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

Chapter 713: Guessing

From the beginning of the school year until now, Harry felt his attention seemed to have been broken into six or seven parts – Quidditch, Dumbledore’s biography, Head Boy duties, clubs … The difficulty of the seventh-year curriculum had also increased over time, and the professors seemed to be waiting for this moment, intending to stuff all kinds of advanced magical knowledge into their heads.

In the Charms Class, the excited short professor Flitwick shouted in an exaggerated tone.

“I want to teach you guys all kinds of useful spells, but I’m afraid your barren little brains won’t be able to keep them all!”

The students below looked at each other with a blank expressions.

“But don’t worry,” he said with a smirk, standing over a stack of thick books that were stacked up as usual. “I will teach you something much more practical, something closer to the essence of a spell … such as the reserving spell, which allows you to launch two very different spells at once; and how to analyse and construct an unknown spell, which will certainly come in handy if you plan to invent one later; or other advanced spell casting skills, such as the sequence of different spells effect on the same target and how to reduce the interference … and so on.”

The crowd was not spared in the Potions class either. Harry felt as if he was back in the first year – after the failure to make a Boil-Cure Potion in the first class, Snape had trained them for weeks on the most basic potion techniques –

The students in the advanced class had to do their best to meet Professor Slughorn’s different requirements in each lesson, such as “using rose petals and toadstool to reduce the toxicity of wolfsbane aconite” and “how to maximize the effects of a potion with limited ingredients” …

Even Emmeline Vance, who has newly taken over the position of professor of transfiguration class, after familiarizing herself with the teaching task, has given her students new requirements: the seventh-year students should try to combine the theory of transfiguration with various complex types of models to synthesize them based on the continued study of the transformation of materials and properties. After that she transformed a feather into a bird, then the bird’s long beak flattened, the feathers fell off, and black fluffy fur grew out as it turned into a Niffler. The students were amazed.

“It is just a matter of physical appearance.” Emmeline Vance said, “My takeaway is not to stick to the previously learned transfiguration image, and figure out what results you want to attain with it.”

Snape’s attitude, on the other hand, is the most uncomfortable for students.

Even if he switched to his favourite subject, his attitude has not changed much. In the recent Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Snape flipped the textbook with a clatter till the end, and the students traced his movements with their eyes, guessing which part they were going to learn, but when Snape reached the end, he simply tossed the book aside.

“Today’s class would be an out-of-syllabus topic, and this lesson will not be part of the test at all.” His dark eyes swept through the classroom, “This means that this class will not be very helpful to those who just want to get their N.E.W.Ts certificate, those who don’t want to listen or don’t understand it can come back next week.”

No one left voluntarily. Although everyone was irritated and had a feeling of being belittled. They secretly braced themselves to respond in kind. As a result, the students walked out of the classroom one by one with their heads down, apparently, none of them were able to meet Snape’s requirements.

“You know what’s really irritating?” Dean yelled indignantly, “He actually suggested for me to use my free time to do something else … like swim in Black Lake or something.”

“That’s not surprising,” Seamus said, stifling a laugh, “you almost hit him with your Hair Loss Curse. Think about it-”

“But the seventh-year classes are truly valuable, with a dazzling variety of defensive and dueling spells with advanced applications,” Daphne Greengrass quipped excitedly, “You just can’t think about using ‘Freezing Charm’ like that normally, it was like stopping time of opponent’s spell, how amazing …”

On the afternoon of the last day of September, Hermione walked out of her dorm room with a box in her arms and sat opposite of Harry and Ron. The two stared at the box with rapt attention, and Harry looked uncertainly and said, “Hermione, is it possible that there’s some kind of badge in it?”

“-and it doesn’t have mockable acronyms written on it, right?” Ron added.

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

“Of course not!” She opened the cover of the box and emptied out the contents, a thick stack of newspaper clippings immediately piled up like a small mountain on the table. Harry and Ron moved over to look at the pile. “These are the ones I’ve collected over the past month of school, and now I have to reorganize them.”

“Are you going to sort them as you did over the summer?” Harry asked.

“Hmm.” Hermione said.

“Any idea what’s going on?” Harry asked as he and Ron rummaged through the table, picking out what they were interested to read.

Since school had started, the summer newspaper cutting work was gone, and the other students subscribed to one or two newspapers at most, except for Hermione – she ordered every newspaper and magazine she could get hold of, one by one. Every other week, the Grangers would send her a package containing as many Muggle newspapers as they could get their hands on.

