A certain Hogwarts professor of runes.

Chapter 720 Declaration

The speech was lengthy. It began by exposing, one by one, the illegal and clandestine imprisonment and control of gifted young wizards by the US government, the theft of secrets, and the covert killing of solitary wizards. It then reviewed the escalating anti-witchcraft sentiment and violence that has recently been incited across various social strata, and finally—

"...This is a serious violation of the Charter of the Federation and Alliance. If we do not stand up and resist, the rights of wizards will not be protected, and our children will face a fate even more cruel than that of the Middle Ages."

"This country is no longer suitable for the public activities of ordinary wizards."

"For the reasons stated above, the International Wizarding Federation and the International Pan-Magical Alliance jointly issued a notice suspending all exchanges and contacts between other regions and the Americas, including but not limited to tourism, visiting friends, graduation trips, participation in international magic competitions, and hosting group activities; ceasing the issuance of transnational portal keys; cutting off the Floo Network; suspending negotiations and all cooperation between the two sides; American wizards are to go underground and conceal their identities in accordance with the former Secrecy Act; the Federation and Alliance reserve the right to issue further statements and take necessary measures..."

The news anchor on TV was dutifully delivering his report, while outside, wind howled and rain and snow lashed down. Inside, the induction cooker whirred. Finon slumped on the sofa, his flabby body held in place like a long, thin strip, his hands constantly switching channels with the remote—he'd lost count of how many times this week he'd heard similar news on TV; if you included what he'd glimpsed in the newspapers and heard from colleagues, it was probably over two hundred times.

"...The White House spokesperson stated that the wizards brainwashed by the government do not exist, which further confirms that the Magical Congress of the United States has infiltrated the government. According to declassified documents, a very serious incident occurred in the 1920s, and it is reported that..."

Change the channel. "The United States submitted a 'Draft Regulations on Wizard Management and Control' to the United Nations. The Magical Congress of the United States responded directly, stating 'no compromise' and demanding that the other side hand over the murderer..."

Channel changed again. "The International Court of Justice speaks out—"

"Wizard, wizard, still a wizard."

Finon kept muttering to himself, and angrily changed the channel again.

"The International Court of Justice of the Federation provides a detailed explanation of Article 7 of the Charter of the Federation and the League..."

There was a noise at the door, followed by the sound of the door being pushed open and footsteps. Penny came in shivering, carrying a net bag full of vegetables and food. Her lips were blue from the cold, her cheekbones were high, and snowflakes were stuck in her hair. Her long neck was wrapped in her collar and her shoulders were hunched over, like a giraffe forced to spend the winter in the snow.

She walked in, glanced at the television, and immediately pursed her lips, but offered no comment. She hurried into the kitchen, and half an hour later, Penny called from the dining room, "Dinner's ready." "Coming," Vernon muttered, preparing to turn off the television—"Urgent news!"

His hand was suspended in mid-air.

The news anchor was flustered and it took him more than ten seconds to regain his composure.

"...At 2:40 PM local time, a dozen wizards appeared out of nowhere in New York Harbor. Their purpose was unclear, and a large number of reporters and onlookers flocked to the scene. Judging from the footage transmitted by the drone, these wizards were wearing the insignia of the Magical Congress of the United States and the International Confederation of Wizards. Could they be planning something against America's largest port? But they all had their backs to the harbor and looked solemn...There's something underwater, quickly cut the camera to that!"

Finnon was so engrossed in the television that he didn't even notice Penny coming out of the kitchen.

In the afternoon, a huge splash suddenly appeared on the shimmering water in front of the harbor, and a massive black shadow gradually emerged from the surface, like a silent, deep black fish, its head raised, becoming clearer and clearer. It was a submarine.

A black submarine appeared in New York Harbor. "It's unbelievable, it seems to have appeared out of thin air. The Coast Guard and shore personnel didn't give any warning—the submarine is already half-exposed, and my colleagues are currently working hard to verify its serial number... Judging from its exposed shape and markings, it's probably for marine science experiments—oh my God!"

Finnon's eyes widened. Forgetting to complain about the host's overreaction, he plopped back down on the sofa, the springs groaning. His mind was blank—

The black submarine's bow was abnormally raised, like a lifeless dead fish, but its size was so large that it had a strong sense of oppression. As drone cameras swept across the harbor, people's eyes were fixed on the water's surface. The submarine's arc was as large as a rocket poised for launch. Its height continued to rise, and its black hull burst out of the water, creating huge whirlpools. It completely detached itself from the water and hung in mid-air.

