A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 55: You're Blocking My Path...

The entire world was left with only three shades: black, white, and gray.

Rita Skeeter's body stiffened as she struggled to look at Felix Harp tapping his fingers on the tabletop, the fingers fair and slender, nails a healthy pale pink—the only color within her field of vision.

With each tap of his fingers, concentric rings of black and gray ripples bloomed from his fingertips, rippling through both their bodies and silently expanding in all directions.

"You—" the woman said haltingly, her wand in her hand, yet she couldn't raise it even a fraction of an inch.

"You see, occasionally I adopt this perspective to observe the world, to observe magic. It's quite fascinating," Felix explained, his demeanor unwavering from start to finish.

However, Rita Skeeter didn't share the same sentiment.

"What you're doing... it's illegal... Azkaban..." she managed to say, each word a struggle.

"Rita, dear Rita, you don't think I'd do something unpleasant to you, do you?" Felix chuckled. "Just now I asked, do you truly understand me?"

"Clearly, you don't."

"Did a colleague of yours advise you against crossing me? I bet it was a Slytherin."

Rita Skeeter's gaze remained locked onto him.

Calmly, Felix continued, "When I was in fifth year, I took the holiday time to visit a few stubborn pure-blood families. After that, they never brought up any topics concerning me in public."

"Do you know why?"

Her eyes widened.

"Did you think—I needed to rely on someone's influence to counter the threat of extreme pure-blood families? No, Rita," he whispered, "I merely showed them a possibility."

As Felix's emotions fluctuated, the world rapidly transformed from white and gray to an ink-like, oppressive darkness.

Rita Skeeter's body trembled lightly.

"Yes, a possibility. If I were to become the Dark Lord..." he didn't continue.

The darkness quickly receded, returning to sharp black and white, like an old faded photograph.

"Think about it, I'm quite reasonable. As long as you don't provoke me, I have no interest in bothering you. But sadly—"

"You're blocking my path..."

Ignoring her, Felix beckoned the parchment on the table, casually perusing its contents.

Unbeknownst to him, the parchment had filled with content, stretching a foot long. This left him somewhat amused; if the young wizards at Hogwarts possessed this creative skill, they'd undoubtedly burst into laughter just dreaming about it.

"Tsk, tsk!"

"This part is a bit much."

"Did I say that?"

"Maintain a close relationship with Dumbledore, who, me?" he shook his head.

Colors gradually returned to the room, a magical transformation akin to a child finding a faded photograph in an old storage space and using crayons to color it in.

The world once again teemed with vitality.

Rita Skeeter discovered that she had regained her ability to move.

She glanced at the wand in her hand, then at Felix Harp, who was still reading the parchment. Her eyes kept darting around.

But she quickly dismissed the foolish idea.

"Have you made up your mind? Are you going to take action? Perhaps this is an opportunity. Capture me, and then the story that follows will be yours to weave," Felix looked up, his light blue eyes fixed on her.

"You jest, Felix, no, Professor Harp, Sir—" Rita Skeeter kept changing her address.

"Heh."

He lightly tossed the parchment in his hand, and it turned into ashes without a sound.

"About the purpose of my visit—"

"I apologize! I will cease all false statements!" she quickly said, wearing a pleasing smile on her face.

"Thank you, Rita."

Felix stood up, gave a slight, polite bow, then pushed open the door, disappearing into the night.

The sky was completely dark now, and the north wind blew snowflakes, causing his robe to rustle. Felix took two steps into the wind and snow, and in the next moment, he vanished from the spot.

After a while, Rita Skeeter quietly opened the door, looked around, saw nothing outside, and quickly closed the door.

A stream of malicious curses spewed from her mouth, almost using the harshest words she had ever known in her life to curse someone.

"Felix Harp!" she shouted the name fiercely.

"I'll get back at him! Retribution... his secrets... yes, that's right, that damned... he doesn't even know I'm Animagus, maybe... no, too risky."

After cursing for a long time, Rita Skeeter's mouth felt dry, and she finally stopped.

She went to the drinks cabinet, wanting to grab a bottle of alcohol to quench her thirst. However, as her fingers touched the handle, the exquisite silver piece turned to sand in her hand.

Rita Skeeter froze in place.

She tentatively extended a sturdy finger and tapped a purple-necked jug—it was her favorite decanter. But in the next second, the decanter rapidly disintegrated into sand, including the liquor it held.

Her eyes turned fearful. Her body stumbled and bumped into a chair behind her. Then she noticed that the chair, too, was scattering into the ground, turning into a pile of sand.

Rita Skeeter surveyed her surroundings. Her house—every inch of it was steadily transforming into sand, including her delicate picture frames and crocodile skin handbag.

Even the floor couldn't escape.

"Ah, ah, ah!"

In terror, she ran out of the house. Under her gaze, the entire standalone house teetered, a sand vortex rising from its base, slowly and resolutely swallowing it.

"This is a lesson," a voice sounded very abruptly in Rita Skeeter's mind.

Her lips trembled, as if she wanted to say something, but this time, she quickly closed her mouth.

At the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Felix's figure suddenly appeared. Facing the wind and snow, step by step, he made his way toward the castle. December weather was bitterly cold, especially with gusts of wind carrying blizzards; each step was a severe test.

As he glimpsed the outline of the castle, a thought was triggered. He shook his head; he really had a short memory.

Felix pushed open the dark brown door, shook off the snowflakes, and entered the warm castle.

With a gentle wave of his wand, the door behind him closed with a "thud," shutting out the wind, snow, and darkness outside.

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