A certain Hogwarts professor of runes.

He turned around and saw Dumbledore's surprised look.

The old man said, "You mean, the Pensieve? Many wizards avoid this topic..." This was a reaction he had not expected at all.

“That’s right, I saw it when I came last time. The cabinet wasn’t closed then,” Felix explained. “As for avoiding it? I do avoid it, but I personally believe that since Voldemort isn’t dead, he will come back someday, and you are the person he fears most.”

Dumbledore shook his head, his aged face already covered with wrinkles: "Felix, I am old." He waved his hand, and the black cabinet door opened, from which a shallow stone basin flew out steadily and landed on the table in front of the two of them.

Felix examined the Pensieve closely, this ancient and rare magical artifact. Its rim was adorned with strange carvings: various mysterious letters and symbols.

He could recognize some of them, but most were outside the scope of his knowledge.

Inside the Pensieve was a pool of silvery substance, somewhat like bright silver, but constantly flowing. Felix drew his wand and gently touched it with the tip, and the silvery light began to swirl softly.

He then pressed his wand to his forehead and said softly, "Felix, I must thank you for your trust in me."

Felix gave a mischievous smile: "Oh, Headmaster Dumbledore, I'll only show you the most crucial memories. I'll keep some private things very well hidden—you won't get anything even if you put your nose right in someone's face."

For the first time that night, Dumbledore showed a hearty smile.

A shimmering silver thread was drawn out and added to the Pensieve. Felix stirred it with his wand, allowing the thread to blend into the silver light.

The two of them reached out at the same time, and when their fingertips touched the silver light in the basin, a tremendous attraction pulled them in, and without resistance, they fell into the meditation basin.

The first memory was very brief—

A little elf fell to the ground, and 'Felix' summoned the Fiery Sword, pointing it directly at the diary.

The Horcrux cried out in its dying breath: "No, I can tell you the secret to conquering death—"

But Felix didn't hesitate for a moment, controlling his longsword to pierce through the Horcrux, and the sound stopped abruptly.

This memory ends here.

The two figures reappeared in the office. Dumbledore's expression was very complicated, yet also carried a strange sense of relief.

He looked at Felix: "I am proud of your choice. In times of war, many famous wizards were easily bewitched by him, not to mention his secret to conquering death."

Dumbledore didn't even mention why Felix was able to master the Fiendfyre spell to such an extent.

At other times, he might have advised Felix not to appear too deep, but now, compared to the secret of refusing the Horcrux, these were utterly irrelevant.

And that was the first thing Felix wanted to tell Dumbledore.

The next memory is the second one—

In a pure white space, ice-blue and bronze magic intertwined to form a huge vortex, constantly tearing at the crown, with wisps of black energy emanating from it.

Dumbledore stared strangely at a figure not far away. Opposite 'Felix' stood a beautiful but stern witch, Helena, arm in arm with her. They were talking, but Dumbledore could hear nothing; even their faces were blurry.

"Is this what you call privacy?"

“We’re discussing my path in magic,” Felix said briefly.

Dumbledore kept his mouth shut; such things were the secrets of powerful wizards. He turned to look at the vortex in mid-air and exclaimed in admiration.

After a while, a blurry face burst out from the crown, only to be completely shattered by the vortex.

Dumbledore sighed with emotion, but he discovered that the two had not left the memory. After a while, he heard the only sentence in the entire memory.

That's what Mrs. Rowena Ravenclaw said to Felix, "I will rebuild the crown as your reward."

These words echoed endlessly in the empty white space.

Dumbledore looked silently at Felix beside him, who was nodding in agreement. The next second, the memory ended.

The air in the office was quiet, and no one spoke first.

After a long pause, Dumbledore said helplessly, "I understand what you mean. The crown is yours, and no one can take it away from you. If others have any objections, I will testify for you."

Felix smiled broadly. "Thank you so much, Headmaster Dumbledore. I was worried that some ignorant board members or Minister of Magic might cause me trouble."

As he spoke, Felix nimbly used his wand to pluck out his memories, causing them to vanish completely.

Dumbledore suddenly felt a pang of heartache. He waved his hand and said, "Take the crown."

Felix politely took his leave and turned to leave.

As he walked out of the office, a satisfied smile appeared on his face; all his anticipated goals had been achieved.

His main goals were threefold: first, how to weave the diary into his version of the story; second, how to dispel any doubts Dumbledore might have: what if Felix became interested in the Horcruxes? and third, the ownership of the tiara, which he was unwilling to compromise on.

So after telling the story, he casually revealed two memories, corresponding to the second and third goals respectively. Of these, the second goal was the most important.

He was so careful because he knew that Dumbledore had once been wary of him, fearing that he would turn to darkness and become the next Dark Lord.

What's even more alarming is that Dumbledore is over a hundred years old and cannot afford the consequences of a misjudgment. And Felix? He's only 22, far from his peak.

Judging from past events, Felix fully understands this concern.

Therefore, he could only put in more effort to outwit and outmaneuver the old principal and dispel his doubts.

'I'm such a considerate person.'

Chapter 138 Wind

Felix returned to his office late at night, the windows rattling in the wind.

He sat in the chair, his gaze sweeping across a corner of the table where a stack of photos lay.

Felix picked up the photos, leaned back in his chair, and quietly looked at the seven pictures. Most of them were solo shots of Helena, who always smiled quietly, just from different angles.