With a thud, the submarine landed on the ground, creating a large crater in the harbor.

Everyone who witnessed this scene felt their hearts crack like spiderwebs in the concrete, and they couldn't help but gasp for breath. The roar of propellers echoed in the distance, and local law enforcement finally reacted.

At this moment, a dozen wizards guarding the shore suddenly moved. Their wands were like precise scalpels, and with a series of unpleasant "squeaks," the submarine's hull was peeled off, revealing its interior.

As is well known, the interior of a submarine is relatively cramped, but the area near the center is surprisingly spacious, highlighting its importance. This modified area is divided into three spaces, connected by steel and thick glass doors, allowing glimpses of the interior. Only a narrow passageway remains on the outer side. The wizards continued dismantling the submarine efficiently, casting spells that caused steel pipes and valves to detach wherever they went. They tore open the walls of a special material as easily as tearing open a bag of potato chips, revealing the interior layout. The first two spaces contained various instruments, the counterparts of which even the most uninformed person could recognize from television programs—it was a place resembling a small laboratory.

The wizards continued waving their wands, their wrists becoming more swung, as if in a hurry. Their movements became rougher, and sheet metal and pipes were moved aside, including those people who seemed to be encased in amber—six or seven of them wearing white coats—and half a minute later, the last thick iron door was opened.

A young man with black hair and blue eyes emerged from inside. It was Felix, and many people recognized him—thanks to the overwhelming media coverage in North America, some people viewed him as a cult leader. Surprisingly, he had also gained a considerable number of supporters, mostly young people.

Felix's hand was draped behind his back, seemingly pulling at someone. Soon, those near the port recognized him as a child wearing a hospital gown. Drone footage clearly captured the boy's pale face, an unnatural, deathly white, as if he had never been exposed to sunlight since birth.

The second one to emerge was a little girl, wearing a sleeveless dress. Her eyes darted around, seemingly uncomfortable with so many people, and she desperately hid behind the adults. Her arms were covered in needle marks, half of her hair was bald, and her eyes were squinted, showing obvious signs of photophobia.

The harbor was deathly silent. Then, six or seven helicopters flew in, circling overhead, machine guns aimed downwards. "Warning! Warning! Drop your weapons! Drop your weapons and surrender immediately—"

The conversation abruptly stopped. They naturally didn't know how far the area covered by the Mind Hut was, nor what entering this area meant. The others on the shore looked up at the thin painting floating in the sky, swirling in the wind, like a movie poster falling from the heavens.

……

Four children emerged from the submarine. Felix then held a brief, impromptu press conference for the arriving reporters.

"Magic and science are two excellent systems that can complement each other. I have noticed that some scientists have called magic the engine or key to the next technological revolution. They are eager to update existing basic scientific theories. If this is true, it is a pity that some countries may miss out."

"The International Federation of Wizards and the International Pan-Magical Alliance uphold the overall interests of wizards. We respect the laws of any country as much as we respect the laws we have made ourselves. This is emphasized in the Federation and Alliance Charter, which states that we will only sit down to negotiate when there is common ground. However, in the past few months, we have been fooled and given empty promises... Conflict? We have tried our best to avoid conflict, but that doesn't mean allowing our own children to be put on the lab table for blood tests; calmness? The fact that I can still speak calmly and eloquently without unleashing my fury is enough to prove that wizards still possess sufficient rationality. But as long as this continues to happen and the perpetrators remain at large, negotiations cannot continue... Perhaps your understanding differs from ours?"

"What happened today only proves the correctness of our previous warnings. This land is extremely dangerous and unsuitable for ordinary wizards to live on... The Wizarding Union and the Pan-Magical Alliance will do everything in our power to help wizards in need to leave this land that shelters evil. Although they should not be under any security threat, having established a legitimate wizarding regime a century ago before any non-magical regime."

"Slunk away? No, they'll leave openly... The evacuation will take about two weeks, and as for the location... I think this place is perfect. It's spacious and can easily accommodate hundreds of thousands of people... Heh, it's even suitable as a battlefield."

This is undoubtedly a declaration of war.

The reporters present all understood the underlying meaning. While there had been previous clashes between the two sides, they had all been accidental. This time, however, it was completely different. The time and place were set in advance, giving the government ample time to mobilize the army. This indicated that they were preparing for a full-scale confrontation.

