Bring a fairy tale to Hogwarts!

Although the students still had many questions to ask, Victor, who had already finished get off work, kicked them all out without saying a word.

The students chattered excitedly at the door for a while, their eyes sparkling with excitement. After all, they were seventh graders and already had a good understanding of the magical world, so they all knew that being able to learn divination was nothing short of a miracle.

Everyone was eager to try it. Tonks even raised his arm and shouted:

"I'm skipping my next class! I'm going to try it now!"

So, by lunchtime, the news had spread throughout the school.

Even Harry heard about it.

At that moment, he was carrying two books as he walked out of Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration classroom.

In today's class, Professor McGonagall transformed the podium into a pig! This naturally captured Harry's full attention and piqued his curiosity. However, to his dismay, even after trying for the entire lesson, he couldn't make the match change even slightly—without incantations, transfiguration felt more like a pure perception of the world.

It was at this moment that he overheard the students in the corridor talking about divination.

"Did you hear? That new professor really can do fortune telling!"

"I've heard many people say this, but why don't I believe it? Is prophecy something everyone can do?"

"No, it's not a prophecy, it's divination. It's said to be similar to tea divination or fire divination, but they have techniques to help you get the correct reading..."

"Really? Then I want to apply too!"

Two Gryffindor upperclassmen walked past Harry, whispering excitedly to each other.

Harry listened to them with a touch of envy.

Professor Victor's lectures sounded popular and very useful!

In fact, he preferred to go to Professor Victor's class rather than other professors he didn't know, because only Victor would talk to him without the expectation that he was being taught about "saviors".

But a voice interrupted his thoughts:

"Gah—!"

Suddenly, an owl flew in through an open window, letting out a sharp, piercing cry. Its hoarse voice sounded like ten crows cawing together, carrying an eerie and terrifying atmosphere.

The piercing sound made the surrounding students cover their ears and make way for it.

The owl flapped its wings, circled once in the air, and landed on Harry's shoulder right in front of everyone.

"Looking for me?" Harry looked at it with some surprise.

The owl actually nodded in a human-like manner.

The next moment, it extended a yellow bird claw, revealing a small note tied to it to Harry's eyes. Harry then untied the note.

It says:

"Harry, I need your help preparing the teaching materials for this afternoon. If you're free, please come to my office at noon. It's behind the fireplace on the top of the North Tower; just knock three times on the fireplace."

Signed: Victor.

This was the first time Harry had ever seen Victor's handwriting. The words were clearly written with a quill pen, with long, thin trailing edges, but the handwriting itself was beautiful, like the kind of handwriting used for contracts in a big city like London.

Harry immediately became happy.

Ron had actually been walking with him the whole time, and when he saw the owl land, he also glanced curiously at Harry's note.

"Victor? The professor who bought you 'From Blood to Curse'?" he asked.

"He didn't buy it; Bokin gave it to me."

"Perhaps," Ron said noncommittally, "but I know Borgin. Borgin has always been one of the Slytherins, much like Professor Snape. There's something wrong with the Slytherins; nine out of ten dark wizards come from there."

Harry retorted, "But Professor Victor isn't that kind of person."

Ron glanced at him with some surprise, thinking that Harry must be blind—Professor Victor looked exactly like a classic dark wizard!

But before he could refute Harry's words, Harry had already dashed to the end of the corridor.

He waved from afar:

"I won't be going to the auditorium. See you this afternoon!"

……

It was almost 12:30 when Harry found Victor's classroom and gently knocked three times on the fireplace. After he finished knocking, the wall behind the fireplace slowly rotated, revealing a small room behind it.

It was a room quite different from the brightly lit divination classroom.

If the necromancers in the story had a laboratory, Harry figured it would probably be something like the one right in front of him.

Before him stood a small, windowless room with only a lantern hanging on one wall, its pale flame casting a dim light on everything.

Victor sat directly beneath the lantern.

But what's even more eye-catching is that where there should have been a window, a huge oil painting, half the size of a wall, has been hung.

The painting is also very dark in tone, and the largest part of the picture is a lake shrouded in mist, with a strange faded texture that makes people feel gloomy at first glance.

