A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 21: The Relics of the Dark Lord Are at Hogwarts!

The Library

Felix Harp was engrossed in his book, his ears oblivious to the world beyond the windows. The events of the previous day's class didn't seem to have affected him, even though he was the direct cause of the uproar.

With his left hand flipping through the pages and his right hand wielding his wand with precise movements, ancient runes appeared and dissipated in the air. Madam Pins, casting watchful glances, had been observing Felix for over half an hour.

Madam Pins was a thin and elderly woman who seemed somewhat malnourished. However, she was well-suited for her role as the librarian due to her deep love for books and keen instincts, always quick to spot and punish any students breaking the rules.

If a student dared to brandish a wand and gesticulate in the library, she would promptly escort them out. But Felix was a professor, which left her somewhat hesitant.

Fortunately, Felix soon left with two books, relieving her of her dilemma.

Returning to his office, Felix took out a piece of chestnut wood from his briefcase. Magic flowed from his wand through the carving knife, etching ancient runes onto the chestnut's surface.

Chestnut wood was a material for crafting wands, but it was neutral in nature, like a blank canvas, and not overly expensive. Felix had unearthed it to practice ancient runes.

The enchanted carving knife left magical symbols on the chestnut's surface. Each time a complete rune was etched, it burst into a searing red light before fading, leaving behind black markings.

Felix's speed in engraving runes was remarkable, causing the chestnut's surface to shimmer incessantly. The carving knife danced through the air, as if he were not engraving runes, but composing an enduring epic.

After a few minutes, Felix filled the surface of the chestnut, and he swept his wand across it, causing a thin layer to peel off and fly to the other side of the table.

He then resumed with the carving knife, continuing to work on the chestnut.

When the chestnut had shrunk by three inches, he paused and stretched. In one corner of the table, thirty thin wooden pieces were stacked, resembling a collection of black ancient runes on pages.

Felix calculated a number in his mind and nodded in satisfaction, "272 runes, that's the power I currently possess."

Leisurely rising, he stood by the window and looked out, convinced that his decision to return to Hogwarts was absolutely right.

This is the life I wanted!

"Swoosh~"

An owl flew in through the window, dropping a letter onto the table.

Felix opened the envelope, his brows furrowing as he read.

It was a letter from an "old friend."

Though only three years had passed since Felix graduated, and he had only been actively adventuring for a year, his rich experiences had broadened his perspective enough to be considered "well-traveled." He could pinpoint the closest magical black market to him even with his eyes closed, no matter where in the world he was.

This letter came from a "friend" he had made in one of these markets.

Felix took out parchment and hastily penned a few lines, arranging to meet this friend at the Hog's Head Inn on Saturday.

As the owl flew away, he pondered the friend's intentions.

He recalled their first meeting.

The man went by the name of Kline, always wearing a hood on his robes that shrouded his face in perpetual mist, making it impossible to discern his true identity.

Kline operated on the principle of fair trade. He had connections to rare magical manuscripts, wondrous potions, magical creatures, and more.

Felix had traded with him seven times, both adhering to the rules of their transactions.

Thus, he was curious about Kline's intentions in seeking him out. Of course, even more intriguing was what kind of inventory this friend had acquired lately.

Saturday morning at ten o'clock.

Felix Harp arrived at the Hog's Head Inn. It was early, and there was only one patron present.

Approaching the table where the patron sat, Felix saw the familiar mist-shrouded face and sat down with a smile. As he settled in, their forms flickered in and out of view, and their voices became entirely sealed off from the outside world.

"Kline."

"Felix." It was a neutral voice, impossible to discern as male or female, or to determine an age.

The wizarding world was no stranger to such enigmatic figures, each with their own reasons. They might be dark wizards, individuals evading enemies, or perhaps just indulging in some peculiar predilections.

"What brings you to me?"

"Information gathering."

"What kind of information?"

"The relics of the Second Dark Lord."

Felix remained silent for a few seconds, his mind working swiftly.

"Alright, but you must tell me your source first."

Kline tapped his finger on the edge of the table, seemingly weighing the decision, but he soon offered a single word, "Vagadu."

"You've consulted that bunch of mad priests?" Felix was somewhat surprised. Vagadu was a magical school in Africa, where wizards had only begun using wands in the 20th century, resulting in their development taking a distinct path from other countries.

For instance, they practiced a branch of prophecy magic known as witch priests, colloquially referred to as mad priests.

This form of prophecy magic was essentially a form of dark magic, with each prophecy extracting a cost—such as the loss of a limb.

Most importantly, these prophecies weren't always accurate...

When Kline mentioned Vagadu, Felix could only think of this, as there was no interaction between Africa and the British Isles.

"Go on," Felix urged. His interest was piqued, as Kline would never resort to amateur witch priests. A skilled witch priest capable of producing prophecies would demand a considerable price.

"The prophecy states that the relics of the Dark Lord will remain at Hogwarts for a year."

A chill ran down Felix's spine. "What specific relic?"

"I'm not sure, only that it's exceedingly malevolent."

Felix was somewhat exasperated. "Malevolent, huh? Do you think you're Voldemort?"

Seemingly detecting Felix's skepticism, Kline added, "The prophecy I sought concerned the secret of the Vanishing of Death."

In an instant, Felix engaged Occlumency, appearing "astonished" as he asked, "Could you repeat that?"

"The Vanishing of Death."

"But the Dark Lord is already dead."

"The prophecy remains."

"You could check for yourself."

"Hogwarts has Dumbledore."

"Are you afraid of him?"

Kline chuckled softly. Although Felix couldn't see the expressions behind Kline's mist, he sensed that the man wasn't in a good mood.

Felix feigned a pensive expression before finally saying, "Thank you for the intel, but I can't promise that I'll obtain the relic. I can only promise that I won't betray you. I'll personally tackle the Dark Lord's secret."

Kline contemplated for a moment and then replied, "Agreed."

They extended their hands, their index fingers touching, and a golden pattern bloomed.

This was a temporary magical contract, valid for a year. There wouldn't be dire consequences if Felix breached it, except that Kline would always know his location!

If you weren't afraid of the retaliation of a mysterious wizard, you could certainly breach the contract.

Many readers might have questions, so let me explain further.

In the agreement, what qualifies as unlocking the Dark Lord's secret?

Touching the diary, having a chat, or even destroying it—all of that doesn't count as research, as it would be meaningless for both parties in the contract.

Who would care about the decibel level of the sound emitted when a Horcrux is destroyed?

The content of the contract, to be direct, revolves around the knowledge of creating Horcruxes. Nothing more.

Changing this would have lost the charm of dialogue in the novel. This was my mindset when writing.

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