A certain Hogwarts professor of runes

Chapter 728 Extra Chapter: Five Years Later

(Romance storyline, please subscribe with caution)

Five years have passed in the blink of an eye, and it's summer again.

"Time flies," Ms. Burns said with a smile from the side of the sofa. Opposite her was Hermione, who had just returned from abroad after completing her two-year term as an observer for the International Pan-Magical Alliance. She was dressed in a formal suit, her hair pulled back, exuding a capable and efficient air.

"How was your trip around the world?" Ms. Burns asked, handing her a cup of tea.

"Great," Hermione grinned, taking a small sip of her piping hot tea and letting out a satisfied groan. Then she sighed and said, "I think I've used up all my travel credits for my lifetime. Unless there's a really rare opportunity, I'm prepared to stay in the country forever."

"That's good news," Ms. Burns said with a relieved tone. "You can come back and continue being my secretary. I was in a lot of turmoil while you were gone, with so many things to do."

Hermione glared at her angrily.

"Am I only fit to be a secretary?"

Ms. Burns smiled.

"Oh, you still want to be Minister for Magic? That's quite an ambition, young lady. It might offer me some comfort in the current situation..." Seeing Hermione's puzzled expression, she explained, "Scrimgeour is getting old and will likely retire even earlier than me. The same goes for Sinkennis and old Crouch, who's an advisor—he adopted a distant nephew last year and has barely appeared in the ministry since. Other senior officials are only good at one thing, like Ludo Bagman, Phoebus Penrose, Arthur Weasley..."

"...The requirements for ministers are getting higher and higher now. I have to study every day and try to deal with all kinds of people." She said with some annoyance, "That guy stays at school and doesn't come out. I've written to him several times and he's just brushed me off."

"You mean the professor?" Hermione asked, perking up her ears.

“It’s him,” Ms. Burns said bitterly, then gently rubbed her forehead, her tone softening. “Actually, I can understand Felix’s actions. He seems to be intentionally separating himself from the public, like Dumbledore after 1945… As the most important deterrent force in the world, his personal face will become blurred. The Swordholder, that’s what people call him.”

Hermione nodded slowly, and reflecting on her experiences over the past two years, she gained a deeper understanding of Burns' words.

Wherever she went, people were eager to pry into the professor's private life, and when she picked and chose to describe unimportant details, they would show utter astonishment and surprise, as if a myth had come to life. One person's answer particularly impressed Hermione:

"Are you serious? Mr. Hyp is sitting down to have dinner with you? Won't you feel pressured...? And he drinks wine sometimes? And he's a good dancer? Oh dear, I always thought he was a, a—" The person gestured with their finger in the air for a moment, then trailed off. The person said apologetically, "I'm sorry, I've only seen him on TV and in the newspapers. I even have a copy of the magical newspaper—it's the one about the bonfire night on the floating island, which has now become a small city..."

But Hermione knew that in that person's—or many people's—mind, the name Felix Heap no longer represented a specific person, but rather something more like an abstract symbol, or a law, a rule, and this impression would become increasingly entrenched over time.

Five years ago, after the grand Christmas bonfire party on the floating island ended, life returned to normal. Since then, the magical and non-magical worlds have smoothly connected and integrated, experiencing occasional setbacks but no major conflicts. Everything was peaceful. Six months later, their graduating class left school. Harry and Ron chose to travel, while she plunged into the demanding work of the Ministry of Magic.

There are too many things that need to be clarified.

Politics, economics, culture, law, education, art… yes, art too. The first thing Miss Granger did upon joining the company was to host an international art troupe visiting Britain—the exhibition was inspired by the super magic left behind by Professor Hyp in New York Harbor. Although Hermione had already seen related pictures in the newspapers, she had to admit that the artists had chosen a rather ingenious angle. She lingered for a long time in front of a six-meter-long panoramic photo wall titled "The Art of God," the inscription explaining that this painting, pieced together from thousands of photographs, encompassed the grand panorama of the city while cleverly piecing together hundreds of details.

