I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 456 Goddess Diana

Xia Ti was seething with anger.

Even though he is very, very old.

Time did not soften his fiery and righteous nature, but rather deepened his understanding of justice and evil. His eyes remained sharp, and the flame burning within him burned even more intensely than in his youth.

At this moment, Xia Ti was sitting under a pavilion, observing the bustling crowd in front of her, drinking tea alone in a somber mood.

New Zealand tea originated in England and often features a variety of added ingredients to enhance its flavor and texture. Milk and fruits are the most common additions. While locals might find this to soften the tea's flavor, Chatty, a native of the Ming Dynasty, finds it unpalatable.

He prefers to enjoy spiced teas from Southeast Asia rather than adding milk, as the plant-based brews have a unique flavor.

Xia Ti has been to many places.

Having seen all sorts of local customs and magnificent natural landscapes, New Zealand's charm is still different from other places. Coming here, one always feels an urge to go on an adventure.

Unfortunately, he had many things to deal with, and even this little bit of leisure time he had now was only because of the commotion that had just occurred at the competition venue, which gave him an excuse to come out and relax.

The city market was awash in color and noise, the air thick with strong smells. The arched canvas awnings that stood side by side almost covered the entire street, and the sounds of fierce bargaining, mixed with the pungent smells of spices and roasted meat, could be heard everywhere.

Xia Ti completely ignored the vendors' self-praise; he was just taking a break from his busy schedule, and there weren't many things that interested him.

"This place wasn't like this decades ago."

"This is my second time here, and a lot has changed." An elderly man with a white beard walked out from the crowd.

He went straight to sit on the other side of the Xiati Pavilion.

"You look much more relaxed than I am," Shatty said. "Voldemort is creating terror in Europe, and you still have the nerve to lead your students to the International Wizarding Potions Masters Competition?"

"He won't succeed," the old man said calmly, waving his wand and conjuring two cups of tea. "I know you don't like English tea, try this."

"How is it?" Xia Ti picked up the tea, took a sip, and found that the taste was no different from what he usually drank at school; it was a very pure Longjing tea.

"Do you need help?"

"No—no," the old man said calmly. "Tom is destined to fail; it's only a matter of time. There are many things he doesn't understand about magic. For example, he doesn't know that there is magic more powerful than death."

"Death is a mirror." Xia Ti downed the tea in her cup in one gulp. "Faced with it, the virtuous and the petty react very differently."

"That's true." The old man nodded in agreement.

Just then—horse-drawn carriages came along the road ahead.

Amazingly, these are not real chariots, but bronze artifacts.

The carriage had bronze wheels and was filled with four strong, sturdy horses with green rust.

This is a caravan from the Ming Dynasty.

Besides magical materials, they might also sell silk. Their magical silk is as soft as clouds, as strong as steel, and as beautiful as the most magnificent sunset, making it popular throughout the magical world.

"I apologize for interrupting the two principals, but—I think you should focus your energy elsewhere, rather than sitting here drinking tea!"

A woman who looked to be in her sixties or seventies stepped off a bronze chariot carved with various cloud patterns, dragons, phoenixes, and other designs.

She was dressed in a proper long robe, her face etched with seriousness.

There was even a hint of reproach in Xia Ti's gaze.

"Professor Zhang, I've only been sitting here for less than five minutes," Xia Ti said. "You should at least let me finish a cup of tea."

After he finished speaking, his cup, which had originally contained only tea leaves, suddenly filled with water again, steaming as if it had just been boiled.

Upon witnessing this scene, the old man beside him also sympathized and smiled with a troubled expression. A wonderful friendship was formed between him and Xia Ti.

Especially with a serious-looking Professor Zhang standing next to me.

"Alright, how long do you want to drink?" Professor Zhang was clearly getting impatient.

Although she used many honorifics in her speech, her tone lacked any sense of respect.

There's even a hint of disappointment in it.

