Hogwarts: My name is the Unforgivable Curse...

Chapter 132 Hogwarts is more than just a castle

"I know you're all feeling a bit down... but kids, I still suggest you cheer up and keep going in class."

Snape's speech took place three days before the Christmas holidays—meaning that after hearing the devastating news, students would have to attend two more days of classes before the unprecedentedly dreaded Christmas break.

Fear spread with unprecedented speed. Hogwarts was now like a monster to its students, especially Muggle-born ones. The once bustling corridors were now filled with heavy footsteps. No one wanted to linger in the corridors for even a second, fearing they might be attacked by the castle's will—at least so far, there hadn't been any cases of people being petrified in classrooms or common rooms.

At first, a few Slytherin students were loudly mocking the Muggle students in the corridor, but after they were cornered in the Slytherin common room for half a day by a group of students with red eyes, no one dared to provoke them at this critical juncture.

"No matter what the future holds, at least the knowledge you've gained won't disappear from your minds. You are ultimately part of the magical society, and what will ultimately help you achieve happiness will only be the wands in your hands and the knowledge in your minds, not so-called certificates and academic qualifications..."

In the Transfiguration classroom, Professor McGonagall reluctantly stopped writing and drawing on the blackboard, looking at the students below who were all dejected or restless, and tried to persuade them.

"But professor, what's the use of that?"

Gryffindor students are known for their willingness to question professors in class, even their own headmaster: "We're about to be kicked out, aren't we? We won't be able to study, or even cast spells at home... What use is all this knowledge we have now?"

Professor McGonagall glanced at the student—a Muggle-born Gryffindor boy who was biting his lower lip hard, his face contorted with tension, trying to hide the tremor in his voice and the redness in his eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

She walked over, leaned down, and raised her voice in feigned surprise: "Are you really going to give up like this?"

"Just because something vague and intangible might be targeting you, you're going to give up knowledge, friends, magic, and Quidditch, and obediently go home? Oh, Merlin, if you were always this obedient, our hourglass of scores would probably overflow..."

A few bursts of laughter finally broke the oppressive atmosphere in the classroom.

"We professors have no intention of giving up yet!"

Professor McGonagall stepped back to the podium, her voice calm yet firm: "Petrification only happens in the corridors, right? Then let's move the class to the common room! Isn't our common room in the tower? Then give everyone a flying broomstick, and I'll grant you special permission to fly out of the windows every day!"

"If the people in the lounge and dormitories can also be petrified, then let's go outside! And if that so-called will of theirs still won't give up, then let's just abandon this castle and find somewhere else to have class!"

"A building is the least important component of a school, no matter how ancient or mysterious it may be. The real Hogwarts is not a castle, but you, us professors, the elves bustling in the kitchen, and the traditions and spirit passed down for millennia. And all these things have one thing in common: none of them should be governed by a vague and ethereal will!"

"I will not give up on any of you unless you are willing to give up on yourselves."

……

"look."

Inside the greenhouse, Professor Sprout, dressed in a patched robe, showed his students a large, lush green nursery behind him: "These are mandrake seedlings. We'll be learning about them soon, so a little early lesson is fine—can anyone tell me what the characteristics of mandrake are?"

"The root of the mandrake is a powerful restorative agent that can effectively remove polymorphism as well as other spells and curses."

A student raised their hand and answered in a low voice.

"very good."

Professor Sprout gave an encouraging smile: "Mandragora is an important component of most antidotes. But it's also dangerous. Can anyone tell me why?"

"Hearing the cry of the mandrake will kill you."

"Absolutely correct!"

Professor Sprout gave a thumbs up, then picked up a potted plant and held it up so the students could clearly see what the mandrake seedling looked like: "Look, it's just an ordinary herb, which costs about three sis in the market... yet it can both dispel curses and easily take the lives of reckless people."

"Compared to it, that thing that petrified the students is utterly insignificant: in terms of lethality, the cry of the mandrake is far more powerful than that curse, and the petrification curse itself can be easily eliminated by a potion made from mandrake..."

"Huh?"

These words stunned the students below—according to Professor Sprout, that terrifying castle will seemed to be inferior to even a single herb, Sansico?

"The world of magic is like this: wondrous, dangerous, yet so captivating. There are many things more magical and deadly than mandrake..."

Professor Sprout's gentle voice deepened: "It was in such an environment, facing countless dangerous plants and magical creatures, that wizards summarized magic in nature, constantly exploring and learning, using their minds and wands to carve out their own sanctuary, gradually leading to the glorious civilization we have today. Countless bizarre and deadly things were ultimately conquered by magic and wands."

"And now, someone is telling you that a petrifying curse in a castle can deprive all Muggle-born young wizards in Britain of their ability to learn, grow, and progress. Do you believe it?"

She smiled as she watched the students' dim eyes gradually regain their light: "It's not worthy."

……

"See, it's that simple to give a life to an inanimate object."

A suit of armor, now brought to life, was moving among the Ravenclaw students. Its visor opened and closed like a mouth, putting on a hilarious stand-up comedy show that made even the most disheartened students burst into laughter.

Professor Flitwick pointed his wand, causing the armor to perform various movements: "See, like this, as the one who bestows that will, I have absolute control over it. And if I... if I intend to stop it..."

He elegantly waved his wand, and the armor instantly stopped moving, turning back into an inanimate object: "That easy."

"And that so-called castle will is essentially just that—a mind created by wizards."

"It should only serve the wizards among them, and has no right to deprive anyone of the right to learn, much less to harm others."

"If it does that, it means there's a malfunction..."

"It should be shut down and repaired."

……

Professor Snape was sitting in the Dean's office, with no students around him who needed his comfort or encouragement.

Anyway, anyone who gets into Slytherin is at least a half-blood, so there's no need to worry about being attacked by the Basilisk...

Boom boom boom!

"Professor Snape, may I come in? I have something very important to tell you!"

(End of this chapter)