In the middle of the lake stands a tall, old, stone-black tower with no doors. Only a single window on the top floor reveals a line of withered gold that stretches straight down to the ground.

It took Harry a moment to realize that the withered yellow gold lines were drawn on a person's hair.

He suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.

Victor's pale face was hidden beneath the brim of his hat. He only slightly raised it after Harry walked in.

"You've come, Harry."

Harry looked away, then nodded and said, "Congratulations, Professor. I heard your first class was a great success. I overheard people talking about it in the hallway just now."

"It's nothing," Victor said nonchalantly. "It's just a little correction of the chaos surrounding divination in the magical world. They didn't even have proper divination before; they taught nothing but tricks."

"trick?"

"Yeah, if divination can't predict the future, then what's the difference between it and Muggle counseling? Oh, wait, I misspoke. At least Muggle counseling can help them manage their emotions..."

The two then chatted casually for a few minutes.

Harry was initially very interested, but as the conversation went on, his attention inevitably drifted back to Victor's classroom furnishings.

As they were talking, the teapot that Harry had seen in the castle tiptoed out from the cabinet next to Victor, using the rim of the pot to bend into two short legs. It tiptoed over the papers on the table and then bent down to fill the teacup on the table with tea.

While speaking, Victor didn't even glance at the teapot, clearly accustomed to it.

But Harry still stared at it for a while.

However, after the water was poured, the teapot seemed to be afraid of the painting on the wall, and with a "whoosh," it darted back under the table. Harry couldn't help but look up again at the strange painting.

The painting on the wall remained there quietly, the long, dark blond hair the only color in the somber scene.

At this moment, Victor noticed Harry's shifting gaze, glanced in that direction, and then changed the subject:

"...Oh, that's lettuce. You're interested in her?"

"What lettuce?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"Rapunzel, that's the name of a friend's daughter. She had exceptionally long hair, and later married a prince, so she's also known as Rapunzel Princess," Victor said. "That's her in the picture."

But Harry's confusion was almost palpable.

Its name is Lettuce? That's so strange!

Why would anyone name their child after a vegetable?

After a moment of silence, Victor suddenly asked, "Would you like to hear the story of Lettuce? It's actually related to what you're going to do."

"Of course, Professor," Harry said decisively.

"The story of lettuce takes place in a remote village. When a villager's wife became pregnant, she couldn't resist the craving for the lettuce grown by her neighbor, so every night she and her husband would go and steal it."

"But the person who grew the lettuce was a witch. She discovered them, was furious, and vowed to make the village couple pay in blood. The villagers knelt down and begged for forgiveness, saying that the wife would die of craving if she didn't eat the lettuce."

"So they made a pact with the witch. The witch said, 'From now on, you can eat as much lettuce as you want, but the child you give birth to will belong to me.'"

Victor's voice was hoarse and deep, reminding Harry of his ghost owl. But because Victor's voice wasn't as shrill, it only gave off a sense of oppression when he was telling stories.

Harry couldn't help but shudder.

"So they agreed?"

"I agree," Victor said calmly.

"After the child was born, the witch did indeed come and take her away, naming her Lettuce. Because the lettuce that the villager's wife ate actually had magic, the child's hair grew longer and longer as she grew up, so the witch locked her in a tall tower."

"Whenever she tried to go up, she would say, 'Lettuce, Lettuce, let your hair down!'"

"But a prince secretly witnessed this scene. He was so amazed by Rapunzel's beauty that he imitated the witch and tricked Rapunzel into letting her hair down. That's how they met and became lovers."

"But the witch discovered this, and in her rage, she blinded the prince by piercing his eyes with thorns and banished Rapunzel to the wilderness. The two wandered the wilderness, where they met again by chance, and Rapunzel's tears healed the prince's blindness..."

"And so they lived happily ever after."

Victor finished speaking calmly, then looked at Harry, his empty eyes showing no change in expression.

"What do you think?"

"Living happily ever after?" Harry couldn't help but repeat, a shiver running down his spine. "I don't think that's very happy... Have your villagers and friends said anything about the witch yet?"

Victor said calmly, "My friend is that witch, not a villager."