"Alright—alright!" Shatty shook her head, then stood up. "Canaries can't stay out of their cages for too long."

"Oh, right—" he suddenly seemed to realize something, "Dumbledore, we need to discuss the matter of promoting exchanges between magic schools in more detail."

Shatty made up this lie from who-knows-where, and then gestured for Dumbledore to come along.

The old principal smiled and stood up, nodding in agreement.

Then the two followed the carriage together, slowly making their way out of the city.

He certainly wouldn't get on the carriage, because then he wouldn't be able to continue slacking off.

This is a wizard town, and it's very prosperous.

As a famous tourist destination, tens of thousands of wizards flock here from all over the world every year, especially now that it is summer vacation.

Hundreds of people were crowded on the wide street leading to the city wall. Withered old men who looked like wise men sat under the porch, leisurely smoking their pipes, the fragrant smoke rising like mist.

Along the way, there were many different costumes and badges from various magic schools and countries.

Ilfamoni, Hogwarts, Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, the Magic Institute, and so on.

There are also some magic schools that are not recognized by the Federation, some of which even Shatty or Dumbledore cannot name. It is clear that these magic schools have not been established for very long—perhaps they were founded just yesterday.

"It's the same every year—" Shatty shook her head. "They want to win the Potions Tournament and then officially establish a magic school—they treat it like a business."

"The Federation needs to be disciplined." Dumbledore looked intently at these magic schools that had only been established yesterday; perhaps they would disband tomorrow because their teams had been eliminated.

"The Federation won't care." Shatty shook her head. "Participating in the competition and registering a magic school both require paying Galleons. They'd love for a hundred magic schools to pop up tomorrow."

He saw a wizard carrying a crudely made satchel, arguing and haggling with the vendors. Then he stuffed a large amount of food, including smoked meat, oatmeal, apples, bread, and cheese, into the satchel.

Magic cannot conjure food.

In the Muggle world, it is a crime for wizards to steal using magic, and if seen by a Muggle, it is an even more serious crime.

There are still wizards in this world struggling to survive, their earnings barely enough to feed a family.

The two ancient wizards sighed in succession.

The world is so cruel.

They want to make changes, but they don't know where to start or how to do it.

Perhaps change will only lead to tragedy in the end.

So they prefer to do nothing.

Just then, a suit of moving armor suddenly sprang out from the street.

Medieval armor was made from a single piece of steel, meticulously polished and shaped; most of the armor in Hogwarts Castle was of this style.

The armored figure squeezed through the crowd, making a clattering sound as it ran along the road.

It was clearly not well maintained.

It ran all the way to the bronze carriage and, to the astonishment of Shatty and Dumbledore, threw itself into Professor Zhang's arms.

assassinate?

The idea first popped into Xia Ti's mind, but she quickly dismissed it.

These carriages traveling on this road represent the dignity of a nation. To challenge them is to be an enemy of the entire magical world of the Ming Dynasty. Even the most evil dark wizard, Voldemort, who is currently causing trouble in Britain, would have to think twice, let alone others.

A moment later, Professor Zhang walked over with the armor.

Only then did the two old wizards realize that there was actually a person inside the armor, and that the armor itself was not moving under magic.

"Sir, please." A woman's voice came from inside the armor.

She raised her hand shakily, revealing a few dirty silver sigils on her ancient medieval chainmail gloves.

"Take me away from here, anywhere is fine with me."

The woman said.

She recognized the carriages—they came from a powerful magical nation, a goal she had set four years ago, but had no chance to escape then; now—it was her only chance.

"Um?"

Even the well-traveled Xia Ti was surprised by the strange request made by the woman.

Unless the other party is being hunted down, they wouldn't make such a request.

After thinking it over, he looked up at Professor Zhang and said, "Have the caravan stop at the city wall."

"Hmm." Professor Zhang nodded.

The bronze caravan drove out of the city gate, an artwork built by ancient Gypsy shamans. Every stone was cut and stacked with unparalleled precision, and not a single drop of mortar was needed during its construction.

