Harry Potter: A Certain Ancient Rune Professor of Hogwarts (TL)

Chapter 601: The Place of Placement (2 in 1)

In the Potions Professor’s office, Harry awoke with a gasp, breathing greedily like a drowning man.

Shadows loomed around him, and Harry seemed to see a hawk-nosed man, but when Hermione helped him put his glasses back on, Snape started to move back and stood not far away. Before he could see the expression on the man’s face, Ron and Hermione pounced on him and hugged him tightly, squeezing him so hard that he couldn’t breathe.

“I’m fa- ahem – fine.” Harry slurred as he struggled to keep himself from being strangled by the two of them.

“Mate, you nearly scared us to death.” Ron said as he patted him on the shoulder and Hermione covered her mouth and sobbed in a low voice.

“I’m fine,” Harry repeated, looking at the tense two, and all of his repressed emotions came back to him in a short amount of time. “The duel is over,” he said with no emotion.

“How did it turn out, Dumbledore won, didn’t he? Have we won?” Ron asked aloud, and Hermione on the left side also looked at him with anticipation.

Harry didn’t know how to answer, he had watched Dumbledore’s comeback victory, but he just couldn’t bring himself to say the word ‘we’ right now, “Yeah, Dumbledore won, the war – the war is over. ”

“Great!” Ron shouted, shaking Harry hard in excitement, “Great!” The tears that had built up in Hermione’s eyes flowed out freely, as she sobbed uncontrollably.

“Potter-” The silent Snape called out hoarsely.

“Dumbledore is still alive, Professor Hap has passed by, and Kreacher was also mentioned – I don’t know why, no one mentioned it to me. And Voldemort, well he got swallowed by a snake, and probably isn’t dead yet.” Harry said under his breath, with his eyes staring elsewhere, “Sorry, I’m a bit messed up in the head at the moment, need to go out, go out and get some fresh air …”

He broke away from Ron’s grasp and stormed out of the office.

Harry walked briskly through the basement corridors, climbing the stairs with a wooden expression, there were excited fifth years standing in twos and threes in the entrance hall, some members of the Magic Rune Club and the Frontline Lookout Club greeted Harry, who nodded stiffly in response, and some less familiar students were pointing at him from the shadows, supposedly discussing his ‘nightmare’ during the last test.

“What the hell did he dream about that he would expect Headmaster Dumbledore to die …”

The chatter from the corner drifted to his ears, but Harry didn’t have the slightest intention of defending himself as he walked straight through the entrance hall, the words of Neville’s loud retort on his behalf still audible in his ears. He walked a few quick steps through the oak doors, the sun was setting over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest, lacing it with a golden-red colour along with curving traces.

He walked aimlessly on the stone steps, he didn’t feel like visiting some specific destination, he was just trying to find something that would keep him occupied and keep him as far away from the others as possible. He went to Black Lake first, but it was already crowded with fifth and seventh years who had finished their tests, so he changed direction and stopped for a moment in front of Hagrid’s hut, where he turned and walked into the forbidden forest without knocking on the door.

He felt a wave of relief as his figure was covered by the dark and dense shadows of the forest.

There could be no one in here. As he went deeper and deeper, the tall, dense trees obscured the faint light from the twilight, and he lay down on a dark, flat stone, his eyes focused on the mottled bright light that penetrated through the thick leaves. It was only then that Harry started to think seriously, he had temporarily pushed Snape aside in his mind and finally realized his mission. The whole point of his existence was to take the initiative and die at the right time, which would sever Voldemort’s last link in the world.

Then there’s that prophecy. Harry mused that it probably prophesized something about him and Voldemort, and he could probably guess what it was about, that the two of them are going to meet their deaths at the same time, or to put it nicely, they are going to die together? He couldn’t help but think of Snape again, the one who had tipped off Voldemort, the one who had told him about the prophecy. He had been an evil Death Eater at that time, and probably kissed Voldemort’s robes with enthusiasm every time they met …

He must have been too proud and complacent at that time to imagine that the prophecy would kill the person he loved so much.

