A certain Hogwarts professor of runes.

Professor Marchban and old Vera also left the school on the same day. Professor Marchban carried a report provided by Felix, and according to her, getting the Ministry of Magic to recognize a new profession was not an easy task. "They'll bring up a lot of irrelevant issues, like the salary for the new department," she complained loudly. "They always get bogged down in trivial matters, but I'll do my best to make it happen!"

“You’re coming over the Easter holiday?” She looked at Felix and received the reply, “April 17th. The day after Easter? I’ll remember and schedule the meeting around that time.”

“What do I need to prepare?” Felix asked.

“Shut them up with undeniable facts!” Professor Marchban shook his hand firmly.

Before leaving, old Vera invited him to visit the Ancient Rune Society during the summer vacation, and Felix agreed. However, he did not join the society, as he needed to see "more positive" changes, or unless he intended to run for the title of president of the Ancient Rune Society.

April has arrived.

The plants in the school quietly turned green, and the climate became more pleasant. In addition to the changes in the weather, professors of different subjects began to review, and after a large amount of homework was assigned, the students complained and even developed a strange competitive atmosphere.

“I studied until midnight last night,” a fifth-grader said in the common room. “To finish that damn history of magic paper!”

“But he’ll be free in three months, won’t he?” Ron said sadly, comparing the two answers. He was also worried about his thesis on the history of magic. “First fairies, then vampires, and now centaurs… What’s wrong with Professor Binns? Is the ghost cake in Room Seven not to his liking?”

“These are all essential pieces of knowledge,” Hermione said, flipping through today’s newspaper.

“I know, but I don’t care at all what the centaur chieftain said when he refused to be called ‘human,’ or what the centaur liaison office even means. My dad says it’s never really been used, not a single centaur has ever actually stepped inside!” Ron grumbled on, his resentment palpable, his voice growing louder. “It’s become an open joke. If you don’t like someone, pray they get sent to the centaur liaison office, because they’ll be fired soon enough—Harry, what’s that word?”

Harry, who was doing his divination homework, leaned over, stared at his work, and after a while said uncertainly, "A girl?"

“It’s a banshee,” Hermione said calmly from the side, holding a large book. “Centipedes and banshees have a history of conflict with vampires, which is one of the reasons why they refuse to share the title of ‘human.’”

Ron didn't listen at all. He imitated Harry's handwriting, scribbled a pattern, measured its length, and ended with a short poem, "All done!" he said happily.

Hermione glanced at it and said sarcastically, "Whose poem is this?"

“I wrote it myself.” Ron decisively closed the paper.

“You’re something else, breaking a long sentence into seven or eight paragraphs,” Hermione said. Ron grinned and stuffed the paper into his bag. “Actually, it’s eight paragraphs… Any news? You’ve been reading this for ages.”

“There’s been a lot more and more discussion about ancient runes,” Hermione said. “It’s like a hurricane, and rune cards are selling like hotcakes… A lot of people are waiting for the professor to release a new book, and they clearly know who the source of this change is.”

“We benefited from this too, didn’t we?” Ron said with a smile. He had been in a very good mood lately. Last week, employees from 'Future World' came and gave them a bonus of 80 Galleons. According to Neville, he was even smiling in his dreams.

Hermione ignored him, engrossed in reading her newspaper. "I feel like someone's missing. It's really strange that she hasn't offered her opinion on this important matter..."

Who are you talking about?

“Rita Skeeter,” Hermione said.

"Isn't this perfect? ​​That jerk disappeared; maybe someone knocked him out of the way," Ron guessed.

“She’s writing a biography of Regulus,” Harry said, looking up. “Or maybe she’s just keeping quiet.”

“Oh…” Hermione said, drawing out the last syllable, “That makes sense.”

"what happened?"

“You have no idea what’s in her new book. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if she were kidnapped by Varian one day, but are you sure she’d still have the guts to do it?” she asked Harry.

“I don’t know why,” Harry shrugged. “But Sirius said she was very serious about it, showing him the manuscript every now and then, and otherwise you never saw her at all…”

"How is Sirius doing at work? Is he settling in?" Hermione couldn't help but ask. "I can't believe he's been able to stay at a school for so long."

“He adapted quite well there,” Harry said. “He said he figured out a way to deal with students.”

"He wouldn't cast a Confusion Charm on a student, would he?" Ron asked. Harry didn't answer, though he couldn't rule out the possibility.

4 month 7 day.

'Future World' Company is simultaneously releasing a magic projector and movies, offering a 40% discount on new products for only 120 Galleons. The price isn't low, but it still attracted considerable attention.

Especially with the addition of news about the hottest competition at the moment, its name ignited the market, selling 150 units in the first week, not even counting overseas orders. Although sales will certainly decrease and stabilize in the future, it is a good start.