Furthermore, the painter himself stated: "If there truly is a God, he appeared on December 24, 1997, and gently turned the wheel of human destiny in a different direction."

But Hermione knew that even "gods" had their own troubles. For example, grading student exams, finalizing the list of the first scientists to set foot on the floating islands, and choosing baby shower gifts for their Muggle friends—

Hermione took a sip of tea, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, as she recalled the incident.

Let her think about what the professor said at the time.

"I'm not very good at this. I've asked Sirius, Remus, and even Harry, but they have no idea what kind of gift they would like for their first child, let alone Severus... So please help me, Miss Granger."

This happened shortly after the New Year, and the people being asked were all very busy. None of them planned to get married anytime soon, especially Harry, who probably looked completely bewildered when asked—he and Ginny were getting married at the end of the year (2003).

"How is little Rosalie?" Hermione asked.

"Very well," Mrs. Burns snorted. "Sirius often takes her to visit Harry and Lupin. Every day before I leave work, I have to use my telepathic device to make sure my husband and daughter are there. To be honest, I'm not used to house-elves calling me 'Honorable Mistress,' and neither is Sirius, but he seems to find it very amusing..."

Hermione smiled slightly. Rosalie is the female name of Sirius's younger brother Regulus. She was born three years ago, around the same time as Lupin and Tonks' first child. Together with Bill and Fleur's child, who are a year older than them, the three little ones are just the right playmates.

Hermione felt relaxed as she left the office.

Ms. Burns gave her a month-long vacation. "Many of the people you know and the places you're familiar with have changed a lot. Go around and see what's going on, then come back to work refreshed. The position of Assistant Director of the Office of the Minister is waiting for you."

She strolled around the Auror offices, where staff along the way expressed surprise and welcome at her return.

The space is divided into many small cubicles. The outside of each cubicle is labeled with the Auror's name and the nature and content of their work. The inside walls are covered with wanted criminals' portraits, posters, family photos, and recent news clippings that meet the needs of their work and personal aesthetics. It looks dazzling and diverse.

Hermione quickly found Harry, Ron, and Neville's seats by memory, but all three chairs were empty.

"Potter and Weasley have been rotated to the floating islands to maintain order, and Longbottom is in charge of investigating a potion-making ingredient smuggling case," the Auror beside her said. He had a full beard and looked like a shrunken Hagrid. "You know, as the list of potions suitable for ordinary people gets longer and longer, smuggling in that area is becoming more and more frequent..."

Hermione nodded slightly. She was well aware of the smuggling issue that the Auror had mentioned. It had become a common headache for the Ministries of Magic in various countries, but the place where the black market was most rampant was definitely the Americas—one of the aftereffects of the "Exercise" incident years ago.

Then there's Futureworld Corporation, whose headquarters moved to the floating island long ago, even before the Federation's headquarters relocated—it's now the headquarters of the International Pan-Magic Alliance. The two merged about six months ago with Arkinbard's retirement and Professor Hyp's appointment. Over the years, the island's population has gradually increased, and the various national ministries of magic regularly send Aurors to maintain order on the island.

"Where's Tonks? Oh, she should be on the island too, with Lupin. And Collins?"

"Tonks submitted a report to the department six months ago requesting to be stationed permanently on the floating island, since her family is there. As for Ms. Foley," the bearded Auror gave a knowing smile, and said seriously, "Let me describe what happened to you like this: Weasley wasn't supposed to participate in the routine patrols, but at the last gathering, he blurted out that Collins had pursued him..."

"Uh." Hermione sighed, she could totally imagine what happened next—Ron ran away in a panic, and Collins chased after him with a knife.

Her gaze swept past Harry's spot (where there was a photo of him and Ginny riding broomsticks, Ginny wearing a Holy Head Hobbit uniform). On Ron's cubicle were two separate photos, and the documents on the table were scattered, seemingly hastily pushed into a corner to make room for a chessboard in the center. It was a wizarding chess set, the pieces bouncing about playfully; were it not for the glass dome-like enclosure, they would likely have escaped and scattered everywhere. A sign on the outside of the glass read: Dangerous item, do not touch.

