A certain Hogwarts professor of runes.

Either succeed—everything the user does during time travel becomes part of history, a kind of completion of history. It's like "destiny," but Hermione explained to him that so-called destiny is actually because the user succeeds; if they fail, it will have extremely serious consequences, like Eloise Minttab.

What should he say? Harry thought about it seriously and quickly came up with a solution. It was actually quite simple; he just needed to omit the part about Hermione using the converter. As for how the professor managed to "come back to life," he didn't know. Perhaps it was special magic that he shouldn't know, right?

Harry suddenly remembered a detail: Crouch Jr. had clearly recognized the Time-Turner and even wanted to expose its secret… So that's why the professor chose to kill him immediately? Harry felt a pang of revulsion towards killing, but immediately blamed himself for his weakness. This was war, he reminded himself, especially since Crouch Jr. had done so many bad things. The stories of the Death Eaters and Aurors that Professor Moody had his students read aloud in class flashed before his eyes…

He had never realized the war was so close. Harry suddenly became sentimental, knowing that his fifteenth birthday was still a month away.

The night sky was dotted with stars. To his left stood a dark and majestic labyrinthine castle, standing silently in the darkness. To his right was a high, arched grandstand. He squinted, and shadowy figures moved about everywhere on the ground.

He saw two large, imposing figures, several sizes larger than the others, as if they had been enlarged by a spell. They must be Hagrid and Madam Maxim. Not far from them, Harry saw a tall, thin silhouette with a translucent silver beard that swayed freely in the cool night breeze… It was Dumbledore. Harry's heart quickly calmed down, and he dragged his weary steps toward them.

"We've searched the entire Forbidden Forest, but haven't found a single clue!" Hagrid waved his arms in frustration. "I even asked the centaurs to help search, but there's still no news..."

"You heard it too, Cornelius, the specifics are still unknown... I'm afraid we can only wait and see," Dumbledore said calmly.

“How can I be at ease, Dumbledore?” Fudge yelled. “Three warriors who just won the Championship have vanished, and their fate is still unknown… What will the press corps write tomorrow?”

“Connelly, what the reporters write isn’t important; what matters is the meaning behind this event—”

"What does it mean?" Fudge immediately pressed.

“Isn’t that obvious enough!” an angry voice roared close to Fudge’s ear. Fudge jumped in fright and turned around. Mad-Eye Moody was standing next to him, his heavy body leaning against his cane, his demonic eye staring straight at him.

“Sorry, I can’t tell,” Fudge said coldly, glancing disapprovingly at the Aurors behind him; they had clearly failed in their duty.

“Think about why I was made a puppet? And who put Harry Potter and his two friends’ names into the Goblet of Fire?” Moody said gruffly, tapping his cane on the ground with a loud thud.

“You mean Barty Crouch Jr.?” Fudge frowned. “But he’s already escaped, and a third of the Aurors have been hunting him for him all this time, except for tonight…”

"So you think it's all over? Crouch Jr. and his backers went to all that trouble to get Harry out of school, and you're just going to give up so easily? Shouldn't what happened today have alerted you?"

Moody spat angrily on the ground, and Fudge's face turned red.

“Alastor is right, Cornelius. You can’t ignore the looming danger. I’m almost certain we’re in the middle of a huge conspiracy,” Dumbledore said softly.

“Conspiracy?” Fudge repeated the word. Harry stood at the back of the crowd. The moon wasn’t very bright tonight, and Fudge’s face was shrouded in shadow, making him look far less affable than Harry had seen him at the Leaky Cauldron during their second-year summer vacation—even though they had been discussing Harry’s illegal inflation of his aunt.

“I know what you’re going to say, it’s the same old story again… I told you at the dinner that I had already sent out an elite team, and everything will depend on their findings,” Fudge said impatiently. “If we’re talking about a conspiracy, I’d like to ask, where is Felix Heap? You’ve been so evasive, Dumbledore…”

“I think,” Dumbledore said calmly, “Felix might have a special sense of whereabouts of Potter, Weasley and Granger. He is very good at making all sorts of gadgets, which often come in very handy at crucial moments... For example, the amulet he gave me at Christmas helped me a lot.”

"I don't have time to listen to your rambling—"

“I’m just giving an example,” Dumbledore said gently. “On the contrary, I’m equally curious—there seems to be one less guard coming out of the labyrinthine castle? Where did he go?”

Fudge turned to look at the two Aurors behind him. One of them nodded to him and said softly, "Axley is missing."

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Fudge said immediately. “Maybe he’s discovered something unusual… add him to the search list.” He said to the Auror. The Auror nodded and turned to leave.