This was followed by discussions about the warriors, and the wizards seemed to have entered Easter early, with large numbers of owls flooding the campus every day. Posters supporting the warriors even appeared in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade.

In this atmosphere, Rita Skeeter emerged from a Muggle-run rental house.

She organized her manuscript, a satisfied expression on her face. Under immense pressure, she had performed at an unprecedented level. If this book were published, it would surely be a market sensation.

and……

“My colleagues are quite capable as well.” She pondered, a press pass on the table with her photo and title—Trainee Reporter for The Times.

That's right. Her disappearance from the magical world during this period was not because she hid away, but because she temporarily severed ties with the magical world.

Chapter 460 Birthday Gift

Rita Skeeter had her own plans.

She was able to be disliked by many while simultaneously thriving in the world because she knew what couldn't be reported and who couldn't be offended. There's an interesting fact here: different people value the same thing to varying degrees, and the same person values ​​different things to varying degrees.

She could report on the Malfoy family's extravagance and power, but she would never touch upon their rise to wealth under the Muggle king's decree, or their past close association with Death Eaters; she might use harsh words to describe Dumbledore as a "rigid old madman," but she would never write about their forbidden friendship from half a century ago, or mention his deceased relatives.

Unless they are gone.

She developed her own unique reporting style based on this distinctive understanding of news, making her stand out in the magical world and gaining a loyal following. However, she has had a run of bad luck in the past two years, experiencing a series of mishaps.

The first time she ran into trouble was two years ago when she encountered a low-key wizard. She misjudged the situation, thinking that it wouldn't be a big deal to offend him, but she ran into a brick wall and was confronted by the wizard.

The second time was also two years ago, when Lockhart, that good-for-nothing, discovered her secret of being an illegal Animagus. She had to act first and use Oblivion to get out of trouble. Afterwards, when she learned that Lockhart was a true memory master, she broke out in a cold sweat. With her extensive knowledge, she naturally knew her own limitations. Her clumsy Oblivion Charm could not hold him for long, so she hurriedly went to the Ministry of Magic to report the Animagus.

Although her reputation worsened, she escaped punishment and was only fined a sum of money.

The third instance involves her ambitious work, *Against the Dark Terror*. Ever since her rival and nemesis was imprisoned in Azkaban, she has been considering completing a highly impactful new book, and Regulus Black, who has the reputation of being endorsed by Dumbledore and is a descendant of an ancient pure-blood family, comes into her view. He also has a hidden identity: a former Death Eater!

She didn't care whether it was true or not, but the story was very marketable, wasn't it? And even more fortunately, both main characters in the story were dead.

The only obstacle in this matter was perhaps Sirius Black, the sole heir of the Black family. If his wanted poster were still hanging in Diagon Alley, she would never have dared to do this, but Black was ultimately proven innocent. What a fool, spending over a decade in prison for nothing; Rita Skeeter even suspected he had intellectual disabilities.

But regardless, since Sirius Black was innocent, she was no longer afraid of him. Think about it: the last member of an ancient, pure-blooded family, who ran away from home at 16 and inherited nothing from the family—what was there to be afraid of?

In her view, Sirius should have been busy scheming and restoring the family's glory at that time.

As a result, things spiraled out of control. First, Sirius Black kept sending her howling letters, and then news came that the Dark Lord's loyal henchman had been resurrected and escaped capture. This terrified her and made her furious. When did Azkaban become a sieve?

Damn it, Barty Crouch! Both of them!

She repeatedly tried to uncover the truth through various connections, and the more she learned, the more chilled she became. She even went so far as to use a secret intelligence source and finally met a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Magic. The way he looked at her was as if she were a dead person.

She immediately pledged allegiance to the most powerful wizard she could reach, Felix Hyp, and offered up all sorts of secret intelligence that she had painstakingly collected over the years.

She finally realized who she had messed with—she had guessed all sorts of possibilities, even suspecting that she was being targeted by some saint, but she never expected it to be someone who was already dead.

The servant pretends to be dead, and the master also pretends to be dead. What kind of strange fetish is this?

Despite receiving Felix Heap's promise, she worried that she was being used as bait and that she might be the one who got swallowed up instead of the fish. After much deliberation, she decided to go into hiding for a while. Under the pretext of writing her book in peace, she quietly moved to the Muggle community and temporarily cut off her contact with the wizarding world.

During a stroll, she stumbled upon a newsstand, and one of the Muggle tabloids unexpectedly suited her taste. Although she didn't particularly like the third edition... she still used some "tricks" to get the job of a trainee reporter.