A glint of silver light flashed in Hermione's pupils, revealing the dense array of magical symbols on the chess pieces.

"He hadn't finished it before I left," she said with emotion.

"What? Oh!" the bearded Auror said with great interest, "The famous 'Knight' Weasley, and the 'Stag' who shares the same lineage as the ouroboros guardian spirit that blots out the sky over the floating islands, Longbottom who can enter dreams, Malfoy who established the first wizarding hospital—the Muggle United Hospital, Lovegood who has discovered a variety of magical creatures... and of course, you, Ms. Granger, these past few years have truly been full of talented people."

He then lowered his voice and said, "You've come back at just the right time. I've heard some rumors: Ms. Burns is preparing to step down as minister, and the next few years may be the time for her to look for a new minister..."

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"It's true!" the bearded Auror exclaimed quickly. "I heard that Potter will soon be promoted to Head of the Auror Office, Weasley will be transferred to the Muggle Affairs Department, and Longbottom will be in charge of smuggling cases, but I heard he has other plans and has been frequently seen at Hogsmeade's Three Broomsticks lately..."

"Thank you, Tuttle," Hermione said. "I think it's too early to think about these things. Kingsley is an excellent wizard."

"Oh, Kingsley..." the bearded wizard said somewhat absentmindedly, "You're right, he's perfect in every way."

Emerging from the Ministry of Magic, Hermione strolled through the streets of London. Magic seemed to have subtly taken root in the city, as if it had always been that way. She pushed open the door to a bookstore, and on a separate shelf, Dumbledore's benevolent face gazed upon her—it was a biography co-authored by Harry and Ephias Doge, its cover adorned with purple ribbons proclaiming "Three-time Bestseller."

But today, another magic book is placed in the center. Hermione stares at the name on it with a strange expression: Harry Potter. The huge poster next to it says it all: Mafalda Prowitt's young face is printed on it, smiling brightly.

"An exclusive look at the real magical school life, revealing a corner of the legendary veil from the perspective of key figures. Based on three years of firsthand observation by the author (covering fifth to seventh grade), and further supplemented by extensive interviews with those involved and those who experienced it firsthand, the truth is reconstructed... The first film of the same name will be released on June 25th."

Hermione was dumbfounded.

Memories flooded her mind. Good heavens, Mafalda actually wrote Harry into the book! He must be furious… I wonder what kind of character I am in the story? She glanced at the calendar beside her; today was the 25th.

She picked up Dumbledore's biography and Harry Potter (she had read the former many times), and as her fingers moved, she hesitated before picking up a book attributed to Sybil Trelawney, *The Lion and the Firebird*. She wasn't interested in Trelawney's books, nor was she surprised that the book by this eccentric fortune teller could be displayed openly in a Muggle bookstore—perhaps she did occasionally display a genuine talent for prophecy, Hermione thought.

What really interested her was the recommendation on the book cover:

"Mars has historically been associated with war and conflict. When it is closer to us, those who are gifted and naturally sensitive are the first to be affected—Albus Dumbledore, Gellert Grindelwald, Tom Riddle (Voldemort), Felix Heap, and even the author himself—their birth dates all confirm this pattern. Now that this day has arrived again, what changes will it bring?"

"Mars." Hermione chewed on the word, then after a moment she spat, "Old liar."

But she still took the books to the counter to pay, casually stuffing the three books into her beaded bag. The clerk asked with interest, "A wizard?" "Yes." "Can you do me a favor?" the clerk asked again, "I'll give you a 20% discount."

Hermione stared at her in surprise.

"Well, it's like this," the shop assistant said with a smile, "My daughter, Lily, really loves 'The Adventures of Mick the Wizard of Oz.' Could you cast a spell on her, something she can immediately recognize?"

Hermione hesitated for a moment, then asked, "What does she like?"

"Anything is fine, ma'am," the shop assistant said immediately. "Things little girls like, bows, dolls, kittens..."

