Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle

No wonder these wizards who were famous in their youth always had bad luck in their later years.

"Legendary wizards are legendary wizards after all. They represent the brightest stars in the history of magic. The four founders were very perceptive. After their bodies showed signs of abnormality, they quickly made containers to cleanse the foreign will in their bodies. There is the sword of Gryffindor, the diadem of Ravenclaw, and the gold cup of Hufflepuff. Slytherin is the most mysterious, and he even gave up his reputation and left school. It's a pity that I don't know how far he has gone on this road, and whether he succeeded in the end." Nicolas Flamel said softly.

"In order to cleanse this will, Herpo tore his own soul apart to create a Horcrux..." Melvin recalled the records about the dark wizard, and was reminded of another dark wizard who made a Horcrux, Tom Riddle.

When he was a student, Voldemort planned carefully. He opened the Chamber of Secrets, released the basilisk and framed Hagrid. Dumbledore has not found out the truth until now. He investigated the old blood relationship, killed the Riddle family and framed Morfin Gaunt. His plan was thorough and almost nothing was missed. Two years before graduation, he formed a team of Death Eaters based on the pure-blood concept, killed Smith to steal the treasure and framed the house-elves, which was a bit crude.

Later, the reputations of the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord grew, and Voldemort showed signs of losing control.

Riddle used to be a gentle and ambitious man, but later he became a violent and cruel dark wizard who was insidious and cunning but no longer had the wisdom he once had.

Will I be like Voldemort in the future, with myself twisted by the will of others?

"You mean... I should stop absorbing magic power?" Melvin asked tentatively, frowning tightly.

"No, I don't have that idea." Nicolas Flamel spread his hands. "Even a prophet can't fully predict the future. I'm just relaying my experiences and the information I've learned to you. It may be a bit long-winded, but I sincerely hope you can understand the true nature of magic and embark on a path no one has ever walked before."

"I'm sorry to say I can't leave you the Book of Abraham. I only have a limited understanding of how to refine the Philosopher's Stone..." Nicolas Flamel said softly, handing over a notebook. "This contains some of my research, which should be helpful to you."

This was a very plain notebook, bound in kraft paper, with no title on the cover. Melvin simply flipped through two pages. It recorded conversations between Nicolas Flamel and many famous wizards. The contents were all handwritten, and the wizard, who was a scribe, had neat handwriting. There were exquisite illustrations next to it, and even the clothes and accessories of the conversation partners were drawn in bright colors, with gold powder mixed in the ink, making them sparkle.

It looks like it was drawn by Nicolas Flamel's wife and looks like a children's story picture book.

"Paracelsus, Astrology at the End of the Fifteenth Century..."

Melvin raised his head and was about to ask a question, but when he saw the old man's expression, he lowered his voice and carefully put away the notebook on the table.

The six-hundred-year-old wizard sat quietly in a high-backed chair by the window, his silver-white hair hanging down on his shoulders, sparse and neat, his eyes half-open, the sunlight shining through the fine lines on his face, revealing a hint of fatigue.

"That's all, Melvin. I can only help you so far." The old wizard said softly.

Melvin stood up and bowed slightly. "Goodbye, Mr. Flamel."

"I guess we won't see each other again."

"..."

"It was just a joke." Nicolas Flamel opened his eyes, a faint smile on his lips. "Don't rush to pay your respects to me. Perenelle and I have to go back to deal with the inheritance. I hope to see your mirror in Paris."

"I won't keep you waiting too long." Melvin nodded and turned to leave.

Watching the young professor's back gradually disappear into the distance, Nicolas Flamel slowly sat up and spread out his hands again. A mysterious ancient book emerged in his palms, with brass tightly fitted on the spine. Inside, page after page was filled with ancient, almost extinct text, recording obscure alchemy. Each group consisted of seven pages, each group switching to a different language, and there was no text on the seventh page of each group.

But on page seven of the first set, there was a picture of an Ouroboros wrapped around a wand.

……

Leaving Hogsmeade and walking along the winding path, Melvin walked into the school gate with warthog wings spread out, strolled in the field where the snow had melted, and the cool and moist moisture lingered in his breath.

Looking at the school castle under the blue sky, he had heard the name of Hogwarts in the future, and he had seen what the castle looked like in the past, with towering towers, dense forests beside it, and rolling hills in the distance.

He walked in the wet field, walking out of the history of six hundred years ago with the memories of thirty years later. He felt light and mysterious, like a raven hovering above the long river of history. Looking back, he saw Nicolas Flamel copying letters six hundred years ago, and looking forward, he saw Voldemort turning to ashes five years later.

Several towers were lit with fires from their fireplaces, and the blue skyline melted into the firelight. There was also a fire in the window of the gamekeeper's cabin, and in the distance was a wide lake, and the sunlight reflected on the water, making the waves sparkle.

