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

Chapter 545

In the Hogsmeade Village, Felix is talking to a representative of the French Ministry of Magic.

The man, “Giles Fitzgerald”, is very talkative, and if you ignore his regular attempts to smooth out his pathetically thinning hair, the whole conversation was quite pleasant with all the arse kissing.

“I heard that Mr. Hap is also a school board member of Beauxbatons, a talent that Mr. Nicolas Flamel personally identified … He’s picked the right man, Mr. Flamel was always generous, I received a sizeable scholarship when I was at school, he was a really nice guy wasn’t he Myron? ”

Giles turned his head to look at the middle-aged wizard next to him, who is the deputy headmaster of Beauxbatons.

“You’re right.” Myron said firmly, “The loss of Monsieur Flamel is a major loss to the French magical community.”

Giles cleared his throat, “It is, but now we have Mr. Hap, and history always goes around …”

“Yeah.” Deputy Headmaster Myron said briefly.

Felix smiled without saying anything, this conversation took place after Giles cornered him to enquire about his arrangements for the Beauxbatons Scholarship, and when he told them to continue everything, as usual, Giles spent a full ten minutes touting him in a greasy tone, but once Giles realized that Felix had no interest in being touted, he turned his tongue to praise the contribution of Nicolas Flamel in a high note.

Nicolas Flamel left a lot of legacies, but Felix only took the parts that are most useful to him, leaving the rest intact. Including Nicolas’s vault in the Gringotts France branch, which he had only visited once, and it did not contain many alchemical items that deserved his attention.

So when the Gringotts Goblin brought out a thick stack of contracts, he did not choose to annul any of them.

Felix thought it would make him feel good to do so.

“It’s a bit windy today.” Giles muttered, reaching out to brush aside the lock of hair that kept ruffling his nose in front of him.

But soon there is a loud clamour and Felix peered into the distance, and his expression turned serious.

He held out his hand and a small black dot appeared in his palm area, the dot rapidly smudged away like a drop of ink in water, and in the blink of an eye, a book appeared in his hand.

“Mr. Hap?” Giles asked in surprise, looking curiously at the Book of Rune in his hand at the same time.

” We got some trouble, Mr. Giles. Inform the rest of the group to hide for now.” Felix said calmly, as his figure suddenly disappeared and reappeared near the edge of Hogsmeade.

An exaggerated-sized black tornado headed towards the Hogsmeade village, the black tornado uprooted rocks, grass, trees, and everything along its path as the wizards rushed around in disarray.

“Silence.”

Felix heard Amelia Bones’ booming voice say, but it had very little effect; everyone was stunned by the sudden onslaught of the natural disaster, and although the tornado is still some distance away, the howling winds, as well as the raining droplets, have arrived first and splattering down.

“Ministry of Magic Aurors, Hit Wizards, follow me to ward off the storm.” Ms. Bones shouted as the Ministry of Magic crew emerged from one hidden corner or another.

Felix pressed his hand on the Book of Rune and the pages flipped, a dozen milky white balls of light flew out of it and headed straight towards the loud behemoth.

“It’s illumination!”

“Professor Hap is here.”

The black tornado swallowed the balls of light in one gulp, and seconds later, the tornado swelled very rapidly in size that it seemed to roll down the clouds in the sky, as a dazzling pillar of lights stabbed out of the whirling vortex, managing to break it up before it could breach the village.

The black tornado was forced to disperse as a dozen smaller whirlwinds formed from the air pressure and rushed into the village to wreak havoc, followed by rocks and branches falling from high above, and Felix watched as a rock the size of a man’s head smashed a hole in the roof of a shop, and the subsequent mini whirlwind blew the furniture and ornaments inside all over the place, as it looked like some kind of vomiting monster.

Felix was forced to pause after breaking up a few mini whirlwinds. He stood in the scattered air currents and gazed high into the sky as a black-robed wizard appeared in the air, his features blurred and his skin looked pale-white.

His red eyes looked down at the wreckage below as he grinned silently, would a few thousand wizards be useful? I just need to create a little chaos to make them disorganized.

“Come up.” He said with a gesture.

