A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 204: Correspondence and Research

Chapter 204: Correspondence and Research

Ron leaned over to look at the parchment, surprised, and said, "Why is my dad's name on here?"

On the parchment, the names of James Potter and Sirius Black occupied the center, branching out to various related individuals from their names. For example, James led to Harry, and from Harry, various sources of information emerged, like "Mr. Weasley," "Minister Fudge," and "Professor Lupin."

Harry explained, "Before we got on the train, Mr. Weasley warned me about Sirius and made me promise not to seek him out. He must know more."

"Should I write a letter to my dad?" Ron asked hesitantly, clearly nervous.

"I think—"

"Potter! Come over here," Professor McGonagall entered from outside, motioning to Harry.

The two of them spoke quietly in the corner, Harry's voice growing more excited.

After a while, he returned, placing a disillusionment charm on the table and using a quill to add a new name to the parchment: "Professor McGonagall."

"She knows too, but treats me like a child," he said with frustration.

Hermione looked at the tiny disillusionment charm and suddenly said, "This was made by Professor Snape, commissioned by Dumbledore. It contains a strand of Sirius Black's hair."

She had promised Professor Snape not to reveal this earlier, but since the charm was already in Harry's hands, there was no need to hide it anymore.

Harry chuckled in exasperation, "So, everyone is trying to keep me in the dark?"

"Don't be that way, Harry. They have their reasons. But we can also investigate the past ourselves, can't we?" Hermione said.

Ron widened his eyes, "Do you even know what you're saying, Hermione?"

"This is important, Ron. We might be able to glean valuable information from it. Like what kind of magic Sirius Black was skilled in. In case we cross paths, it's better to know something rather than nothing." Hermione assigned tasks with confidence, "Ron, write to your dad, and Harry, focus on Professor Lupin."

"What about you?" Ron asked sensitively.

"I'll ask Professor Snape if he knows anything. But chances are slim; he was already out of Hogwarts when Harry's father attended." Hermione counted on her fingers, "Oh, and there's Hagrid. Remember? The night Malfoy got hurt, we went to comfort Hagrid, and he ended up kicking us out."

Ron nodded approvingly, "That's a good move. Hagrid is a blabbermouth; he'll spill the beans."

Harry suddenly reminded them, "Snape definitely knows as well. He hated my dad and probably Professor Lupin too. Maybe we could—"

"That's a good idea. Let's go ask him—'Dear Professor Snape, were you ever beaten to a pulp by someone named James Potter when you were in school? We're interested in learning about one of his friends...'" Harry was left speechless.

Neville walked in, holding a letter in his hand. He looked around and approached the trio.

"Grandmother's letter, addressed to Professor Snape. I don't know if I should give it to him," Neville's round face showed hesitation.

...

Felix Harp saw this letter the next day. In front of Neville, he opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.

Neville stared at him, unblinking. "What did she say?"

"She's inviting me to Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop this weekend for a conversation," Felix Harp smiled.

Neville swallowed nervously, "C-Can I come along? It's about me, isn't it?" He managed to get out the script Harry, Ron, and Hermione had prepared for him the day before.

"Oh, no, you can't. You're not allowed in Hogsmeade yet."

...

"You agreed just like that? Without putting up a fight?" Harry exclaimed, eyes wide.

"I, I..." Neville stammered, "I think Professor Harp made a valid point. I'm really not allowed in Hogsmeade Village."

"You could have asked him to take you along; he's a professor!"

"I didn't think of that at the time..." Neville scratched the back of his head.

Harry stewed in his frustration.

Meanwhile, Felix Harp was engrossed in observing a glass jar.

Three days had passed, and the acromantulas inside were now the size of walnuts.

"I know you can understand me, Mr. Acromantula," Felix Harp said.

"Wizard, what do you want?" the acromantula growled, its massive pincers clicking menacingly.

"A lot of things, but I need your cooperation."

"Impossible, wizard, you cannot insult me." It snapped, waving its pincers angrily.

If it had maintained its original size, this would probably have been quite intimidating.

Felix Harp smiled, "I should remind you, you attacked me first. I spared you because you're still useful. If that changes..."

The acromantula grew nervous, recalling the fear of being tormented (shrunken) by this wizard, "So, you'll let me go?"

"If you're satisfactory, why not? Do you look appetizing to me?"

"Fine, I agree." It quickly changed its tune.

"Next, I will use magic to gradually stimulate you, aiding your recovery. You must describe the corresponding sensations. Understand?"

"...Understood."

In Felix Harp's view, a blue magic resided within the acromantula, appearing highly organized, like chains obstructing its body's restoration. Yet, this magic was dissipating at an excruciatingly slow rate.

After all, this magic was a finite resource, and the acromantula was inherently magical, containing its own magic and struggling to shed the constraints on its body.

As the process progressed, its speed accelerated. From the data collected over the past three days, the transformation took place between 5 to 8 days.

'If I could have my magic automatically absorb free magic, could I maintain existence indefinitely?' Felix Harp speculated, though it was entirely unrealistic. At least, currently, he couldn't even touch a shadow.

Felix Harp carefully probed. The blue magic remained stable, seemingly disinterested in its former master. Instead of using a resizing spell to undo the magic, he infused his magic into the acromantula, helping it resist and erode the blue chains.

Threads of blue mist emerged from the acromantula's body. Soon, it had shrunk to the size of a watermelon. But it didn't dare move, letting Felix Harp prod and poke.

Every few minutes, Felix Harp would inquire about its sensations.

"How does it feel?"

"I feel nothing."

After a while—

"Now?"

"It's like stepping into a den from sunlight. My body feels much more comfortable." The acromantula favored cold and damp environments.

"It was uncomfortable before?"

"The transformation process was painful, extremely disorienting. But after a while, I couldn't feel it anymore. I thought that's how I'd remain." The acromantula spoke.

Felix Harp looked at it in mild astonishment. He knew acromantulas could communicate in human language, but he didn't expect them to express themselves so clearly.

"Do you guys chat in English and hold tea parties? Or did Aragog teach you?" Felix Harp asked curiously.

"I don't know what you're saying. It's Aragog who taught us," the acromantula replied.

Felix Harp understood somewhat. Wild acromantulas definitely lacked this ability. Being linked to Aragog, who was raised by Hagrid, made all the difference.

This led him to some new thoughts—perhaps he could domesticate them?

When he delicately broached this idea to Hagrid, the latter burst into laughter, "Hogwarts is already doing that! I visit every month or so to check on Aragog. He's quite old; he might not have much time left. I also extract some venom from the acromantulas—it's good stuff, and a portion of the school's expenses come from it. But Aragog never lets me take too much; he's concerned about his descendants' hunting needs..."

Felix Harp stared at Hagrid in astonishment; this was completely different from what he'd imagined.

Hagrid cheerfully added, "Finally, there's something you didn't know, Felix. Most of the intelligent creatures in the Forbidden Forest maintain connections with Hogwarts. Dumbledore assigned me this responsibility."

"Like unicorns; I bring them some herbs and remedies. They don't mind me taking a bit of their hair. The good stuff is taken by Ollivander, what's left isn't very useful. I use it to make pads, rags, and such. Very practical..."

"Or the centaurs; they act as a barrier for the Forbidden Forest, alerting me if werewolves, giants, or dangerous creatures approach. If they encounter something they can't handle, they inform me. They're skilled healers, different from wizards, but they're useful sometimes. As for centaur divination, that's not my expertise..."

"Plants are the same. Professor Sprout scatters seeds into the Forbidden Forest every year."

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