The whole thing was far more complicated than Harry had first thought. His heart thumped at the thought of death and his stomach cramped uncontrollably as if ice cubes had been stuffed into it. His mouth was dry, his throat clogged, and Harry knew it was the fear that gripped him; what was it like to die? He has had multiple experiences of narrowly escaping death, many times he had almost thought he would die, but death did not accept him.

He was dexterous and surprisingly lucky as if some hand in the dark was fiddling with his fate (Harry thought of Dumbledore leafing through the books), telling him it wasn’t time …

But now the time has finally arrived.

Harry had the sudden urge to turn his head and run away. Now that he was in the Forbidden Forest, he could Apparate and destroy his wand afterward and hide in a place where no one would ever find him. He pulled out his own wand and looked down at it. A little time passed and the Forbidden Forest became even darker as if it was already late into the night. Harry was getting more and more anxious, and mentally kept urging himself to make a decision to at least … at least make another trip to Godric’s Hollow and place a bouquet of flowers or something on his parents’ grave.

Otherwise, when Dumbledore got back – Harry thought pessimistically – Dumbledore would probably grab him with a sneer and tell him he wanted to take him somewhere to be with Voldemort. He pictured the scene, the Headmaster’s two hands gripping his shoulders and shaking him hard (somehow he thought of the way Ron had shaken him earlier), Professor Hap and Snape sandwiching him from left to right (they looked like followers, sort of like Crabbe and Goyle) …

But Harry ended up doing nothing, he was just like the students who suddenly decided to let loose after their exams and sneak off to venture into the Forbidden Forest, essentially no different from the students who were having a nap in the shade of the willow trees by the Black Lake. He slowly got off the rock, his legs went a little weak. He looked down at the Phoenix feather Hollywood wand that was still clutched in his hand and seriously pondered to whom he should give it as a memento.

But who would use a second-hand wand? Well, maybe they would, Harry mentally retorted to himself, at least it would be acceptable as a spare wand.

This is an excellent wand.

Harry had the confidence to hold it and fight Voldemort head-on, maybe that would be a better end, dying as he battled like a hero … but Voldemort had been caught, Dumbledore and Professor Hap had managed to finish everything, and there was really only so much he could do.

He thought about Ron and Hermione and wondered what they would feel when they found out. They would probably try to stop that man (Dumbledore) somehow, and Harry could guess their reactions – first, they would be horrified, then Ron would mutter, “There must be another way.” And Hermione would recite the titles of every book she had ever read that had anything remotely related to this matter. Well, that is, if they had a chance to know.

Harry walked slowly towards the castle, making up his mind that – if he had the time – he would ask every single ghost in the castle about how they felt when they had died. He knew at least two of them, Moaning Myrtle, who had been killed by the Basilisk, and Nearly Headless Nick, who had been hacked to death with a rusty axe, and their pain before death was completely incomparable; they were two polar opposites.

“Whoosh!”

Harry jerked his head down, the shield charm forming a barrier rapidly in front of him, and he stared in disbelief at the arrow that was lodged in the ground some distance away, the tail of the arrow still rattling in a flurry. It seemed it was only meant to serve as a warning, then the trees swayed and Harry narrowed his eyes as he heard the thudding of horses’ hooves.

“Bane, that appears to be a student.”

“A foal?” A gruff voice grunted.

A Centaur stepped out from behind a bush, with platinum blonde hair and the body of a silver-maned horse, Harry knew this Centaur, his name is Firenze. Firenze looked at Harry twice and asked with some surprise, “Harry Potter?”

Another Centaur appeared, with black hair and a black body, looking a little fitter and rougher than Firenze. He was holding a bow in his hand, and it was obvious that the arrow stuck in the ground had been shot by him.

“Foal, get out of here.” The black Centaur said grumpily, “Centaurs are not your human babysitters, don’t expect us to follow behind you like mules and offer protection.”

