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

“How do you know that?” Harry asked that question for Hermione.

“Er… it’s like this,” Ron said, wincing as if he’d been stung by a Billywig insect, “I think Collins mentioned it to me at the Ball– -”

“You think?” Hermione and Harry blurted out in unison.

“I–I wasn’t listening, it was too loud,” Ron said, shrugging his shoulders in an attempt to lighten the serious mood, “It just came to me all of a sudden when Hermione said something about putting the piece in something. ”

Hermione looked furious, and Harry couldn’t help but look at Ron sympathetically. Well, at that moment, the door of the ward was pushed open from outside.

Neville walked in. “Hi Harry, Ron, how are you, oh, Hermione you’re here too … I heard some rumours from the Prefect, the rumours are particularly bad … but when you guys didn’t come back last night, I knew it must have something to do with you, and I thought you should need this …”

He held up two sets of clothes bulge in his hands as he walked closer, then his eyes went wide with astonishment when he stared at a shattered golden egg in his sight, unable to speak.

“Thanks, you arrived at the perfect time, we needed an outfit to wear.” Harry said thankfully, as he walked up and picked up the dress, “Er – make yourself comfortable, Neville, don’t crush the golden egg pieces, we’re not sure if we need to put them back together again.”

Hermione’s mouth puffed out, and she pulled the only useful shard away, “I’ll see you in the library.” As she dashed out of the ward in a flash.

Meanwhile, Harry and Ron took off their pyjamas and began to get dressed. Neville sat nervously on Ron’s bed, his eyes fixed straight on the shards, which looked like they had been treated very roughly, “So, it’s true?”

” What true?” Harry asked, pulling a jumper over his head.

“I heard from Lee Jordan that Professor Moody was actually a dark wizard who disguised himself in order to steal your golden egg, so you and Ron fought him off last night …”

Harry and Ron paused and looked at each other. Harry, one sleeve still hanging down as he said firmly, “It’s all bollocks except the first one, which is true.”

Ron finished dressing, and patted Neville’s shoulder as he said, “Mate, the real Professor Moody is in the intensive care ward not far from here, so you can ask him, maybe he is aware of something!” Upon seeing Neville’s impressed expression, he immediately stammered, “I’m just kidding, don’t ask …”

Neville shook his head, “I won’t ask. But I want to visit him, he has treated me quite well, remember? He gave me that book, ‘Magical Mediterranean Water-Plants and Their Properties’.”

“What if it was from that Death Eater?” Ron guessed, “Listen to me, Neville. Moody fell victim to the dark lord this time, he and that Death Eater took turns giving us lessons, which is why the professors didn’t even discover a thing. Now no one is sure which class was given to us by the real Moody–” With that, he suddenly clapped his hands heavily and yelled, “Damn it! I told you right, in what world professor would dare to cast an unforgivable curse on us?”

Neville looked stunned, not expecting this to involve the Dark Lord and Death Eaters in any way.

After Ron vented and quieted down, he said with an expectant tone, “Hopefully Professor Moody will be nicer to us in the new term, but it’s hard to say … he won’t necessarily be back.”

Then he can join, Harry’s heart suddenly thumped, if Professor Moody can not give them classes next semester, then the school will have to find them a new teacher, even if it is temporary, like Professor Belby in the second year.

But then he thought about the curse that Ron had mentioned to him. But Professor Belby is still fine,… he tried to convince himself, but what if? He dreaded to think what would happen if Sirius had an accident, although for the first thirteen years of his life he hadn’t known he had a godfather, hadn’t even heard of him, but he found he couldn’t live without him anymore.

Harry couldn’t decide for a moment whether to tell Sirius. There was something he actually wanted to tell him, his godfather was so bored, besides practicing magic and playing chess with the elder members of the muggle community, the rest of his entire mind is on him, Sirius should have a life of his own, like getting a job, or starting a family or something …

“Harry, Harry!” Ron shouted in his ear.

“Oh – what?” Harry looked up as both Ron and Neville looked at him.

Ron shrugged, “Help me persuade Neville, he still wants to visit that bomb … What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Harry said quickly, “I mean – of course, I agree.”

“You agree?” Ron’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, we should visit Professor Moody, he doesn’t seem to have any relatives.” Harry said in mock relief, deciding to put the matter off and make an impromptu call if Sirius asked.

…

At the entrance of the castle’s great hall, Draco Malfoy leaned against the oak door in boredom, holding a green gift-wrapping ribbon in his hand. Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy gathered around him.

