Bring a fairy tale to Hogwarts!

The dinner passed by in Quirrell's sweat and restlessness. But apart from him, most people ate very happily, and Harry especially wolfed down his food.

He was never hungry at the Dursleys' house, but he was never full either, because Dudley would always eat everything in sight, including his plate of pasta.

The last time I ate my fill was probably in Grandma Baba Yaga's house.

Harry inexplicably recalled that experience, and even when Percy called them to the common room, he didn't stop—because apart from the moving paintings, there was nothing at Hogwarts more magical than that room with the chicken legs.

"Why doesn't the school allow the cutlery to move? That way I wouldn't have to reach for the water myself." Harry couldn't help but ask as they walked.

Percy, who was ahead, said, "Isn't that a bit unnecessary? Generally, things that can move are alchemical items. The current photos were taken using an alchemical magic camera. If we want to achieve the same effect on thousands of plates, the required engineering work would be too extensive."

"But the main reason is that the school's plates have been around for a long time and are part of the campus memories. If they can still be used, there is no need to change them."

It turned out to be the case.

Harry nodded, seemingly understanding.

However, this did not change his opinion that Professor Victor was a very wealthy man. Borgin Burke's fawning attitude towards Professor Victor was as if he were facing an open Gringotts vault.

Thinking this, Harry walked down a corridor.

In the dim light of the enchanted candles, a pale face flashed past at the end of the corridor. Harry immediately realized it was Victor.

He couldn't help but turn around and take another look.

This time, he discovered that a bloodstained ghost was standing opposite Victor. It wore shackles and had a cold expression.

It's Barrow the Bloody Man from Slytherin.

A sound came from over there.

"...I know your secret..."

"...I won't tell...the school..."

"...Do you need me to pass any tests? As long as...I'll do anything..."

It was a hoarse yet ethereal sound, a terrifying sound that seemed to come from underground. Harry couldn't help but shudder when he heard it.

But he immediately realized that it was the voice of the Blood Man, Barrow.

What is it saying—a test?

Harry couldn't help but recall his first visit to Grandma Yaga's hut. They seemed to have mentioned some kind of "test," and said they would help him get revenge if he passed it.

Once he thought about it that way, his curiosity became uncontrollable.

What if he passes the test after listening to the explanation?

Putting aside revenge, perhaps we could teach him some magic? Like divination or something!

"I'm going to the restroom!"

He told Percy something and then hurriedly ran off, leaving Percy calling after him:

"Remember this, the password is 'Dragon Scum'!"

……

He ran back a short distance and crept up to the corner where Barrow and Victor were. Although their Gryffindor ghost Nick had said that Barrow never spoke to anyone, the exception was undeniably right before his eyes.

As Harry moved closer to the corner, the conversation became clearer.

First came Professor Victor's voice:

"...I can't agree to that. You have no more to pay. Fulfilling any wish requires a fair exchange. I'm spending my magic every day to see the future, and it won't be long before it disappears."

Then there's Barrow the Blood:

"I'll pay anything, as long as you let me see that scene, even my soul—"

"No, Mr. Barrow," Victor's voice sounded cold and indifferent. "You have no soul left. All that remains is that one memory you can't forget, washed away by hundreds of years, it's practically no different from chewed-up tea dregs."

"And what about time? I saw it that day; Trelawney clearly swapped time with you and gained real prophetic abilities!"

"You have to help me! I'm willing to give anything for that—and I have all the time in the world! It's all yours!"

Harry, behind the wall, stared wide-eyed in surprise.

Time? Is that something that can be exchanged?

Professor Trelawney...wasn't that the previous professor of divination?

But while he was in shock, the two people around the corner did not stop at all and continued arguing.

"You have nothing, Mr. Barrow. To possess time is to be alive, but you are long dead. All that remains is an empty shell devoid of any other emotions, with no bargaining chips to exchange."

Victor still refused Barrow. But Barrow the Blood Man had clearly been pestering him for a long time and showed no sign of giving up, asking several more questions, but was rejected one by one.

Finally, Victor, thoroughly annoyed, said:

"Okay, okay, stop bothering me."

"How about this? Since you have no price to pay, you can find something that can. Like a genuine, emotional soul, or any living person you can give me, preferably a villain."

"Bad guy? What do you mean?"

"Wizards with intensely evil emotions in their hearts. They are emotionally volatile, neurotic, and possess a great deal of magic, some of which comes at a price. Capture someone to exchange for you, or tell me their secrets, and I can divine how to find liberation for you."

A long silence.

Just when Harry thought Barrow had disappeared, Barrow spoke in the same cold voice as its usual appearance:

"I see."

……

Harry glanced over there and saw that after saying those words, Barrow walked through the wall and left, leaving Victor standing there for a while.

Harry pulled his head back, pondering what had just happened with a puzzled expression.

What exactly is this "predictive trading" that Professor Victor talks about? Why would he want other people's secrets and emotions?

"Could it really be...?"

"What really is it?"

A faint voice came from behind him, and Harry felt his heart skip a beat.

He didn't know when it started, but Victor was standing in front of him, looking down at him.

"I'm so sorry, Professor Victor! I heard him mention something about a test, so I couldn't help but be curious. Grandma Baba Yaga mentioned a test before, and I was wondering if I could pass it, so I—"

Harry was so frightened that he couldn't speak coherently.

But Victor still grasped the key point.

"You want to pass Grandma Yaga's test? Why? To get revenge on your aunt and uncle?"

"No, I... I just wanted to learn some magic... Professor McGonagall took away the book 'From Blood to Curse' that Borgin gave me because I used a bad curse on the car."

"I'm worried that I won't be able to learn other spells after I start school..."

Harry lowered his head in shame.

"I'm sorry, Professor."

"It's alright."

Victor didn't seem to care much about being eavesdropped on, or about his spellbook being confiscated. He just thought about it for a moment and then looked Harry up and down.

"It's not impossible. Your talent is quite unique; you could come and do some chores for me. Come help me once a week, and I'll teach you a little magic. How about that?"

"No problem, Professor! But what kind of magic? Prophecy?"

"A little magic that you can't find anywhere else."