This is absolutely big news! The follow-up to this incident was that half an hour later, a group of fully armed police took over the port, but no matter what they tried, they couldn't move the equipment inside the submarine. It was as if it was glued to the ground. In the end, they could only leave with the white coat with its mouth and eyes crooked and a few realistic helicopter stickers on the ground.

American Magic Hospital.

Felix handed the children over to the healer, while Horace Greenstinch, who was also involved in the rescue operation, whispered, "Based on the memory of that senator, we rescued twelve groups of young wizards. Even if there are any left, they will be completely hidden underground."

Felix nodded slowly.

Horace Greenstinch hesitated for a moment, then said hesitantly, “Mr. Hyp, I don’t object to American wizards going underground; it’s not much different from before anyway. But in a direct confrontation… wizards might not have an advantage.”

"What are you thinking? We don't need you; we're just using your name."

"Are they people from the Federation?"

"Don't worry about it. The Magical Congress of the United States is responsible for maintaining order. I know you will stay, and even most wizards will choose to stay, but there will definitely be some who want to leave. Let them prepare in advance."

As time passed, the world seemed to quiet down, gazing silently at the land of America. For the first time in half a century, they felt the shadow of war so close. The once bustling cities seemed to have entered a period of great depression ahead of schedule. Countless people drove away, and the ships docked in the ports disappeared, leaving only a few guard ships drifting listlessly.

The doors of Parliament were tightly shut, and no one knew what kind of heated debate was taking place inside. Even the British wizarding world, thousands of miles away, was affected, with construction on the new Diagon Alley being forced to a halt—the official excuse, of course, being the effects of a blizzard.

Perhaps it was the final calm before the great battle, but Felix suddenly found himself with nothing to do. All negotiations were temporarily suspended, and it seemed everyone was waiting for the outcome of the conflict. He returned to the school, slept soundly, and woke up to the astonished looks of his students and professors. Professor McGonagall was the first to appear and lead him away.

In the principal's office—

"Are we really going to go to war?" Professor McGonagall asked with a serious expression.

“We don’t want war, but we have no other choice,” Felix said. “If we concede on such a matter of principle, not only will the living conditions of American wizards be extremely harsh—the entire wizarding world will be in dire straits, and it will also cause division… Don’t oversimplify things. The other side won’t start a full-scale war, at least not against all American wizards, but winning them over, spying on them, and sowing discord… these are their forte. If they succeed, the American magical world will face the biggest rift in its history. And this will lead to a series of chain reactions.”

"Isn't there any way to stop it? Once a war starts, it's not so easy to stop it."

“Don’t ask me, I don’t know,” Felix said, shaking his head slightly. “This matter involves too many factors. Neither Akinbad nor I want things to escalate. It’s best to limit it to North America, or more precisely, to one region of the United States. From a global perspective, both the wizarding and non-wizarding communities are anticipating a conflict, as if human life is worthless… Before, with Grindelwald, many people might have still held onto hope—I mean, in their eyes, maybe I would fight him and one of us would die. But with the promulgation and implementation of the Charter of the Federation and Alliance, that possibility is now very low—”

"The establishment of a new order will inevitably be accompanied by bloodshed and conflict, and various challenges. If we overcome these challenges, the world will usher in a period of peaceful development. But if we fail, the impact will be far more than just the living environment of American wizards—even previously signed contracts may be disrupted. Fortunately, we laid a solid foundation in the past few months..."

"We must seize this opportunity to fight, face to face, head to head, and dispel all those ill-intentioned glances in one fell swoop."

Professor McGonagall was silent for a moment, then said, "Felix, I called you here because of something else."

"what?"

"Didn't you dream of talking to the Sorting Hat? It agreed."

“I didn’t dream about it—what did you say, Minerva?” Felix looked up from the ceiling on the sofa, staring at her in surprise. Professor McGonagall rose from her seat, her gaze following the portrait of the headmaster on the wall.

"Even Dumbledore couldn't know all the secrets of this castle, let alone me. But I think if the four founders really left behind a key to unlock the secrets, the most likely one is the Sorting Hat... I hope this helps."

After she finished speaking, she left, leaving Felix alone in the principal's office.

Felix paused for a moment, then stared intently at the Sorting Hat on the partition. He quickly stood up, moved closer to the partition, and examined the dirty, dusty hat closely. The hat didn't move. He picked it up, shook it, and returned to the sofa, his expression surprisingly tense.

He sat quietly for a few seconds and then put the Sorting Hat on his head.

