A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Late into the night, the village of Hogsmeade quieted, and Felix stirred.

He rose from his chair, took a step forward, appearing atop a massive stone amidst the hills of Hogwarts. The night forest whistled, unknown beasts howled. Felix turned, gazing at the large cave in the rocky wall where a figure lurked, blending into the darkness with a hood.

The wizard unveiled his hood, revealing the pale, gaunt face of Lucius Malfoy.

Felix observed Malfoy's expression intently for a while before softly inquiring, "Has Voldemort lost his temper?"

"Caught by a few piercing hexes," Lucius forced nonchalance into his tone. "It's the best outcome. I nearly blew my cover. That would've been the end of everything."

"What excuse did you use to cover it up?" Felix asked curiously. "Honestly, you're a bit more resolute than I imagined. Ten hours have passed since I relayed the message to you. I've been waiting for your call for help or a decision to relocate your family."

Lucius Malfoy glared at him fiercely.

"I know the diary is crucial to him. He entrusted it to me for safekeeping, waiting for his command to act... Tonight, I told him about my unwavering loyalty. I mentioned hearing news that sounded like the master three years ago, but he never showed up. So, I gritted my teeth and sent the diary he entrusted to me to Hogwarts, hoping news of the Chamber being opened would catch his attention."

Felix speculated about Voldemort's mindset.

By that time, Voldemort had already created multiple Horcruxes. In comparison to the life-preserving value of the Horcruxes themselves, he saw the diary more as a weapon.

From the information Lucius revealed, it seemed to involve an incomplete plan. Perhaps Voldemort intended to use the diary Horcrux to open the Chamber, kill a few students, seize the opportunity to bring down Dumbledore, and infiltrate this ancient magical school.

This matter was perfect for Lucius Malfoy, who was then the governor of Hogwarts. However, timing had to be incredibly precise. Hence, after Voldemort handed the diary to Malfoy, he was instructed to return home and wait for further orders. Then... well, not long after that, Voldemort disappeared.

"Voldemort summoned you alone?"

"Yes..."

"Did he also summon Bellatrix?"

Lucius was taken aback. "Yes, exactly. We were summoned together." He paused, then added, "I didn't notice until you mentioned it. He's been secretive during this time, summoning followers individually. Rarely have others been present..."

Felix nodded. "You were probably the first, Bellatrix the second. It seems Voldemort will be busy tonight. Of course, his temper will worsen... Lucius?"

Lucius stared at him.

"If Voldemort summons you again in the next two days, pack your bags and run. But if he holds back, you might be able to stay."

"Why?"

"Because I can't guarantee he won't take his frustration out on you," Felix said softly.

In the following two days, many wizards attending the Ancient Runes Symposium left early. Most of these were tourists, merely seeking to witness the birth and evolution of a new field of study, but what happened at the venue far exceeded their psychological limits, leading them to choose departure out of sheer dread.

Over 200 unclaimed tents re-registered at the Ministry of Magic.

However, more people chose to stay.

Their thoughts were straightforward. They had witnessed a thrilling battle. Frankly, considering Dumbledore's reputation, they were mentally prepared—he had over half a century of fame. From the scene at that time, Dumbledore lived up to his title as the "greatest white wizard."

Surprisingly, Felix Harp.

He had garnered a certain level of fame in many countries previously, but people knew him through different avenues. Some knew him from his books, others from the 'Future World' company, and some because of the chaos at the Quidditch World Cup finals camp. But if asked for an accurate description, they'd be at a loss. Was he a Muggle studies expert? A successful businessman? An Ancient Runes professor? Or a memory healing expert? They would argue among themselves about it.

It wasn't until the end of this Ancient Runes Symposium that wizards from around the world had a unified understanding of Felix Harp: he stood on the same level as Dumbledore.

When the journalists attending the event sent news back to their countries, everyone was stunned. Consequently, people rushed over incessantly, seeking firsthand information.

Historians, Ministry workers from various countries, journalists from newspapers and magazines, the Anti-Dark Arts Alliance, members of the Alchemical Association, all applied for entry. Soon, they hurried to Hogsmeade. First, they toured the burnt area outside the village, taking photos. Then, they listened to Felix Harp's own explanations of ancient runes and randomly interviewed anyone available to learn about the two thrilling battles.

Before this, the newspapers in the British wizarding world had erupted.

The journalists and photographers who had arrived on the first day were incredibly busy. Besides developing photos, they had to rush ten articles each. Rita Skeeter once again displayed her immensely professional fabrication skills. She could churn out a vivid, sensational article in just fifteen minutes, but her writing style was increasingly inclined towards sensationalism.

The new editor-in-chief of the Prophet was exasperated.

"Listen to this, 'Three People Atop the World'—how could they include Voldemort?" Hermione read the headline with disgust in the library.

"In a way, she's not entirely wrong," Ron said with a peculiar expression. "I remember another headline: 'The Power of Love Resurrects the Boy Who Lived.' Quite something."

Harry awkwardly turned away; he didn't know how to explain his relationship with Ginny. To say they were close, well, they hadn't spoken much since the school year started, except for their time on the front lines. But to say they were distant... Harry's mind raced, recalling the kiss in the training area at the Black house.

"Is Mafalda bothering you again?" Ron asked.

"What?" Harry followed his gaze and indeed spotted Mafalda hiding behind a stack of thick books. She resembled a younger version of Hermione, but Harry could vouch that, except for academic competitiveness, Mafalda surpassed Hermione in other aspects—such as an unhealthy curiosity and a vengeful nature.

"Another Rita Skeeter," Ron remarked.

"Aren't they all the same?" Hermione retorted.

At that moment, Harry saw Draco Malfoy, looking unwell, entering the library, sitting alone, lost in thought.

"What's wrong with him?" Harry asked, as he hadn't seen Malfoy these past few days.

"He's apparently sick. Lee Jordan saw him in the hospital wing while stopping a nosebleed," Ron said vaguely. Harry instantly understood that Lee Jordan must have risked using the Weasley twins' new and quick-acting Skiversweets. He remembered one candy named 'Nosebleed Nougat.'

Ron seemed to forget his initial purpose of bothering Harry. He leaned in, lowering his voice. "Probably to cover up his absence from school," he gave Hermione a significant look. "Professor Harp made us swear not to reveal what happened there, or else he'd magically

seal our mouths."

"The professor didn't say that!" Hermione protested in frustration.

"Well, it's my guess," Ron shrugged. "But he did seem serious."

This time, Hermione didn't argue.

Harry looked at the distracted Draco, feeling conflicted. He had adhered to the agreement, not telling Ron and Hermione the truth about the diary Horcrux. It made Harry feel a subtle shift in his relationship with Malfoy. Whether it had improved or worsened, Harry couldn't say. But it seemed like Malfoy had once again vanished in crucial matters.

Once when he willingly handed over the diary Horcrux and again during the battle at Hogsmeade.

Both times, Professor Harp was involved...

Draco lifted his head from the table, revealing pronounced dark circles under his eyes. When he noticed Harry, he quickly averted his gaze.

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