“The news is always lagging behind, but there is still some useful information to be gleaned, and I must say the changes are happening every day.” Hermione said as she looked down and sorted, “Especially after the publication of the book “Enabling the Exposure of Magic” …”

“I know that without even reading it,” Ron grumbled, “the whole world is changing, only Professor Binns’ class stays the same.”

Harry’s eyes stopped on a small newspaper clipping, and he looked down to read what was on it.

‘The location selected for the new wizarding town is situated in Cornwall, and it will be called Rutherford. Two hundred wizards have already moved there, and it is known that Rutherford is adjacent to another wizard-muggle mixed settlement – known as Tinworth village, with the construction of the new town, the surrounding wizards will have more options …’

Tinworth … Harry stared at the name blankly, then he abruptly asked Ron: “What was the name of the place where Bill and Fleur finally settled?”

“Shell Cottage.” Ron said casually.

“No, I mean the exact location.”

“Oh, I think it is on a cliffside by the sea in Cornwall,” Ron showed a reminiscent expression, “Bill wrote to me to inform me – on the outskirts of a village called… . What was it called?”

“Tinworth.” Harry said with certainty.

“That’s right, that’s the one.”

Harry nodded and continued to read the neatly printed font on the newspaper clipping, ‘Rutherford will be the second all-wizard settlement in England, the first being the Hogsmeade village, and those involved in building the town including twenty-four workers and fifty-seven wizarding families have chosen to settle here, thanks to their contributions… …’

Harry saw Longbottom’s family name on a long list of names.

The second news article featured in the Daily Prophet was a reprint of an interview from a Muggle newspaper in which a seemingly well-connected guy criticized the idea of doing business with wizards, saying that wizards should be banned from dealing with certain industries … Harry put down the clipping, accustomed to seeing this kind of opposition pop up every now and then, and reached for another small, palm-sized piece of newspaper.

The piece of newspaper was printed in small, compact letters about Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the United States receiving twelve children with magical talent, all of them were not old enough to go to school, the oldest being only ten years old and the youngest being only six. Harry read about how these children had been forced to take special drugs and required to cooperate with various experiments before getting rescued, and he was stunned for a moment before continuing to read the following paragraph, the second of which stated where they came from – ‘the descendants of the scourers. The Scourers had once despicably betrayed their own kind, choosing to intermarry with Muggles to avoid punishment and abandoning any children who showed magical talent … These people were ultimately punished.’

A surge of both anger and relief rose up in Harry’s heart, followed by a vague whim popping into his head, but it was cut short before it could take shape.

“Hey! Hear this,” Ron exclaimed excitedly, “this Muggle newspaper praised Dumbledore for deterring two generations of Dark lords by himself, and they mentioned that now it’s Professor Hap’s turn to take the baton, and they’re curious who’s the strongest wizard-”

Hermione grunted sarcastically, “They just want Grindelwald and the Professor to fight.”

“I’m kinda curious too,” Ron read the news with interest, “they call Dumbledore the Sword Bearer, that’s a cool title, but he was holding a wand, not a sword … not sure though, maybe they were referring to Gryffindor sword?” He gestured in the air with one hand, pretending to hold a sharp goblin sword.

“How’s the biography coming along?” Hermione looked over at Harry, putting a stack of newspaper clippings in a small binder.

“It’ll take a few months at least to finish,” Harry muttered, “Mr. Doge is very demanding.”

Hermione shrugged, and received small clippings of newspapers from Harry, which she skimmed over as she glanced down, before sighing, “I hope these children will receive proper medical attention.” But then her gaze froze, the sympathy in her eyes replaced by alarm.

“No, it shouldn’t, it can’t be …” she muttered to herself as she stared at the tabletop.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked.

Hermione held her breath and asked quietly, “Do you think … these children, they were the first ones? Is it just them? Will there be more people-”

“What first ones?” Ron asked, stopping his movements.

Harry’s eyes snapped wide open. The vague notion that had just been looming in his head became clear all of a sudden, but he preferred that it wasn’t true.

“You mean there were others before them who might be brought under the control of the local government-” Harry couldn’t bring himself to say another word, his expression turned grave, this speculation is too awful.

Ron looked left and right, and snatched the clipping out of Hermione’s hand as he read it quickly. His face gradually became pale and terrified as he combined it with what he heard. But he immediately thought of something, “I think – it probably isn’t as you think, Ilvermorny has similar magic like Hogwarts, any young wizard who shows magical talent will be recorded – well, these twelve children are just not old enough to use magic to leave enough traces.”