"The Yaxley you're looking for is a Death Eater!" Harry couldn't hold back any longer and shouted from behind.

Those blocking the way were startled. The one closest to Harry—one of Beauxbatons' warriors, Jacqueline—jumped up in fright. She had been watching the spectacle with Madam Maxim, and now her eyes were wide as she stared at the dark, dusty Harry, backing away in fear.

A stir ran through the crowd. "Harry's back!" a voice shouted. "He's back alive!" The news spread like wildfire, and people kept approaching, footsteps rushing toward him from all directions.

People raised their wands, trying to get a better look. The dense clusters of lights made Harry dizzy, and gasps and screams rose and fell. Among the many voices, he heard Mrs. Weasley's distinctive voice, as well as Hagrid's excited roar.

Immediately afterward, a pair of strong arms grabbed him. Harry strained his eyes and saw it was Dumbledore.

"You're all back?" he asked quickly.

“Yes,” Harry said, glancing out of the corner of his eye as Sirius and Lupin tried to squeeze in.

"So, Felix succeeded?" he continued in a low voice to confirm.

“What is it?” Harry stared at Dumbledore in astonishment. He winked mischievously and silently mouthed: Time-Turner.

Harry was too shocked to speak. But Dumbledore seemed to read the answer in his expression, and his voice regained its composure and calm as he asked in a normal volume, "You saw Voldemort?" The people around them were startled by the question, and they stopped pushing forward, staring intently at Dumbledore and Harry.

Harry noticed that Fudge's eyes were as big as a cow's.

“Yes! Headmaster Dumbledore, we met Voldemort. He was resurrected months ago! He was the one who planned tonight’s plot, and—” Harry suddenly remembered something, “Axley! He was the one who changed the destination of the Portkey Trophy!”

The crowd surged forward and became restless once again, the ripples spreading even further, causing hundreds of people around to gasp in unison.

"Are you sure?" Fudge charged at Harry like a bull, grabbing him by the collar and spitting as he spoke. "Are you sure? Where's Heap? Where's Felix Heap? What did he do?"

"He saved us!" Harry shouted angrily.

"Everyone is alive too?" Fudge asked, his nostrils flaring.

Harry suddenly didn't want to answer Fudge's question, but then he saw the Weasleys and Grangers in the crowd, their eyes gleaming with fear and hope. So he said loudly, "Yes! Ron and Hermione are alive, they're both fine! Except for that Death Eater, I don't know if he died in the aftermath of the battle."

Mrs. Granger screamed and then fainted. Mrs. Weasley fared slightly better, but sobbed loudly, and their relatives comforted them gently.

“Please bring Madam Pomfrey here,” Dumbledore said in a deep voice, grabbing Harry’s shoulder, which Fudge released as if electrocuted. “There are some people here who need treatment. Minerva, look after the Grangers for me.”

Professor McGonagall nodded.

Hagrid squeezed in, followed by Sirius and Lupin, who came to Harry through the huge gap Hagrid had made.

"You're injured? Harry, you're injured?" Sirius tried to see something from Harry, but Harry was covered in dirt, as if he had been rolling in the mud for half an hour. He couldn't see anything.

“It’s nothing,” Harry whispered, “just a few Crucifixion Curses…”

“Ouch! That’s the Crucifixion Curse!” Sirius exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say so sooner!” He glared at Harry, but Harry felt a warm glow inside. Then Sirius tried to pick him up.

“I’ll do it,” Hagrid said gruffly, as he cradled Harry in his arms like a baby.

“No, wait,” Harry struggled desperately in Hagrid’s arms. “Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Hyp, Ron, and Hermione are still in the makeshift tent. Professor Hyp… he, um… he’s being tended to his injuries and doesn’t want to be disturbed by anyone else…”

“I understand,” Dumbledore said. “I will set up another temporary tent next to it.”

Hagrid, Sirius, Lupin, Dumbledore, and their group walked toward the makeshift tent, followed silently by the crowd, all wanting a definite answer... Fudge remained where he was, his expression hesitant.

Just then, the Auror who had just left returned and whispered something to Fudge. Fudge stared in surprise, his mouth opening and closing several times.

“Wait, Dumbledore!” he called out.

“Fudge,” Dumbledore said, his impatience evident for the first time that evening, “you’ve seen their condition—they need treatment, not questioning from the Ministry of Magic. If you want the truth, stay tonight, and we’ll hear it together tomorrow morning—”

“No, Dumbledore, you’d better listen to this,” Fudge said, his expression a mixture of confusion and relief. He pointed at the Auror and said, “Repeat what you’ve learned.”