Felix remained motionless, his silver eyes fixed on Voldemort. In Thestral’s perspective, that man’s soul radiated a shiny black light from the inside out and had more than one piece missing, like a rotting pumpkin that had been haphazardly gnawed on and discarded by wild animals.

A thought flashed through Felix’s mind: Voldemort’s soul looked even uglier than his appearance.

He counted several times over and found seven gaps in total.

That meant that Voldemort had made seven Horcruxes … counting the body, and he had split his soul into eight parts.

They had destroyed four of the Horcruxes, the diary, the diadem, the Gaunt ring, and the snake. Three remained: the Slytherin locket in Dumbledore’s possession; Harry, who is half a Horcrux, which is currently impossible to strip; and the last one – the unknown.

Felix’s lips quirked as he relayed this information to Dumbledore who stood somewhere in Hogsmeade. Once this was done, he kicked the stone beneath his feet and leaped into the air, facing Voldemort who stood at a distance.

“I thought a little highly of you, Voldemort,” Felix said, ” Your killing quite indiscriminately for someone who calls himself a ruler.”

” It was just a greeting, would you care if you accidentally hurt an ant or two?” Voldemort said lazily, twirling his snakewood wand in his hand and examining Felix’s silver-gray eyes, his snake-like nostrils flared out excitedly, ” Indeed … you have transformed yourself too, have you chosen the Thestral?”

“Ah,” Felix stated without moving, “it’s a creature with a touch of death after all.”

“But they are too tame, I prefer Basilisk more,” Voldemort commented in a condescending tone, “I had bred a few, but unfortunately none of them grew, probably due to the lack of certain key steps. Then I found I preferred dark magic, and I did some experiments on myself, some successful, some not … This is the price of being at the forefront of the whole magical community, you have to do some trial and error.”

Voldemort enjoyed this pre-battle communication, it is one of his few interests. But there are very few people left in the world with whom he can discuss magic, especially since he has little in common with Dumbledore – who keeps using Transfiguration to greet him and always keeps talking about “the power of love”.

“Why haven’t I seen Dumbledore, have you guys fallen out?” Voldemort said mischievously, his snake-like pupils peering down.

“Isn’t that what you expected? I killed a dozen dark wizards before you showed up, and he probably couldn’t bear to see it and left early.” Felix said.

Voldemort scrutinized his face as if examining the truth of the statement.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, “he’s no longer a match for me.”

“Tch.” Felix smacked his lips.

“You think I’m bluffing?” Voldemort narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t. But it looks like you’ve finally found yourself a proper wand, which is why you dared to show up in the open.” Felix said, and from the beginning, Voldemort kept his wand in the most conspicuous position like he was showing off.

“A wand made by Salazar Slytherin’s own hand and inherited by his most talented descendant.” Voldemort stretched out his hand, the wand in his hand blossomed with a bright emerald green light that hummed and buzzed.

” Well, it certainly suits you perfectly.” Felix said slowly.

After a short exchange, a fierce battle broke out.

…

The Hogsmeade village had fallen into disarray.

Madam Puddifoot ran out of her tattered shop, it looked like a terrible mess, her shop door had been lifted off the ground and at the moment she didn’t know where she could go. Upon seeing Voldemort in midair, she sat down at once, lost in thought, as she said, “It’s true … he’s really back …”

The still calm wizards gathered and worked together to fight the mini whirlwinds that had just been broken up by Felix.

The crew placed in advance by the Ministry of Magic came in handy, and midway through some of the wizards with decent combat skills volunteered to join in, the owner of the Hog’s Head Inn cursed as he smashed a mini whirlwind and looked up to see an old man with the white beard who bore a striking resemblance to him not far away.

“You’re useless.” Aberforth said bluntly.

Dumbledore swung his hand to dispel a whirlwind and listened with his side ear, after a few seconds a complex expression passed through his eyes, surprise, regret, and a mixture of indecision. When he looked up, he found his brother glaring at him with a fierce expression, as if debating whether or not to punch him in the nose.

“Ah, sorry, what did you just say?”

Dumbledore glanced briskly into the distance, the battle had already started, Felix had guided Voldemort outside the village, the sound of the two fighting resonated through the village, black thunder accompanied by dazzling golden flames ploughed the earth over and over again, then the sky showered with spears, gold coins and … is that a cork of butterbeer?