Harry didn’t say anything, he was still angry about the arrow, and for some reason, he was suddenly eager to teach the arrogant-looking Centaur a lesson, probably a result of Hagrid’s recent complaints, “That bunch of stubborn-minded old horses … I don’t mean all of them, a few are still very nice to talk to, but most …” he muttered dismissively, sticking a bone needle that could pass off as a wand into the thick canvas as he sewed Grawp’s trouser.

Or it could simply be that the Centaurs were interrupting his thoughts.

Harry walked back in a sullen mood when the sound of horse hooves sounded behind him and one of them followed. Harry didn’t look back, he wasn’t interested in what the other party was up to. But the fellow called ‘Bane’ shouted, “Remember, Firenze! I may not care if you make friends with that little girl, but don’t say anything you shouldn’t! We swore an oath to never get involved in the messy troubles of the wizards!”

“I never considered saying such a thing,” growled Firenze as the voice seemed to rumble from above Harry’s head, pricking his ears a little, “but I do want to say something now!”

Bane growled in anger and left – Harry’s head ached a little – but when they got some distance away he became a little worried about Firenze’s well-being, as he had heard Hagrid saying that the Centaurs were quite stubborn and grumpy.

“The – um – the little girl was referring to Luna?” As they walked through the woods in silence, Harry found a chance to say something.

“That’s right.” Firenze said briefly, walking side by side with him.

“They stopped you from having contact with Luna?” Harry asked, “You can’t make friends with wizards?”

“That’s not entirely true,” Firenze explained, “Luna … isn’t that old, and that helped her. The Centaurs wouldn’t harm the foals and she …” Firenze thought for a moment before saying, “She got along quite well with all the Centaurs except Bane, especially the girls, who loved the Dirigible Plum earrings and the cork necklaces.”

Harry really didn’t expect Luna to be so ‘well-connected’ and have managed to secure friends in another community.

For some reason, he chimed in, “She can also weave wreaths.”

“Yeah, part of the fancy things she made is actually learned from Centaurs.” Firenze said, and Harry stared, imagining the scene of Luna and the Centaur girl learning how to weave a wreath, and he was surprised by how it didn’t seem out of place.

“So Hagrid-”

“He’s one of the few we can interact with, we like people who are simple-minded and love nature. But it doesn’t seem like it is going to work that well anymore, you know, the elders of the tribe are not happy with his move to settle his brother in the forbidden forest.” Firenze said.

Harry remembered Hagrid’s words that the Forbidden Forest isn’t owned by the Centaurs, and it was just an area allocated by the Ministry of Magic for the Centaurs to live in. But he didn’t say the words on his mind out loud.

They walked to the edge of the Forbidden Forest and Hagrid’s hut could be seen ahead of them, with green smoke billowing out of the chimney.

“Thank you, Firenze.” Harry said.

“You’re welcome, I’ve met many young wizards who have wandered into the Forbidden Forest by mistake, though some of them weren’t really ‘by mistake’.” Firenze said and Harry nodded and took a few steps forward, “Oh, Potter.” Firenze called out to him and Harry turned his head to look at the Centaur.

“Bane doesn’t want us to have any contact with wizards, he’s the radical faction, but I think it’s necessary to keep in touch with wizards appropriately, the Centaurs alone are too weak to stand on their own in the midst of the great ripples and glorious era that about to come. I believe you are an essential link for that.” Firenze said.

Harry’s mood suddenly became gloomy.

“An essential link?” He said in a low, hoarse voice, “I probably can’t help with that … you can approach Professor Hap.”

“We d-don’t trust him.” Firenze said softly.

Harry looked up in surprise as Firenze continued, “To be precise, we don’t trust any adult wizards.” It sounded strange to Harry, he had assumed that Professor Hap had once conflicted with Centaurs.

But when he thought about the criteria for Centaurs to make friends – simple-minded and close to nature – Professor Hap didn’t seem to fall into any of these categories.