“Didn’t you sign up for the stay-at-school application?”

Draco’s nose wrinkled, “I’m not sure, Dad asked for it out of the blue, and spoke to Professor Snape in advance.” He glanced occasionally in the direction of the great hall looking back at his father who had come over to pick him up this morning and met Professor Hap on the way, after which he had been excused to the side.

He waved the ribbon in his hand – which had been pulled from the gift box – he always had the feeling that his father had looked at him with a mixed look of anger when he came over, but he hadn’t done anything big lately, so he should have been misreading it.

“… Yes, the mark was particularly strong that night … and dimmed after that, just like a dozen years ago.” Lucius Malfoy whispered, taking the opportunity to swap his cane, as his two gray eyes glanced around without being obvious.

“I see.” Felix said.

Lucius nodded slightly, took two steps back, and raised his voice: “You should mind your own business.” He turned to leave, with an icy smile on his face, as he walked over to Draco, his son looked at him with a worried look on his face.

“Dad, what’s wrong, you guys-”

“Didn’t I tell you not to touch what you shouldn’t touch?” Lucius became angry at the sight of his son, but some things cannot be said explicitly, especially when it comes to the two things, the diary of the Dark Lord and the agreement with Hap, so he could only find fault with other things.

“There are three champions at your age, why not you?”

Draco felt wronged, “Dad, that’s because they used some method to cheat!”

Lucius gave him an angled look, exchanged his cane to his right hand, and pulled Draco away with his left hand.

Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy who were left behind watched their backs, when Pansy hesitantly asked, “Uncle Malfoy looks angry, and Draco hasn’t gotten into any trouble lately, right?”

She looked at Crabbe and Goyle with suspicion, “Did you get into trouble?”

The two shook their heads in a hurry.

At that moment, Felix came over with a newspaper, so the three greeted him and left in a hurry. Felix walked out of the castle and stood on the marble steps. At the end of his sight, he could still see the Malfoy father and son, Lucius saying something to Draco, who seemed very unconvinced.

Welcoming the winter sun, Felix flipped the newspaper in his hand, the headline featuring the animated Dark Mark very conspicuously. The headline on the paper, written in the blood-red text –

Death Eaters still on the loose? Or Dark Lord making a comeback?

‘It is reported that Barty Crouch, who is the director of the Department of International Magical Co-operation and recently been in charge of two major international events (Quidditch World Cup and Tournament of Champions), was attacked by unknown people at his own house last night, and the site was left with an utter mess, Crouch went missing and his old house was reduced to rubble.

The most shocking thing was that the dark mark was displayed high in midair at the site. All the Ministry of Magic staff who arrived at the scene were rendered speechless, and a rough-looking, stern-faced female official sat on the floor in fear; when a reporter went up to interview the hysterical official, no useful information was obtained, instead, we were subjected to unwarranted insults. The reporter later learned that the female official had been demoted for not doing her job well and trying to dispatch dementors to cover up a scandal at the Ministry of Magic, a matter which involved the older brother of a dark hero who had silently resisted the Dark Lord during the war, details of which can be found in Chapter 7 of Rita Skeeter’s new book “Against the Black Terror” a special correspondent of this newspaper … …

No one who lived through the horrors of that war will ever forget what the Dark Mark represents, but now, fourteen years after the death of the Dark Lord and the end of the war; we have won the Quidditch World Cup for the first time in almost thirty years, and have managed to successfully commence a tournament out of history and give it new life, to the delight of the people; now once again we are forced to reflect: are we really free from the shadow of war? Or perhaps this is just a call for another war?

Unfortunately, the Ministry of Magic has not performed as well as it should have in this emergency, the Ministry of Magic has been ignorant or careless about the old followers of a certain wizard Who Must Not Be Named, and devoted much of its energy to the insignificant cooperation regarding potions, and has become complacent – I can almost assert that the Ministry of Magic Ministry would certainly suffer great despair.

As of this publication, the latest information available to our reporter is that Barty Crouch Sr. has survived and is being treated in secret, and the young official representing the Ministry of Magic refuses to say anything more than how the Minister is occupied with a huge workload and is replacing Mr. Crouch to finish a huge backlog of business.