Chapter 721 The Sorting Hat Journey

Felix, wearing a dirty, wrinkled Sorting Hat covered in pudding, whispered, "You have something to say to me?" As he spoke, he glanced at the frames of the portraits on the wall, and the portraits immediately closed their eyes and began to snore.

"I don't want to look for you. It's you who's been eyeing me all along." A faint voice echoed in my mind.

"I'm very curious about how you exist."

"What are you curious about?"

"You've existed for too long, and your material is far too ordinary—"

“Think about the headmaster’s portrait on the wall, and then think about Peeves,” the Sorting Hat said in a smooth tone.

“Portraits? Peeves? They—” Felix’s expression froze. “Wait, you’re part of the school too?”

"That's right. As long as the school exists, I will continue to exist, even if I am just an ordinary hat."

Having resolved a long-standing question, Felix felt both relieved and bewildered. After a moment's thought, he calmly asked himself, "By the way, why was I assigned to Slytherin?"

"Oh, let me think—calm, clear-headed, worshipful of power, set his sights on the top of the magical world on the very first day of school, and remained steadfast in his ambition. Moreover—forgive my bluntness, at such a young age he had a clear understanding of the darker aspects of human nature and was well-prepared for them, which is quite rare in my entire career."

Felix clicked his tongue. "So, I perfectly fit Salazar Slytherin's philosophy for selecting students?"

"Ideology? What ideology?" the Sorting Hat asked casually.

"Of course, it's the ideas of the four school founders—"

"So you think I had a little note filled with requirements sewn into my lining?"

“I thought there would be something similar,” Felix said calmly. “Like a fixed mindset or a standard procedure.” The Sorting Hat interrupted indignantly:

"—So my job is to hide behind the students' thinking and tick off each item on a piece of paper?"

"You seem to have a different opinion."

“Of course! Yes! Much more important and much more complex than you can imagine,” the Sorting Hat proclaimed. “Though I am just a hat, I have my own thoughts and personality. I am smarter than most people, and I don’t have any human flaws. I don’t need to eat or sleep; my mouth is solely for speaking and has no other uses—I am also obsessed with beneficial thinking, and, well, I spend most of my time reminiscing about the past and composing new songs…”

“That’s amazing,” Felix said, though he wasn’t quite sure what was so memorable. Was it the years he spent in the Hogwarts Headmaster’s office, eavesdropping on the headmasters’ meetings? But did that feel like participation? Or was it experiencing nearly a thousand Sorting Ceremony alone? But the question was, did he really not get them mixed up?

The Sorting Hat seemed to choke for a moment. After a brief silence, it said, "I'll show you with my own eyes."

"it is good."

Felix closed his eyes and waited, but the Sorting Hat remained motionless for a long time. He was surprised.

"Remove the defenses of your brain," the Sorting Hat said sullenly. "I can't see anything but surface thoughts; it's like hitting a wall..."

“Sorry,” Felix muttered. He removed his protective gear, and a few seconds later, he felt an invisible force pulling him up from the top of his head, as if trying to drag him into the ceiling or his hat. This reminded him of how the Mind House worked, and he did not resist.

Then, in a flash, he found himself in darkness. Gradually, colors appeared in the darkness, and Felix stared as a string of points of light suddenly fell from nowhere, scattering gray-green and silver-white sparks that formed a long, muddy pool shimmering with silver light and green foam, stretching into the distance.

A lone figure wades through the murky shallow water.

Salazar Slytherin, carrying a scout's stick, walked past Felix at a leisurely pace. His expression remained unchanged as they passed each other; his simple robes appeared to be made from a single piece of black cloth, and several small snakes followed him closely.

The light and shadow flickered, transforming into a desolate wasteland. Felix saw a young man walking along a country path, his back ramrod straight, his steps light, his red hair fluttering in the wind. Young Godric Gryffindor leaped onto a rock, glanced back at the village he had come from, and then resolutely walked on into the distance.

He had no idea that his hometown would one day be named after him.

On the tranquil riverbank, Rowena Ravenclaw gazes silently at the flowing water.

In the golden valley, Helga Hufflepuff picked up an ear of wheat that shimmered in the sunlight.

Felix suddenly realized that these were the memories of the school's four founders. Then a new question arose: according to the Sorting Hat's explanation at previous Sorting ceremonies, they had collectively infused it with ideas. Felix had always thought they were concepts, but concepts always become outdated, and medieval moral values ​​may not be suitable for the present. Yet the Sorting Hat's work never stopped.