Harry returned to the castle with a heavy heart, wondering why Firenze seemed to have unrealistic expectations of him, it was almost dark, and he guessed that the students would be enjoying a meal in the great hall at this time. So he walked into the great hall, the laughter around him seemed irrelevant to him, and he took a seat at the edge of the Gryffindor table, avoiding his acquaintances.

Next to him was an underclassman he didn’t know, but the student clearly knew him, and the young wizard yelped from the back of his throat before sneaking a finger to poke his friend in the ribs.

Harry hastily picked up a slice of pie and stuffed it messily into his mouth.

A few seats were vacant at the Professor’s table, Dumbledore, Professor Hap, Sirius, and Snape were all absent, and the students didn’t notice anything unusual – it wasn’t exactly like the professors would come over on time every day to finish their meals – they were enthusiastically discussing the finished wizard grading exams and final exams, and there had even been some discussion about the summer holidays.

But today is different.

It occurred to Harry as he divided the pie in half with his fork that Voldemort had fallen silently, and if people could see the future they would be amazed at how calmly they had passed this day.

He thought about Firenze’s words again, the great ripples and glorious era that was about to come… could he be lucky enough to witness it? Or did the ‘essential link’ Firenze spoke of actually signify his own death to begin with?

That would indeed be quite important, the wizarding community would henceforth be free from Voldemort’s shadow and could live their lives in peace …

Harry once again glanced hastily at the four empty seats, and then he lowered his head and tiptoed out of the great hall – Ron and Hermione had been very restless at dinner, looking around constantly, and he felt like he had to avoid them, as he hadn’t figured out how to face them yet.

Where had the people who weren’t present gone? Harry wondered on his way back to the common room.

Could it be in some place he didn’t know about – the Headmaster’s office, perhaps, or on a desolate hilltop – where an unusually serious conversation was taking place, with Dumbledore telling Sirius in a heavy voice that Harry is a Horcrux… …

If someone had to inform this to him, he wanted that someone to be Sirius.

Deep in Classroom Seven.

Felix handed Hufflepuff’s golden cup to Dumbledore and then joined him as he looked at the Ouroboros serpent that kept circling in midair.

“… You’ve got a dozen Patronuses all bonded together?” Dumbledore asked with some amazement, “How did you do that?”

“It was indeed difficult and took a lot of time to actually implement this, but I used a clever trick,” Felix said, “I found a commander in chief for them, a spiritual leader.”

“You mean something like Harry’s …”

“Exactly.”

Dumbledore nodded slightly, “Where is Kreacher?”

“I sent him to Sirius, he is deeply bound by the magic of his kind and had only just lost his master, so he is now extremely depressed. Sirius is comforting him.”

Behind them, several Professor’s memory bodies stood, young Felix, young Dumbledore, young McGonagall, and Flitwick as well as Newt Scamander, as they looked at the dark green Patronus in mid-air with grave expressions.

“It’s holding the You-Know-Who in its belly …? Merlin, this is too dangerous, you shouldn’t have brought it into the school.” The young Ms. McGonagall said, clutching her chest, as her whole body shook disturbingly.

“For a certain reason, we need him alive for the time being,” Felix said, “Seriously, Minerva, you couldn’t find a better place than here: with the vast amount of magic flowing through Hogwarts’ defences system, the vast amount of emotions collected in Classroom Seven, and of course, the most vital … is still you guys.”

“But this is not a prison, Albus, and we are not jailers, so I hope you will consider this carefully!” Ms. McGonagall said firmly, “Students come in and out on a daily basis, and if something were to happen-”

“Then we should close this place to the public for time being.” Dumbledore said in a quiet voice.

“Better not, Albus.” Felix interjected, “I need to use it to gather sufficient emotions, an essential step in suppressing Voldemort’s will and sending him into a passive hibernation. I can create a temporary channel in the next room to separate the two.”

“School’s going to be closed in a few days, so on an optimistic view, we might be able to fix this issue during the holidays.”

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