Hermione bit her lip, then reached out her hand. Gradually, a pair of beautiful butterflies appeared in the air, circled once, and landed on the shop assistant's hand.

"When they're still, they look like bows, and they can also play with your daughter."

"Thank you so much."

"It's nothing, um, do you know the nearest movie theater?"

"Of course! There's one right on the corner."

Hermione thanked the clerk, left the bookstore, and followed the directions to the movie theater across the street. She was somewhat dumbfounded—the winding line stretched from the theater entrance all the way to the back door, and everyone seemed to be there for the first wizarding movie. She looked around, then slipped into an alley when no one was looking, and the next second, she was several kilometers away.

I searched three movie theaters before finally finding one with few people.

There was only one person ahead of her in line. That person was wearing a long trench coat, carrying a small box in one hand, with short black hair, and holding the day's newspaper in the other.

"A ticket to the movie 'Harry Potter'," the man paused, seemingly finding it amusing, "I've been looking forward to this for years."

The ticket seller clearly didn't take the "many years" statement seriously, and casually asked, "Some inside information, huh?"

I guess so.

Hermione's eyes widened, and her heart suddenly raced. She moved closer to the ticket window, but the person had already taken their ticket and left.

She quickly bought the ticket, glancing around anxiously as she did so. Then she crouched down and sat furtively opposite the man, who was leaning back in his armchair, engrossed in reading a newspaper. Hermione caught glimpses of words like "distance between Earth and Fire," "moon landing plan," and "new breakthrough in magical science" on the other side of the newspaper.

"Uh, cough cough." She cleared her throat.

After a few seconds, there was no response from the other side.

She cleared her throat again, this time making some other noises, and then she heard a "chirp?" sound. "Not finished reading? Your reading speed needs improvement," the man said. Hermione could perfectly imagine the expression on his face as he spoke, and the furry, flat-mouthed little creature peeking out from a silver pocket watch on his chest.

She made the glasses on the table clink and clang, almost to the point of noise.

As expected, Hermione noticed—her heart leaped with joy as she pondered what to say first. A slender, fair hand emerged from behind the newspaper, gently tapped the table, and then withdrew.

Whispering spell, Hermione gritted her teeth inwardly. Professor, you've already broken the law!

Wizards should avoid casting spells in public unless they are given permission—which is your own decision.

A flash of silver light crossed Hermione's eyes. Almost simultaneously, an irresistible ripple of magic spread out from another perspective, fading the somewhat dim environment of the movie theater, and Hermione's breath caught in her throat.

"Granger—oh, Hermione?"

Hermione snapped out of her daze and saw Felix and Varen peering at her over the newspaper, Felix with a smile on his lips.

"What a coincidence, you're here to watch a movie too."

A pleasant atmosphere fermented and brewed in the air, exuding an aroma like fine wine. Hermione's heart pounded even faster, and she seemed to forget how to breathe—even during the two years she had served as an observer for the International Pan-Magical Alliance, the two had maintained contact, exchanging every two or three months or so, and occasionally meeting on the floating islands, but Hermione felt as if a lifetime had passed. If she counted carefully, they had known each other for a long time, starting from their second year listening to the mysteries of ancient runes in the Ancient Runes office—no, it should be even earlier—when she was a fourth-year student, and he was a fourth-year student, and they had their first correspondence across nine years…

Hermione smoothed her hair and said, "Long time no see, Felix."

……

Outside the movie theater, the street was bustling with people. Felix and Hermione followed the crowd out. It was dusk, and it seemed as if it had just rained; even the air was damp, and the puddles on the ground reflected the soft glow of the setting sun.

The two stood at the entrance of the movie theater for a long time without saying a word. Moviegoers passed by, discussing the plot animatedly as they went.

"That was absolutely fantastic!"

"But why isn't Felix Heap here?"

"He's going to join the company the following year. Didn't you see the post-credits scene in the movie? That person who applied for the job should be him—" the girl suggested. "I heard that many actors volunteered, even though the production team said their roles were relatively small."

"Oh dear, I'd much rather see his independent films; he's a legendary figure!"