After a few short stints, she became the editor-in-chief's most outstanding intern, and her promotion to a full-fledged reporter was just around the corner. Moreover, she had no intention of giving up this position; she decided to persuade the editor-in-chief, whose fashion sense was terrible, to allow her a certain degree of autonomy.

That morning, Rita Skeeter left The Sun's office. She had promised to bring the paper a major story each month, in return for more flexible working hours.

At noon, she returned to Diagon Alley.

Rita Skeeter took a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. On her way back to the Daily Prophet headquarters, she was surprised to see various posters plastered all over Diagon Alley, even Barty Crouch Jr.'s wanted poster was obscured.

Rita Skeeter stared blankly at the dozen or so people on the poster. They were all warriors of the tournament, people she knew well, and she had even participated in the pre-tournament wand checks and reported on the first event. But now it was clear that something big had happened that she was unaware of.

Half an hour later, at the headquarters of the Daily Prophet, she learned the details of what had happened from the photographer's assistant.

The second project!

Magic Projector!

And of course, there's also—ancient magic script!

Having spent two months at The Sun, Rita Skeeter certainly knew what a projector was, and she even understood the operating logic of the 'Future World' company.

"Are those little guys really famous now?" she asked, smoothing her curly hair.

“Rita, you’re missing out on a fortune in Galleons!” her photographer said.

Rita Skeeter lowered her head and gazed at him from behind her jeweled glasses. "Oh, Bozo... there's never a shortage of news, but I did something more important."

"So, uh, what are you planning to do now—"

“Of course I’ll get a piece of the pie!” Rita Skeeter said, reaching into her crocodile-skin handbag and pulling out a dark green pen and a notebook. The photographer stared in surprise at her new gear, while Rita Skeeter subtly shifted the position of her ouroboros ring on her finger, revealing only a dark green circle.

"Hurry up!" she said sternly. "Don't tell me you haven't done anything all this time! Bring me all the photos you've taken!"

……

Meanwhile, Felix was staring at a package delivered by an owl.

It was a birthday present.

He gently unwrapped the outer packaging, inside which was a birthday card and a birthday cake. After checking several times and finding no trace of magic, he opened the birthday card. The greeting on the card was brief, and the signature was still a simple first name, Jane, without a surname.

“Strange…did I mention my birthday? Besides, it’s a week late…” Felix muttered to himself. His birthday was April 8th, but it was already the 15th. The owl with the post office logo on its leg band had flown away, which meant he didn’t need to write a reply.

Chapter 461 Easter

Felix took out colorful candles from the package with great interest, stuck them on the cake, and lit them one by one with a match. When he blew out the candles, he suddenly realized that he was already 24 years old.

Today is the first day of the Easter holiday, and he has no classes. Even Valen is still sleeping in.

He thought about his recent schedule. Draco Malfoy was coming over in the afternoon to practice the Disillusionment Charm. He had already mastered the spell, but the fluctuations in his magic were too obvious, and it was easy for others to spot the flaws at close range. Later that day, it would be Harry's turn. His Occlumency spell was on track, and he only had a few pages left in that spellbook.

Tomorrow is Easter, and there's a banquet in the evening. He'd heard that four other schools would be putting on performances, and he sincerely hoped that the busy goblins he'd seen passing the Quidditch pitch weren't preparing for that… The next day he would set off for the Ministry of Magic to train its Aurors and batters, and also to deliver the completed pamphlet of spellbooks to the publisher. Scrimgeour had written to offer him a nominal advisory position, which he didn't particularly care for, but still politely thanked him in his reply.

The bedroom door opened, and Valen stood in the doorway, yawning.

"Chirp...?"

"A familiar taste?" Felix laughed. "It's a birthday cake. We can eat the fruit and chocolate on top first. It brings back memories; I've only had this kind of cake since I was in the orphanage..."

"Ha!"

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was brightly lit the following evening. Many young wizards had gone home for the holiday, but a considerable number remained, eager to see the legendary goblin performance.

When Felix entered the auditorium, he saw a giant Easter egg in the center of the room. Upon closer inspection, he discovered that the egg was made up of various sweets: candied fruit, pudding, mint hard candy, nut brittle, liqueur-filled chocolates, and filled gummies… A group of students surrounded the egg, pointing and discussing it.

The presidents of the male and female student councils had to loudly announce that this could only be shared after the dinner.

However, Harry wasn't too eager for Easter eggs. He had been consuming far too many sweets these past two days. In addition to Professor Hyp's birthday cake that he received yesterday afternoon, he also received an Easter egg the size of a dragon egg from Mrs. Weasley this morning, filled with homemade toffee. He was quite full, and even his burps had a cloyingly sweet taste.

He, Ron, and Hermione found a seat and sat down, waiting for the dinner to begin.

"I told you that woman wouldn't stay quiet!" Hermione threw a newspaper at me.