In the corner, a chubby, walrus-mustached wizard probed and peered, smiling awkwardly when he met Dumbledore’s gaze.

…

A large golden-red bird descended from the sky, with a shiny golden tail and a pair of sharp claws of the same colour, a bunch of people dangled on its legs, notably the one towing on its tail, and Fawkes chirped in displeasure, shaking off the guy who had been tugging on its tail feathers all the way.

“Oh my god-”

“Ouch! Don’t squeeze me.”

“Everyone keep quiet and stay alert!”

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville got up from the ground to see Sirius looking around warily with his wand up, “Get your wands out, kids.” The four of them complied, before them there is a mess, debris all over the place, the showcase windows that display the merchandise are broken, as far as the eye can see none of the windows are intact, and the shop sign has been smashed all over by something and a thick layer of dust has been laid on them.

“That’s Gladrags Wizardwear, where’s the door gone?” Ron said, pointing towards the dress shop with an open entrance.

A figure stumbled into the shop, it was Draco Malfoy. He practically rolled and ran into Gladrags Wizardwear.

“What’s wrong with him?” Neville asked in disbelief.

“Probably scared,” Ron said scornfully, “It’s not like anyone begged him to come, he’s the one who grabbed Fawkes’s tail.”

Harry looked at the Gladrags Wizardwear in silence, he suddenly felt cheated.

Malfoy said he supported Professor Hap, but he kept his mouth shut about how, let alone admitting that his father is a Death Eater, and the only valuable information Malfoy had uttered the whole time was his admission that he had handed Professor Hap the diary (Horcrux) personally.

But the thing is, it’s not like Malfoy knew that the diary is a Horcrux.

Now that I think about it, that doesn’t signify anything at all. Maybe he was afraid of being controlled by the diary again and that’s why he voluntarily handed it over, and the choice of the professor was Professor Hap who was also from Slytherin house, and as he said on his own, he didn’t want to get involved in the Chamber of Secrets trouble…

As for whether or not he had considered the safety of the young wizard from a Muggle family in between, only God knows.

“We’re late?” Neville asked, the tension and excitement still lingering on his face, as he regarded this as a formal operation against Voldemort. “The You-Know-Who attacked the place by surprise? But where’s the Professor? Where’s Headmaster Dumbledore? Where is the Ministry of Magic crew?”

There is no one around.

The phoenix tilted its head and cried out, flying straight in one direction.

They glanced at each other.

“Let’s follow!” Sirius stated in a low voice, “Remember, we’re not here to fight, I’ve fought Voldemort and know how terrifying his strength is … We have to regroup with either the Headmaster, Felix, or the Ministry of Magic first and tell them what Harry knows.” He paused briefly for a moment as he continued, “You are all students, but also the most determined warriors, so I want you to grow, and no amount of teaching from me in class is as good as one practice session. So, don’t die.”

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville nodded silently, this truly felt different from the usual dueling lessons.

“Rumble!”

There was a loud noise in the distance as if a mountain had collapsed.

“It’s the direction Fawkes left, the Professor and Headmaster Dumbledore are probably over there too.” Harry said.

They ran quickly, the street littered with debris from buildings and furnishing ornaments from who knows what, books, cages, clothes … They ran over the path of a debris road with alarm, luckily, they didn’t find any bodies.

“There it is!”

In the distance there are dense, hundreds of wizards, it seems everyone in the Hogsmeade village has converged there, and Phoenix Fawkes flew all the way forward, spilling light in the form of tiny stars, and it finally settled on a rusty stand with a tattered wooden sign underneath.

“Hog’s Head Inn.”

They exchanged glances, curious about the place where Fawkes had stopped, as Harry stepped forward and peered through the large broken window, almost choking on the sudden smell of goat, the tables near the door covered in dust, and the floor smeared with greasy stains.

The Hog’s Head Inn is dimly lit and a man can faintly be seen sitting inside, Harry’s mouth dropped open, it’s Headmaster Dumbledore!