Those legendary wizards who have only been read in books are like the light on the ripples, pushed and dragged by the waves and water waves, constantly rippling along the predetermined trajectory, rushing towards the distant future.

After Nicolas Flamel finished his story in the morning, he took a sip of the butterbeer. The Three Broomsticks' butterbeer had a lot of foam and a salty-sweet taste. Nicolas Flamel drank it for a long time, not leaving a single drop. He sat at the table and talked with Melvin, with yellow hops staining his robe.

Melvin watched him drink, and saw that he was even more emaciated and shriveled than the Hand of Glory, with beer foam on his clothes, like a yellowed history book eaten by insects.

Nicolas Flamel said he was afraid of death, but when he said he only had two years to live, there was no fear or sadness in his eyes, just like when he talked about his neighbors who died in the plague.

After receiving the gift from the Horned Water Serpent, he accidentally opened up this path. Before he could confirm it, he was warned... Melvin thought about where his future lay, thought about Nicolas Flamel, thought about the Horned Water Serpent, and secretly looked forward to the notes in the notebook.

"Emotions and will, soul and magic..."

Melvin murmured softly, "It's more like faith and God."

At this time, the bushes not far away began to shake.

"Professor Lewynter?" Hermione's voice came from behind the bushes.

"It's so cold outside, why don't you stay in the castle?" Melvin stopped and asked.

"..." The little witch remained expressionless, but her eyes could not help but start to move, secretly glancing at the professor's expression.

It must be admitted that Melvin left a very good impression on students. As a foreign professor, he would not favor any one college, did not care whether Gryffindor lost points, was tolerant and patient with students, and most importantly, had a relatively open-minded attitude towards school rules.

Hermione forced out a sweet smile and said in a flattering tone, "Professor, you and Hagrid are friends, right?"

Melvin couldn't help laughing and glanced at Hagrid's hut. In fact, he already knew that there was a Norwegian Spinosaurus egg hidden in the fire in that hut.

Chapter 77 No Conversation Record Found Yet

Melvin lowered his eyes and looked at her with a faint smile.

"..."

Why is it that Professor Lewynter's gaze is as oppressive as Professor McGonagall's?

The little witch felt a little guilty under his gaze, but she was still unwilling to give up. She said weakly, "Professor, my mother told me that friends should help each other, especially when they encounter difficulties."

Melvin shook his head, slowed down his pace and continued walking towards the castle. "Hermione, remember at the beginning of last semester? You were always instructing them on spellcasting techniques in class, and as a result, you had a lot of conflicts with your classmates."

Hermione said nothing, and hesitated for a moment before saying, "You mean I made the same mistake? But I think Hagrid's matter is different from learning spells..."

She had discovered the dragon egg on the night of their last Forbidden Forest patrol, but she had never had the chance to discuss it with Hagrid. Two days later, the Quirrell incident happened and Harry was in a coma in the hospital. Hagrid cried every time, so she didn't dare to bring it up again.

Harry woke up two days ago, and they took advantage of the weekend to visit Hagrid's hut, and Hermione then revealed the matter of the dragon eggs.

But Hagrid only had eyes for the dragon eggs and he thought of himself as the dragon's mother. Harry had just been discharged from the hospital and his head was full of pumpkin juice, so he sided with Hagrid without thinking. Ron was completely clueless and said that hatching dragons was cool.

The dragon was going to hatch next week, and what could she do but watch Hagrid make a mistake and get expelled from school?

"There won't be any trouble at school that could endanger anyone's safety, at least not in the next few months. The centaurs will help handle matters in the Forbidden Forest. If Hagrid really encounters trouble he can't handle, he can ask Dumbledore for help. Excluding the above situations, the rest is a private matter."

Melvin rubbed her head and said to Hermione, "Whether you discovered it yourself or Hagrid told you, the fact that you know the inside story is a sign that he trusts you, so you shouldn't leak the news to anyone else, not even me."

Hermione looked thoughtful, then tilted her head slightly to look at the professor: "I asked in advance if you were friends."

"If Hagrid really needs my help, he should ask for it himself," Melvin said, glancing down and silently quickening his pace.

The little witch's hair was already fluffy and slightly curly, and after ruffling it a few times, it became even more unbearable to look at. It was as messy as an owl's nest.

"..."

Hermione lowered her head in thought, and looked up again after a few minutes. Her eyes followed Melvin's figure walking towards the hall, her lips tightly pursed.

Melvin went straight back to the castle without any psychological burden. Hogwarts even trained the Dark Lord, and there was a basilisk hibernating in the castle's secret chamber. Hatching a fire dragon was nothing.

Melvin refused to believe that Dumbledore knew nothing about this.

He suspected that the old headmaster might want to take this opportunity to teach the gamekeeper a lesson. Professor Kettleburn was missing limbs and was old. He would retire next year. The position of Care of Magical Creatures could not be left vacant. Hagrid was a ready-made successor.

