I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 100 A Kind Smile

From the time when Irving was away, carrying out his cause of justice.

On the other side, the eighth floor.

The brass door, shaped like a griffin, slowly opened.

The first thing that catches the eye is a pot of blooming roses on the table.

With the blessing of magic, the delicate rosebuds dripped with water droplets.

It was like a silent cry.

The Sorting Hat and the Gryffindor Treasure were placed in a cabinet next to the Pensieve.

Professor Dumbledore was hunched over his desk, with Tom's diary in one hand and two letters in the other.

The material of the letters alone tells you that they were not sent by the same person.

One was parchment commonly found in colleges, and the other was a type of Muggle paper.

"Hmm—your old flame has sent you another letter?" At this moment, a thin wizard with straight hair, wearing a black robe and a cold expression walked into the principal's office.

His voice inexplicably carried a hint of hatred.

I don't know if she was angered by someone's infidelity.

"You've come, Severus!" Dumbledore casually pushed everything he was carrying aside, including several Muggle fantasy novels such as "The Lord of the Rings," "The Hobbit," and "The Silmarillion," which he piled in a corner of his desk.

He then picked up a glass of pear juice from his desk, moistened his throat, and continued, "How's the basilisk's corpse coming along?"

"The inventory is complete; these are precious magical materials." The genius potion master's expression improved when he mentioned the basilisk.

He agreed to play this pointless game with Dumbledore because he entrusted the basilisk to him.

"That's good."

"Would you like some candy?" Dumbledore asked with a smile, sitting in a chair covered with a soft purple cushion embroidered with stars.

"Dumbledore!"

"Alright, Severus! Relax." The old headmaster was still smiling. You see, just now, Owen sent a letter claiming with certainty how Snape refused to provide additional magical instruction to the young wizards of other houses.

How did they manage to create cliques within Slytherin?

They even attempted to overthrow him and become the principal themselves, etc.

In short, in all his years of teaching, Dumbledore had never seen such a meticulously crafted hodgepodge of lies, fabrications, ambiguities, and rumors.

From a purely literary standpoint, his letter is enough to secure his place in Hogwarts school history.

Just as the headmaster and Professor Snape were chatting idly, there was another knock on the door of the headmaster's office.

Then the deans of the other four academies also arrived.

Professor McGonagall spoke first: "I'm sorry I questioned you before, Albus."

"This idea is absolutely brilliant! Please continue."

"That's right, you didn't see the thirst for knowledge in those young wizards' eyes! Oh, Merlin's beard, these have been the happiest two weeks of my teaching career in all these years," said Professor Flitwick, the headmaster of Ravenclaw, beaming with joy.

"I have seen him, Philius."

Dumbledore raised his hand in a gesture, then his expression turned strange.

He pulled out a report that Irving had sent him earlier from the stack of stories for entertainment.

"Take a look at this first."

He smiled without saying a word and handed the letter to Professor Flitwick.

"this--"

Upon receiving the letter and glancing at it, Professor Flitwick's face instantly turned ashen.

"Slander! Fabrication! This is an insult to Ravenclaw!"

He angrily handed the letter to Professor Sprout beside him, "Look at these lies he's made!"

Headmaster Hufflepuff, who had remained silent since entering, looked embarrassed.

When she learned that Dumbledore's plan was mainly to be carried out by her own little dark wizard, she secretly thought to herself that something was wrong!

He was a troublemaker to begin with, and now he has the principal's tacit approval!

Wouldn't that kid cause an uproar?

Therefore, she remained silent during each meeting of the dean to discuss how the upcoming drama should proceed.

But this time.

Lockhart, that idiot, is trying to escape to America and spread rumors about Hogwarts to tarnish the school's reputation. But you don't need to worry, because he's currently lying in a corner of the third-floor corridor, sincerely repenting!

Also, I suddenly had a great idea. Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets shouldn't be revealed to young wizards, but Ravenclaw's can. There's also a magic house in the castle!

I hope Ms. Rowena won't be angry if I impersonate her!

Or perhaps—that house was indeed built by her?

Hehe—from now on I'm Ravenclaw's heir!

—A related plan is enclosed with this letter.

Professor Sprout's expression shifted slightly, then he cleared his throat and asked, "Headmaster Dumbledore, what do you think of this plan?"

"Although—" He glanced at Professor Flitwick, then reassured her, "I don't think that lady would bother with a twelve-year-old wizard from fifteen hundred years in the future."

"From the perspective of the plan alone, it is indeed very reasonable."

"I basically agree with this plan."

"Albus! You—" Professor Flitwick was about to retort, but was interrupted by a glass of sherry juice soda with ice and whelk that Professor Dumbledore handed him.

The professor, with a stern face, took a small sip with displeasure.

Then, in a low voice, he said, "After this is all over, we must clarify this matter!"

"Of course—" Dumbledore replied with a smile.

"Next, we need to escalate the intensity of this incident," he continued.

"However, the timeframe has to be set after Christmas."

"At least let the young wizards have a peaceful holiday!" the old headmaster said kindly.

Then, all the other professors, except Snape, showed kind smiles.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

early morning.

Early in the morning, gasps of surprise rang out from the auditorium entrance.

Hermione walked down the stairs, looking dazed. She had stayed up too late studying spells last night, not falling asleep until after 1 a.m. Now she felt lightheaded, her eyes sore and swollen she could barely keep them open.

"What are you looking at?"

The hall was now packed with young wizards, all crowding around the bulletin board in the entrance hall, looking at a newly posted notice.

"Yes, the Duel Club." Harry pointed to the notice and said, "The Duel Club will reopen in the Great Hall at 2 p.m. today."

"Duel Club?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"The Duel Club was very popular at Hogwarts in the past," Hermione, the walking encyclopedia, began to explain slowly. "It has a long history, at least several hundred years."

"However, the school canceled the dueling club after a young wizard was injured during a duel."

"Professor Flitwick is going to restart the Duel Club?" Hermione, the little witch, squeezed through the crowd and finally saw the full picture of the announcement.

"Is that guy participating?" she suddenly asked after glancing at the announcement.

(End of this chapter)