Harry and Hermione froze for a moment, Ron’s words seemed to make sense, and they couldn’t find a loophole for the moment. The two breathed a sigh of relief. After organizing the newspaper clippings, Hermione took out a book, “Enabling the Exposure of Magic” from her beaded pouch, but she seemed distracted for a long time, and she didn’t even have an appetite for supper.

Eventually, Harry proposed to visit Hagrid, and Ron and Hermione had no problem with it; when they stepped out of the castle and stood knocking at the door of Hagrid’s hut for ten minutes without getting a response. They know there is no one inside. “Hagrid is not at home, probably went to patrol the forbidden forest.” Harry said, “How strange, obviously the lights are on.”

“Or maybe he took Grawp for a walk – either way, we came for nothing.” Ron said with a frown.

They could only head back, and Harry turned back several times but did not see Hagrid, or a figure more massive than Hagrid.

“Let’s come back tomorrow, Harry.” Hermione advised.

“Don’t forget to bring the Marauder’s Map, so we don’t have to worry about not being able to find them.” Ron suggested.

“Good idea,” Harry said: “But there is no need to carry it with us, we can just make sure that Hagrid is at home before we visit, my copy of the Marauder’s Map can’t reach the depths of the Forbidden Forest – what’s wrong with you, Hermione? ”

Hermione suddenly stopped in her tracks, her eyes went wide with terror in them.

“The Marau … Marauder’s Map… can’t spot …,” she exclaimed, springing to her feet. “Oh, I suddenly thought of something very important – but it’s best to make sure of it first, I’ll find you guys later.” Without waiting for Harry to raise a question, she ran into the entrance hall in a flash.

“What did she thought of?” Ron asked, in bewilderment.

“I don’t know,” a shadow clouded Harry’s mind as he thought of those American scourers and all other heavy topics they had discussed during the day, but what could the spotting and the Marauder’s Map have reminded Hermione of? “Come on, let’s follow!”

They ran towards the stairs, but even after climbing five floors in a row, there was no sign of Hermione. “She probably went to the library.” They turned back again and searched the library for a while under Mrs. Pince’s sharp eyes, but they still didn’t find her. The two were forced to return to the common room and wait for Hermione to return on her own.

On the other hand –

Hermione came to the Ancient Runes office, which was similarly locked, and apparently, the Professor had not returned to school even at this late hour, and she hesitated for a while, unsure of what to do. At that moment a strange ringing sound issued from her, and she took out a glowing sneakoscope from her beaded pouch.

“Is that Valen?” Hermione’s eyes lit up, if Valen is back, the professor must be here too.

She took the Seeker – no, the Niffler Sneakoscope- and walked down the grand staircase, and soon returned to the entrance hall. She stayed in front of the House point hourglasses for a moment to identify the direction, and then walked down the underground passage with an odd look on her face, could they be in Professor Snape’s office?

With this thought in mind, Hermione followed the stone steps to a spacious underground corridor, which was brightly lit on both sides, with vividly coloured portraits hanging on the walls and the occasional Hufflepuff student or two talking behind the pillars – this was not the way to the original Potions Professor’s office.

“…”

Hermione’s face became even more odd, “Well, it is not impossible.” Finally, she stopped in front of a painting of a huge silver bowl filled with fruit. She took a deep breath, stretched out her index finger, and gently tickled the large blue-green pear. The pear squirmed and turned into a green handle.

Hermione pushed open the door – the Hogwarts kitchen is inside – and her eyes swept across the spacious, neat room, which is as big as the great hall, with four long dining tables identical to the one in the Great Hall, and she walked quickly past it to where the kitchen really is.

Hermione found the target at once. Originally her heart was filled with unease and dread, but now she actually wants to laugh a little. Felix was sitting on a small round stool, the kind that house elves usually sit on, with his hands on his knees and his eyes fixed on the huge fireplace. He was surrounded by dozens of house elves. She took a few steps forward, and she spotted a small black furry figure through the gap between the elves. It was Valen, who was also sitting on a small stool, hugging her knees and staring at the fireplace with glowing eyes.

An enticing scent filled the air.

“Gulp.” Hermione couldn’t help but gulp, she hadn’t eaten anything all night.

Felix turned over on his side on the stool, revealing a dozen or so roasted fish constantly spinning and sizzling in the fireplace, and his eyes flashed with surprise.

“Granger? What a coincidence to run into you here – uh, I haven’t had a chance to eat dinner yet, you -” he scrutinized Hermione’s face, “you came to find food too, right? ”

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