For a detailed history of Barty Crouch’s tenure, see page four of this newspaper, which contains a detailed description. Finally, if you want to know more about a certain man – Who Must Not Be Named – and his evil gang, check out our reporter Rita Skeeter’s new book, ” Against the Black Terror,” which will be available for signing on January 1 at Flourish and Blotts Bookshop, you can also order it via owl mail at …’

“That’s it, the rest is all rubbish.” Hermione said as she looked up from the paper.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, and froze for quite a while, Ron suddenly gasped as he burst out laughing, “She, she doesn’t know that man is still alive, does she? Otherwise, she would never be that bold to write about the You-Know-Who …”

Harry and Hermione also laughed, they both knew what kind of person Rita Skeeter is.

At the moment, they are sitting at a table by the window in the library, with two large stacks of books placed near the aisle, as a way of blocking the sharp eyes of Mrs. Pince, the librarian, as Harry also used a not-so-skilled Quietening Charm to keep their voices from getting too loud.

Ron laughed so hard he stumbled, slumped over the table, and slammed his fist on it. “Ouch … against the black terror … I think she’s playing with fire.” After he had laughed enough, he said in a serious tone, “Shall we write an anonymous letter to remind her.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows, “We can’t reveal … you know, we promised Headmaster Dumbledore.”

“Well,” Ron said regretfully, “I guess she won’t believe it, instead she will treat us as rumour-mongers and throw the letter in the trash … Maybe Dumbledore has already told Fudge about it. ”

“It’s possible.” Hermione nodded, agreeing with him.

Harry took the paper and turned to page four, and sure enough, he saw the brief history of Mr. Barty Crouch, which is very detailed and even included his family, making it even more convenient for Harry.

“Look here, guys,” he said, pointing at a small line: ” Barty Crouch originally had a promising future and was the closest person to the post of Minister of Magic, but because of the emergence of a Death Eater in his family, his reputation plummeted, and he was transferred to the Department of International Magical Co-operation as the head of the Department, and within a few years later, not only did his son died in Azkaban, even the wife who has been in poor health also passed away not long after …”

Ron and Hermione looked at him in surprise and Harry said, “Yeah, we all know who Voldemort’s spy is, the problem is … he’s dead in the official records.”

“This could, this could be incredible, could it be Barty Crouch …,” Ron looked at the two meaningfully.

“You’re saying he’s using his power for personal gain?” Hermione said pointedly.

Thinking carefully for a moment, they could not think of any other possibility, the most crucial thing is what Ron said, “That’s his son.” In the end, they had to think that Barty Crouch had pulled some kind of trick to deceive Azkaban and change the official records.

They had mixed feelings about Barty Crouch, who is lying in the hospital wing. On one hand, he is a victim, but on the other hand, he might have trampled the law at the back and let go of a criminal Death Eater who used him as his biggest backer to plot for his former master’s comeback.

Hermione saw the atmosphere become serious, so she pulled out a piece of parchment from the book “The Fifth Element Controversy” and handed it to Harry and Ron.

Harry looked at what looked like a poem in his hand and read the first line: “Come seek us, where our voices sound – what is this?”

“A Clue from the Golden Egg.” Hermione said briefly.

Harry and Ron’s eyes widened, and they put their heads together to read the following from it.

‘Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you’re searching remember this;

Purple for strength.

Blue for wisdom.

Gold for growth.

Seize the moment, the crisis is everywhere.

Weigh them carefully, the choice is inevitable.

When gold overflows.

You will see each other.

Return rich and full.’

Harry and Ron took a deep breath and stared at the contents blankly.

“My gut tells me that the second task will be difficult.” Ron said pessimistically.

Harry felt the same way, so he tried to decipher what is written on it: “Well – look for them, at the place where their voice sounds, it is impossible to sing on the ground. So, the second task is in the water? The Black Lake?”

Hermione nodded cheerfully, “That’s what I thought. Go on, let’s compare our ideas.”

“Uh, and then the next sentence, apparently it’s for us to find something, I think it’s three things or three kinds of things?” Harry looked at Hermione hesitantly, but Hermione pursed her lips and smiled, not giving anything away.

“Well, whatever it is, they’re distinct anyway, divided into strength, wisdom, and … growth? I guess it’s some sort of test. The two sentences after that are just a reminder to be careful, and it involves a choice, it’s weird … the gold overflows at the end, and we’ll see each other, which means we have to separate? Only if we meet this condition, we can see each other again?”

Harry’s eyes widened as he deduced this clue, and the three pairs of eyes looked at each other.

Ron let out a whine.

At that moment, a silver, tiny rainbird passed through the library window and landed lightly in front of them, the Patronus opened its mouth and from it, Professor Hap’s voice heard –

“Harry, tonight at eight o’clock, come to my office – just you.”

————

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