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, the Auror stammered, "I just received news that Yaxley has been found. He... he's dead—but before he died, he told us... he said it was all Felix Heap's conspiracy, and he was the mastermind!"

Chapter 488 The Human Heart Is Unpredictable

Inside the makeshift tent, Ron sat on a chair with his feet up, letting out a long sigh. "It's been a really long night."

“Yes,” Hermione said absentmindedly.

"Do you have anything to eat?" Ron asked.

Hermione turned to look at him.

"Hermione, I didn't eat much for dinner." Ron shrugged and said aggrievedly, "If I don't eat something soon, I'll starve to death before Madam Pomfrey gets here."

"Eat, eat, eat, all you ever do is eat."

Hermione angrily pulled out her beaded pouch, took out some snacks and threw them at Ron. Only after doing all this did she realize that she had just inexplicably lost her temper.

“Don’t worry, Hermione, the professor has come back from the dead, so he’ll be fine now,” Ron said, understanding her concerns. After offering a few words of comfort, he looked at the package in his hand and asked, “What’s this?”

“Potato chips and chocolate,” Hermione said.

"How come I've never seen this before..." Ron muttered to himself. He tore open the packaging, picked up a potato chip, examined it for a long time, put it in his mouth, and then his eyes lit up.

“They’re Muggle snacks,” Hermione explained.

“It tastes really good,” Ron sighed contentedly. “You used to eat this when you were a kid? I’ll try the chocolate one… Hmm, that’s not bad either, but I still think the chocolate frog flavor is better.”

He finished eating in no time.

"Anything else, Hermione?" Ron couldn't help but ask.

Hermione rummaged through them carefully. "The rest are all compressed biscuits; they don't have much flavor—"

"It's ok!"

For the next while, the only sound in the tent was Ron eating.

"Click, click."

"How long do you think the professor will maintain this state?" Hermione asked worriedly, as Felix looked like a glowing statue.

"Hmm... I don't know. Dumbledore will be here soon, you can ask him... Click click..."

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps came from outside the tent.

“Someone’s coming,” Hermione said.

“Great,” Ron said.

"I'll go check," Hermione said, a little worried, as she stood up and walked towards the tent flap.

……

After an unknown amount of time, Felix opened his eyes and slowly surveyed his surroundings.

The tent was empty.

He barely managed to suppress the boiling magic within his body, preventing it from becoming too active.

He had just experienced... no, he was still undergoing all sorts of miraculous changes. First, his magic was like boiling water, becoming extremely unstable, far exceeding any magic surge he had ever experienced. Even now, his magic flowed like a babbling brook. Second, his body was filled with magic surging in every corner, causing his flesh, skin, and bones to mutate.

This mutation seemed to touch upon the essence of life and the essence of magic. Felix believed that his body itself was a vast treasure waiting to be discovered.

Only then did he finally feel completely at ease.

Felix calmly thought that, even if he didn't want to admit it, he was still slightly weaker in the fight against Voldemort. In fact, the two should have been evenly matched, but Voldemort's Killing Curse was unusually powerful, and every time he faced the green light of the curse, he felt a chill run down his spine.

He absolutely couldn't get hit; that was his survival instinct telling him. But at that moment, he had to do it; there was no other choice. Magical golems and illusions created by mind houses couldn't fool a wizard as skilled as Voldemort.

He has to really die once.

Unless he wants to see other people die...

“Everyone has the right to choose. I’ve made my choice, Ms. Jane. Goodbye,” Felix said softly.

A low commotion came from outside the tent, along with the chaotic footsteps of hundreds of people, but Felix paid no attention to it. He was completely absorbed in his own transformation. He raised his left hand, and every line on his palm flowed with a crystal-clear light.

Under his gaze, the Book of Runes appeared out of thin air, its pages turning with a "whoosh," and magical phantoms appeared one after another. Felix's heart stirred; he had a feeling that as long as he wanted, countless runes would surge out of his body, forming ancient magic in an instant without him having to actively condense them.

"So the Book of Runes should be used in conjunction with the transformed body," Felix thought to himself, deciding to try it sometime. He placed the Book of Runes into the palm of his left hand and integrated it into his body—the previous problem of where to put the Book of Runes had been unexpectedly solved.

Meanwhile, the noise outside grew louder and louder. He heard Hermione's shrill voice, Harry's annoyed shouts, Dumbledore's calm rebuttal, and Fudge's exasperated yelling, all accompanied by an uneasy commotion. Everything seemed chaotic.