The original purpose of this city wall is no longer known. Building a city wall in a magical world is not entirely pointless, but it is truly useless.

Even the descendants who built the city walls, those Gypsy sorcerers, could only recognize that the city was indeed their creation, but had no idea what its purpose was.

Professor Zhang helped the woman lean against a large tree outside the city.

Even though she was wearing armor, she could see that the woman was wrapped in bandages and had scabbed bloodstains on her neck.

She reached out to help the woman remove her armor, but when she actually did so, she realized that the armor was not simple at all.

It is actually a shackle, a magical shackle, tightly binding the woman, its surface intricate like a small snake.

"Hmph—" Xia Ti snorted softly.

With a flick of his sleeve, a powerful spell struck the armor, instantly rendering it useless.

"It has a tracking function," Shatty said. "It seems that whoever imprisoned her will catch up soon."

"Indeed." Dumbledore's face was ashen. He recognized the meaning of the ancient runes on the armor at a glance and knew their purpose, but—why impose such a powerful and heavy shackle on a woman?

The two stepped aside.

Professor Zhang did his best to clean her body.

A woman's body is a map painted with scars. Most of them are knife wounds, covering her entire body.

She even saw some teeth marks, deep enough to draw blood.

The professor helped her apply medicine and changed the bandages, and the woman groaned in pain.

Her body is recovering, but only Merlin knows how much she has suffered here.

The woman, who had been washed clean, leaned against a large tree. She was very beautiful, looking to be in her early twenties, with ear-length silver hair, a pale complexion from not seeing the sun for a long time, and bright sky-blue eyes.

"Thank you—thank you," the woman kept saying thank you, her tone revealing humility.

"Who are you?" Professor Zhang asked, frowning.

The woman hesitated, exhaling slowly. The professor could hardly imagine how much pain her wound was in.

She sat up straight, but accidentally aggravated her wound, and her face contorted instantly. "I don't have anything like a name."

"No name?"

"Don't be afraid, child." The professor tried to soften her tone, but perhaps because she was used to being serious, her voice sounded strange even though she wanted to be gentle. "You won't be hurt here."

"You may not know those two gentlemen. But you should have heard of one of them, Professor Albus Dumbledore."

Dumbledore walked over and heard Professor Zhang talking about himself.

"Dumbledore." The woman frowned, as if searching for something in her memory. "I think I've heard that name before—but it's been so long that I'm no longer sure what it means, madam."

"You don't know Dumbledore?" Professor Zhang was surprised. No wizard could possibly not know Dumbledore.

"Professor Zhang." At this moment, the old principal walked over with a smile. "I suppose I'm not famous enough to be known by everyone."

He half-squatted down beside the woman, and with a gentle turn of his aged yet slender hand, a cup of fragrant coffee appeared in his hand.

"I added three parts sugar," said Dumbledore. "Try it; it will satisfy your hunger."

He had barely finished speaking when the woman practically snatched the coffee from Dumbledore's hand and downed it in one gulp.

The coffee was at the perfect temperature, neither too hot nor too cold, suggesting that the principal had already considered what might happen next.

"Why would anyone want your life?" Dumbledore asked.

The woman struggled to adjust her posture, holding the teacup in both hands, greedily savoring the last remaining warmth.

"Don't worry, no one here can hurt you anymore," Dumbledore said calmly, but his tone was full of confidence.

With him around, it seems there's nothing to worry about; even landslides and tsunamis are just minor issues that can be resolved with a snap of the fingers.

The woman was enveloped in a gentle atmosphere.

This made her feel a little more relaxed.

Then, the three people present saw pain throbbing and churning within her azure eyes.

"They want to eat me," the woman said, her head bowed and her body trembling.

Then, she raised her head again, "I have no name, but—neither does my mother."

Neither her mother nor her mother existed.

But they collectively refer to us as: Goddess Diana.

(End of this chapter)