What is he doing here? Shouldn’t he be fighting outside? Could it be that Voldemort and Professor Hap are now fighting one-on-one? Headmaster Dumbledore wouldn’t be advocating the idea of a fair fight, would he? Harry’s mind was so jumbled that he didn’t even hear Sirius greet him as he pushed the door open in confusion.

Fawkes, which was standing on a stand, took the opportunity to fly in, circling the room twice, seemingly unable to find a place to land, before eventually landing on Dumbledore’s shoulder.

“Harry? What did you see?” Sirius and the others walked carefully behind, with the help of the faint glow of a few small candle heads, then they saw the only person in the room, “Headmaster Dumbledore?” They shouted incredulously.

“Ah, it’s you all,” Dumbledore said quietly, turning his head to look over his shoulder at Fawkes and saying reproachfully, “You shouldn’t have brought them here.”

Fawkes gave a low chirp.

“Headmaster Dumbledore, we have important information for you,” Harry said eagerly, “Voldemort has acquired the Snakewood Wand of Salazar Slytherin-”

“I know, Minerva told me through the Patronus.” Dumbledore said calmly as he fiddled with his teacup.

“Also – the Headmaster of Ilvermorny was killed by Voldemort.”

“I know that too,” Dumbledore said softly, “Professor Fontaine … he was not supposed to die.”

“I also know how to put the Snakewood Wand back into hibernation using the Parseltongue, I can help with that.” Harry said.

“It might not work, Harry.” Dumbledore interrupted him, his azure eyes examined Harry through the clear lenses, “No.” He repeated, “You don’t own that wand, so it won’t listen to you, especially when it’s held in the hands of its true owner. And it would be too dangerous for you to rush into battle for me to agree.”

Harry stuttered, unable to speak, his initial excitement of seeing Headmaster Dumbledore vanishing all at once.

“Headmaster Dumbledore, you have not joined the battle? Is Professor Hap fighting all alone now then?” Hermione asked anxiously.

“That’s right, Miss Granger.” Dumbledore said calmly, seemingly unaware of the hidden implications of her words.

“But why – allow the Professor to fight alone – the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic – ” Hermione stammered.

“That’s a long story,” Dumbledore’s tone remained calm as he looked down at his empty teacup, “such as the fact that Voldemort did not choose our predetermined battlefield, and the fact that I had previously left … making my reaction probably half a beat slower than usual, as well as the fact that I had to take time out to protect the others after it happened … but what really made me sit here and drink my tea because Felix stopped me.”

“What?” Everyone looked at him in surprise.

“Three people brought me messages today, but only Felix’s message cheered me up the most.” Dumbledore said, “I had to restrain myself … because I knew that we are not ready and the conditions are far from ripe.”

“But if you team up with Professor Hap-” said Harry eagerly.

“That’s the point, defeating or driving Voldemort away isn’t what we want, keeping him around is.” Dumbledore looked at them with a bitter smile, “Felix is out there fighting while I am thinking about countermeasures, about the best time to go out … I know very well that even if Felix and I team up we won’t be able to capture him, we’ll just scare him away. Unless he became more conceited and felt he had the victory in his hands, or-” He hesitated, thinking of the information Felix had told him.

Felix could see the broken soul …

“-or make him become frightened, terrified, and let him reveal his vulnerabilities himself.” He said softly.

The crowd looked at him uncertainly, but Dumbledore had no intention of explaining, and lifted his head as if he suddenly became interested in the ceiling above his head.

After a long while.

Dumbledore made a sudden movement, removing the gloves he had been wearing for nearly two months to reveal his right hand, which immediately changed – losing a little of its moisture, as if an invisible fire had burned the flesh and blood, leaving it both dry and charred, finally resembling a charcoal bar just taken out of a blazing fireplace.

Dumbledore raised his hand and came closer to examine his hand before pulling a black jewelled ring from his pocket with his intact left hand and wearing it.

“Headmaster Dumbledore.” Harry held his breath, “Your hand-”

Is it a disguise? Or is it really injured? Was that why he always wore gloves? His memory became clear; the few times he had shown up since the start of the term, Headmaster Dumbledore had always seemed to be wearing white gloves.

“Now is not the time to talk about it.” Dumbledore shook his head, “Come on, let’s go finish the f