The only thing that comes to mind in the photos is the one with him. Helena has a funny expression about what he said at the time, and there's a clear gesture of covering her mouth in the photo.

Felix's fingers brushed over the photograph, turning her hair burgundy, before he put the photograph into his ring.

"Have a safe journey, Helena."

……

The next morning, a strong wind blew up at Hogwarts, waking Felix up very early. He walked out of his bedroom in his pajamas. The office was dimly lit, and it was pitch black outside.

The windows creaked and groaned under the onslaught of the fierce wind.

Felix snapped his fingers, and the windows seemed to become one, the sound immediately diminishing, but he couldn't stop the sound of the wind pounding against the castle walls.

Through the window, you can vaguely see the branches of the trees in the distance swaying incessantly.

"I don't want to think at all in this weather," he muttered, curling up lazily on the sofa.

Felix beckoned with his finger, and the briefcase in the corner suddenly sprang open, with reels of film floating in the air as they passed in front of him. "Tsk! They've seen them all."

"I remember a very famous movie series, I don't know if it's ever been released, what was it called again?"

"The Legend of Nagini?"

Felix shook his head and pulled a children's book, "The Adventures of Campa," from a cabinet by the wall. It was one of the Christmas gifts he had received.

The protagonist of the story is named Ronin Campa, a ten-year-old aspiring wizard.

His parents were both employees of the Ministry of Magic and were usually very busy with work, so they often asked their neighbors to take care of him. However, he didn't like the neighbor's cat and secretly ran away.

Campa originally intended to stroll around Diagon Alley, but instead accidentally wandered into Knockturn Alley and was taken away by the Black Witch using Apparition.

Fortunately, the clever Campa used a clever trick to deceive the witch and escaped successfully. What follows is a story of evading the black witch's pursuit while making various friends and striving to return home.

Felix found that if you don't consider the logic too much, such as why the witch's henchmen are three cats, named 'Nate,' 'Marsh,' and 'Morley,' and why they always find Campa before the witch and are chased away by Campa's new magical animal friends, etc., it's actually quite interesting.

He watched it with great interest and finished it in less than an hour.

"I wonder if this kind of book is popular among young wizards. I should do some research. If the response is good, I can use it as a reference to complete my new book."

"As for the plot..." He glanced at the book "The Adventures of Campa" beside him, "It's the story of a ten-year-old aspiring wizard who is sent to a Muggle school by his busy parents and lives, learns, and makes friends in an unfamiliar environment."

"Well, this aspiring wizard grew up in a magical family and is not familiar with the outside world. Through his eyes, readers can see many interesting things."

"It would be best to add some animated photos as well."

Felix casually made up a story, and finally dawn broke.

Harry woke up to the sound of the wind howling and whistling. He rubbed his glasses and put them on, looking carefully out the window.

"The wind's picking up. Well, it's already March," he muttered.

Ron was still asleep. It was Sunday, so Harry didn't wake him. He got dressed, picked up his schoolbag, and went to the common room.

He had a lot of Quidditch practice in the afternoon, so he had to hurry up and finish his homework.

When he arrived at the common room, it was empty except for two or three people, but he was not surprised to see Hermione there.

She was carving runes with a chisel, and from Harry's perspective, it already looked quite good; the light brown tip of the chisel radiated intense magic.

Burning marks were left on the chestnut wood chips.

"How's it going?" Harry asked after she stopped.

Hermione gave him an ambiguous answer: "Not bad, but I've never succeeded even once."

“Really?” Harry didn’t quite understand what he meant. “It does look pretty impressive, like the mystique of a wizard from a fairy tale.”

"Harry, you are a wizard."

"I'm talking about wizarding legends in the Muggle world." As for Hogwarts, Harry thought about how he was busy finishing his homework and found it hard to think about whether it was mysterious or not.

As Harry wrote his Herbology paper, the howling wind outside the tower continued unabated, interrupting his train of thought several times. This irritated him greatly, and he suddenly looked up expectantly and asked, "Hermione, do you think our Herbology class will be canceled if the weather is like this on Monday?"

Hermione said, "I think you might as well hope today's practice is canceled, and I'm curious how the mandrake got into someone else's flowerpot. Professor Sprout said it would happen in the next few days, and I don't want to miss it."

Last week, during the last herb class, several mandrakes held a lively and noisy dance in the third greenhouse, which pleased Professor Sprout very much.

“We’ll know they’re fully mature when they want to be moved to someone else’s flowerpot,” she said. “Then we can bring that poor little wizard in the hospital ward and Filch’s cat back to life.”

Harry muttered, "Wood definitely won't cancel training. I have faith in him."

After Ron got up, the three of them packed their things and went to the auditorium for breakfast.

Ron pointed to the crowd at Ravenclaw and said, "They don't seem very interested."

Harry said uncertainly, "Could it be that the ghost of their house has disappeared?" He thought for a moment, and although he hadn't had a good time at Nick's 500th death anniversary party, he would definitely be sad if Nick suddenly disappeared.

Just then, a silver figure rushed into the Great Hall, wielding a stack of chalk and hurling it at the Slytherin students.

He burst into loud laughter and disappeared before anyone could react.

The three stared in disbelief. After a long while, Ron finally said, "Merlin, is Peeves left unattended?"

Everyone knows that only Barrow the Blood and Dumbledore can control Peeves, and even he only shows limited respect to the Professor.