"What do you think about casting Bradley Fitzgerald as Felix Heap?"

"No!" the girl said vehemently, "His chin is too round, he looks like a blacksmith..."

The two chatted and laughed as they left.

Hermione smiled.

"Honestly, I'd also like to see your independent film."

“You know I don’t like it,” Felix shook his head slightly, his light blue eyes fixed on her as he said, “I’ve rarely made public appearances in recent years, mostly staying at the school. It’s partly due to my personality, but there’s also a more practical reason: I’m too conspicuous. Unless I plan to turn the wizarding world into my own personal fiefdom, it’s best to keep a low profile.”

Sharpness? Hermione recalled her conversation with Madam Burns earlier that day. "The Sword of Damocles? The wielder?"

Felix said with a slight embarrassment, "People seem to have accepted this idea very easily, and have even taken it upon themselves to put me in the position of the second swordsman... However, compared to other more exaggerated titles, I think it's not bad, and it implies the public's expectations: neither the Sword of Damocles nor the person holding the sword will be shown to others easily, but only for deterrence purposes."

"—But no one can ignore his presence." Hermione smiled brightly, but subtly set a verbal trap in her mind. "Oh, right, I almost forgot to ask, is Professor McGonagall alright?"

“Minerva is very good, and she occasionally gives open classes to students; however, she is usually quite busy—” Felix nodded as he spoke. Hermione glanced over quickly, her eyes filled with inquiry, and pressed on, “It surprises me, I remember she was very busy when Headmaster Dumbledore was here.”

Felix said somewhat awkwardly, "Uh, Miss Granger—"

Call me Hermione.

“Well, Hermione,” Felix paused, finding an excuse for his laziness, which was also true. “It is rather strange. Perhaps one explanation is that Minerva is too conscientious, noticing even the slightest hint of a problem, while Dumbledore and I, well, we prefer to observe from the sidelines and let the problem surface more thoroughly, like…”

“Like a couple arguing about housework,” Hermione continued, “it’s not necessarily that one is lazier or less attentive than the other, but rather that they have different standards for judging ‘cleanliness’ and haven’t reached a consensus.” She then stared intently at him.

Felix paused, "This isn't the metaphor I was thinking of, but it's very insightful."

"You just don't know enough about this," Hermione blurted out. Her face flushed, like the sunset. She lowered her head, revealing only her bright red forehead, and said in a barely audible voice, "I only found out by observing Mom and Dad. I think..."

Felix stared at her intently, as if she were an unsolvable magical puzzle.

"I'm going on a trip," he said suddenly.

"What?"

“Travel.” Felix gestured with his eyes to his suitcase and newspaper. “Mars is closest to Earth right now, and I’m going to go take a look.” Then he asked in a soft tone, “I remember you said—well, when I had just come back from the moon—that if you had the chance again, you would like to go to space too…” He suddenly felt his mouth go dry and his heart race.

He could control a spell that enveloped the entire city, yet he was helpless in the face of his current predicament and had no way of knowing the answer beforehand. Suddenly, an unrelated thought popped into his mind: he absolutely had to master time magic.

He feigned composure and said:

"...Of course, so much time has passed, you may have forgotten. Many people have had impulsive, passionate ideas when they were young, which eventually fade away... But if your thoughts haven't changed, and you're still willing..."

"I do!" Hermione exclaimed, looking up.

"...I'd like to invite you to join me."

Silence. Then, a powerful longing welled up within him, and Felix took a large step forward, embracing Hermione in the afterglow of the setting sun and its brilliant glow, their shadows pressed close together. The world seemed to fall silent; a light rain began to fall, blurring the neon lights. For a long time, they gazed at each other, then laughed together.

Passersby offered their blessings. They seemed no different from other couples, except that their topic of conversation was somewhat shocking—

How far away is Mars from us?

"About 60 million kilometers."

"It sounds so far away, it's just the two of us—"

"Chirp!"

"—Oh, and Valencia too."

"Actually, it's not too bad, it's only a two-day journey..."

(End of this chapter)