This half-giant has been exposed to magical animals since he was a child, worked as a gamekeeper for decades, and lived with the animals in the forest for decades, so he is capable enough.

It's just that my character still needs to be polished.

When he was in school, he hatched a giant eight-eyed spider in the cupboard, and now he hatches a fire dragon in the cabin. If he doesn't suffer any losses, who knows what kind of trouble he will cause after taking over as professor.

The code of conduct for employees is something the principal should be concerned about. Since the principal has not taken any action, and I am just an elective course professor, why should I worry so much about it?

As I walked into the castle, the fire in the hall's fireplace was burning brightly, and the warm air washed away the coldness on my body.

It was a chilly February, and walking outside felt even colder than during a heavy snowfall. The castle was like two completely different worlds. Melvin strolled up the stairs, occasionally bumping into students from elective classes. He greeted them with a smile, and when he met fifth or seventh graders, he reminded them that the exams were in ten weeks and urged them to study hard.

Turning the corner on the second floor, he ran into the Vice-Principal coming down from upstairs. Melvin greeted him with a smile, "Professor McGonagall, are you dealing with financial statements again?"

"..."

Professor McGonagall, holding a stack of parchment documents, gave him a dignified look. Noticing the wetness on his shoulder and trouser legs, she knew he had returned from outside. "Are you free next week? Come with me to Hogsmeade to settle this quarter's bills and buy some supplies for Easter."

"Good professor."

"The temperature has been changing rapidly recently. Please remember to remind students to add or remove clothing in class to avoid getting sick. Seasonal flu is easily contagious.

"Good professor."

Melvin said goodbye to the vice principal, returned to his office, and sat down behind his desk.

His room was relatively tidy, most of his belongings stored in a suitcase. He didn't assign much written work to his students, and there wasn't much to review. His desk was clean, and in the wastebasket were crumpled drafts of scripts. On a shelf against the wall sat a small mirror, a silver mist swirling inside.

The Headmaster's Pensieve has been returned.

Melvin poured a cup of hot tea and sat down, opening the notebook of Nicolas Flamel. Suddenly, white steam rose in the room.

"On April 04.24, 1527, Paracelsus came to Basel to give lectures. I went to visit him. This young alchemist was highly skilled and preferred human alchemy. Influenced by the ideas of ancient Roman sorcerers, he firmly believed in the theory of the three elements. After I showed him the Philosopher's Stone, he insisted that its magic power came from sulfur, mercury, and salt..."

Paracelsus was a famous alchemist in the 16th century. At that time, the Statute of Secrecy had not yet been enacted. This wizard was also well-known in the Muggle world and left behind many legends.

This page records the conversation between the two, accompanied by an illustration showing the Swiss alchemist performing a spell on a necrotic leg. The leg was charcoal black, oozing with thick yellow and white fluid, as if cursed or poisoned. Perhaps due to limited space, Nicolas Flamel did not depict the owner of the necrotic leg.

The lines are smooth, the illustrations are exquisite, the mineral dyes have strong colors and have not faded after hundreds of years, but that's all.

There is no magical fluctuation in the image, and the characters in the painting do not move, always maintaining the same posture.

There is no definite conclusion in the text. Nicolaë neither confirmed nor denied Paracelsus's views, and there was no personal comment at all. He just recorded them briefly and accurately.

Melvin pondered Paracelsus's theory of the three elements. Few medieval wizards still adhered to the ancient magical views. As early as the time of Nicolas Flamel, these ideas had become outdated, but it must be admitted that the ancient wizards who grew up with these ideas were extremely powerful.

Unfortunately, this theory seems to have no connection with external emotional magic.

Melvin carefully observed the image next to it and slowly turned the page without much urgency in his heart.

When Melvin heard Nicolas Flamel reveal the truth about magic and will, he was indeed briefly panicked, but as he sorted out his thoughts, he soon discovered the differences between himself and those legendary wizards.

Whether it is the Big Four, Merlin or Herpo, the above wizards passively absorbed external magic power when they were young. They seemed to be born with this ability. For a long time after becoming famous, they did not notice the abnormal growth of magic power. It was not until they were affected by external will in their later years that they discovered the clues.

Melvin himself does not have the talent to absorb external magic power. After receiving the gift from the long-horned water snake, he noticed the external magic power in a very short time, and began to consciously spread the influence and absorb the magic power.

The whole experience was so clear that Melvin was sure his sense of self hadn't been affected, at least not yet.

The road ahead is unclear, but we can't just stand back and move forward.

After reading the dialogues of the four alchemists in succession, Melvin put down his notes, took a breath, waved his hand, summoned the mirror in front of him, and continued his editing work.

The main body of the film was almost finished, with only some details left to be considered, such as whether the last part of the story should be cut, and whether Voldemort should be revealed in the film... He was worried about causing panic and irritating the sensitive nerves of the Ministry of Magic.

……

The snow gradually melts, the cold begins to subside, and the weather gradually warms up.

Late February.

in the office.