A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 76: The Next Legend

Early the next morning, Felix Harp received the research materials he had requested from the Room of Requirement.

He easily located the cabinet Tom had mentioned, the one that was "bubbling on the surface, like it had been splashed with strong acid." Using the Levitation Charm, he moved the cabinet aside and discovered a dusty wooden box hidden behind it.

With a careful wave of his wand and layers of protective enchantments shimmering around him, he used the Unlocking Charm to open the long-sealed box, revealing neatly trimmed parchment sheets stacked within.

No curses, no dark magic, no traps.

This left Felix Harp, fully armed and cautious, somewhat disappointed.

Aside from the overpowering stench emanating from the half-opened cabinet, which forced him to cast a Bubble-Head Charm on himself, the entire process was surprisingly effortless.

Back in his office, Felix Harp eagerly began perusing the contents of the documents.

Honestly, the process was somewhat distressing; the materials contained numerous anatomical diagrams of magical creatures, along with Salazar Slytherin's personal annotations. As Felix brushed his hand over the parchment, he almost seemed to hear the cries of these creatures in their moments before death.

It reminded him of his own experiences delving into dark magic, and it felt as though his heart was submerged in foul-smelling black water, with invisible hands dragging him downward.

Swiftly, Felix applied Occlumency to shield his mind. He endured the discomfort and read through the parchment once.

About an hour later...

"Phew~"

Felix Harp let out a long sigh, his emotions complex at the moment.

From mere fragments of history in his own time, it was hard to grasp the weight of Salazar Slytherin's name. In a way, Felix even began to understand why Tom Riddle, at sixteen or seventeen, had been so fervent and reverent towards Slytherin.

It wasn't just about being a descendant of Slytherin.

Looking at the parchment before him, it was more than a vessel of knowledge. Each piece of parchment contained Salazar Slytherin's thoughts and will when he wrote the materials. It was a kind of calm, even cold rationality, where every magical creature was merely material for study, devoid of any sympathy or pity.

Yet, it was this absolute detachment that made Slytherin's research process incredibly systematic. Each line of text, each composition, held the utmost charm of magic.

Even under the protection of Occlumency, Felix couldn't help but be enchanted and daydream, his heart filled with the desire to follow in Slytherin's footsteps.

It wasn't just the influence of magic; it was the powerful personal charisma radiated by a legendary wizard on the path of magic.

Felix Harp resisted his reluctance and sealed away the materials completely. "That's not my path," he admonished himself.

Before him lay only three parchment sheets, carefully selected to match his needs.

However, Felix didn't immediately begin his study. He stood up, walked to the window, and gazed at the view of Hogwarts in the distance.

His mind was in turmoil.

"Heh! Tom, is this your scheme? Even in the direst circumstances, you can find a way to counterattack," Felix mumbled to himself.

Many books in the magical world carried latent dangers, not everyone was qualified to read them. Just like the Restricted Section at Hogwarts, it contained numerous dangerous books—not only was the knowledge within perilous, but many required a painful price just for reading.

And Tom Riddle's intention was clear. By using the allure of Salazar Slytherin's own magical path, he aimed to influence and assimilate Felix Harp's thoughts.

"I can't defeat you, I can't change you, but I can find a more formidable presence to alter your thoughts."

The winter sunlight was warm without being harsh, the courtyard's snow was white without being blinding, and the cold wind brushing against the towers was chilling without being biting.

Gazing into the distance, he softly said, "Salazar Slytherin..."

"... In a sense, we are taking different paths to the same destination, both pursuing the pinnacle of magic. But I have my own way, and I won't step into your realm just because you've gone farther."

"People all start from being weak. Hundreds of years ago, didn't you also experience confusion about your path, much like how I feel today?"

"Now, in my eyes, you are a steep and treacherous mountain, an unattainable legend. But time is on my side, the future is on my side. One day, I will walk alongside you and eventually surpass you."

Felix Harp remained standing by the window, watching the sun rise and reach its zenith. As its light spread across every corner of Hogwarts, his heart regained its determination.

This morning, Felix didn't ponder any magical questions, yet he felt he had taken a significant step forward in understanding "magic" itself. This "progress" was comprehensive, not embodied in any specific spell, but rather it gave him a sense of clarity.

He knew that the magical theory bottleneck he had been stuck in for so long was finally loosening.

Years of accumulation were now qualifying for a qualitative change in this moment.

Felix Harp waved his wand, and a milky white light radiated from him, illuminating the courtyard below, the distant greenhouses, the snow-covered ground, and even the frozen black lake.

The mottled patterns of swaying bare branches and the shadows of black stones by the lakeside disappeared in this moment.

Beside the main tower of the castle, Dumbledore, with his disheveled beard, held a buzzing Honeydukes candy. Lifting his head, his deep blue eyes, framed by half-moon spectacles, sparkled with a bright light.

"Truly remarkable," he said softly. "Isn't that right, Fawkes?"

A palm-sized phoenix, Fawkes, absentmindedly preened its feathers.

At this very moment, within the walls of Hogwarts School, a myriad of scenes unfolded—

Gilderoy Lockhart slept soundly in his bed, savoring the leisure of the Christmas break;

Professor McGonagall brewed a cup of coffee and perused students' grade sheets;

Professor Flitwick waved his wand, savoring the intricacies of "Charms Analysis";

Professor Sprout tended to mischievous Mandrakes in the warm greenhouse;

Professor Snape, his face twisted in distaste, fiddled with a measuring cup while an illustrated booklet lay nearby;

Hermione Granger stared into the mirror, vexedly tugging at the cat ears on her head;

Luna Lovegood sat in the Ravenclaw common room, engrossed in reading a book of jokes;

...

In the snowy landscape, two young wizards trekked through the snow.

Harry suddenly felt a flash of white light before his eyes. He looked around, but found nothing.

"Did you notice that?" he said to his companion.

"What?" Ron raised his head, distracted.

"Just now, it seemed like a flash of light..."

"Where?" Ron looked around, only to find nothing.

The two continued walking through the snow in the courtyard, heading towards Professor McGonagall's office.

A gust of wind stirred, carrying a few falling leaves and their faint voices—

"Harry, do you think McGonagall will give me an excuse?"

"Definitely, you're doing something serious. You should've gotten a new wand ages ago."

And by a window in a castle tower, Felix Harp calmly sheathed his wand, his eyes free from any confusion.

"The next millennium, I shall be a legend."

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