The Old Ones of Hogwarts

Chapter 44: In Memory of the Deceased Professor

perhaps.

In the girl's heart.

Accomplices have a relationship that is closer than that of friends.

No family tradition could surpass this.

"This person has suddenly disappeared in the town, and I'm afraid the Aurors will be attracted soon." Ian remembered that the wizards on the street had said that fighting in a bar could also attract Aurors.

To these police officers in the wizarding world, they are like informants everywhere; they may not know what's happening, but they can always sense that something is going on.

Could the wizarding world also have a third eye?

Something like a trail?

"Kraft will handle everything."

Aurora helped Ian fasten the top of the wooden box. She seemed to be used to this kind of thing, handling the entire process of murder and dismemberment with practiced ease.

"That's good."

Ian was still somewhat uneasy, but there was clearly nothing he could do. From the moment he stepped into the bookstore, he was inevitably drawn into this situation.

Blame it on today being an unlucky day.

He didn't eat his meal for two more minutes at home, didn't poop for two more minutes... It's too late to say anything now, and the sensitive identity of the Wu family orphan is shrouded in another layer of gloom.

"Were you using Fiery Blaze just now?"

As Ian watched Aurora first clean the floor with water, and then destroy the broom and mop along with it, he felt he needed some solace.

"You want to learn?"

Aurora seemed to see right through Ian's thoughts. This didn't require much insight, after all, Ian's somewhat gleaming eyes were filled with curiosity and longing for Fiendfire.

"Yes, is it easy to lose control?"

Ian remembered that in the original story, one of Malfoy's henchmen played with fire and got burned. This magic was terrifying, probably far more dangerous than the magic he had tried to enhance last night.

"It's in the book I gave you; my grandfather's explanations were always very detailed." Aurora walked back behind the counter and sat down in the backless chair.

"I don't think it should be difficult for you."

She acted as if nothing had happened, and picked up the magic script notebook again to read it.

"Thank you, I'll look it up when I get back."

Ian couldn't wait to make his escape.

"Please remember to take my trash with you."

Aurora didn't look up; her attention was back on her notes. The trash she was referring to was clearly the box left behind, with even traces of corpse ashes around the edges.

"You really know how to order people around."

Ian was reluctant to flaunt such a dangerous item in public.

"I haven't been given permission to leave this store yet, is that a request?" Aurora asked from behind the counter, her voice tinged with helplessness.

"Okay, I guess I'm happy to help my friends, but you'll have to give me something in return next time."

Ian looked around and found a piece of burlap to wrap the wooden box. After checking that no ashes would leak out, he picked up the tightly wrapped box and walked towards the front door.

"He is an accomplice."

The girl then offered another earnest and serious reminder.

"..."

Ian had a feeling that this was a name that was very close to Azkaban, so he quickly stepped out of the dark wizard's lair and breathed in the air outside the bookstore that was free of the smell of burning.

Ian has arrived.

He left again.

They arrived with a brand-new box of books brimming with knowledge.

When he left, he was carrying an urn containing the ashes of a dead person.

The box is still the same box.

The only change is that the nature of the box's use has changed slightly.

On the way back.

Ian was a little nervous. Fortunately, no idle wizards stopped him for questioning; only the wizard chess player who set up a stall on the street to swindle money greeted him warmly.

The start of the school year is approaching.

Many unfamiliar faces appeared in Hogsmeade. Perhaps it was not as prosperous as Diagon Alley, but it was still one of the few places where English wizards gathered.

It has a long history.

Inheriting ancient traditions.

On his way back, Ian even saw several young couples who were already attracted to each other, and he, like the other wizards along the way, was not surprised by it.

Although it's the wizarding world, it's still England, and as everyone knows, England has always been known as a miniature Chengdu.

"professor."

Good morning, professor.

……

Along the way.

Ian also saw several wizards who were clearly adults greeting a woman who was shopping in the village. He recognized the woman as a teacher at Hogwarts.

The headmaster of Gryffindor.

Minerva McGonagall.

She was Hogwarts' Transfiguration teacher. I wonder why she would come to Hogsmeade to buy things. Perhaps this professor also has a house in Hogsmeade?

It's like Snape's cabin.

"You even have a child now? Crybaby Henry."

"Richard, I heard you've passed your Auror exam. Congratulations."

"Daisy, the story of you turning your wand into a pig's trotter is still my favorite story to tell in class."

……

Professor McGonagall seemed to remember every student who had ever graduated, regardless of whether they came from Gryffindor or not. She could accurately call out each one's name and recall their embarrassing moments.

perhaps.

Only by having a genuine passion for one's profession can one truly cherish every moment of their career.

"It doesn't seem as strict as in the movies, maybe because we're not in school right now." Ian only saw this scene from afar.

Holding the urn containing the ashes of someone destined for prison, how could he dare approach a professor with keen insight? The wisest choice, of course, was to bypass these Hogwarts predecessors and take another path.

It's definitely not okay to just throw away the urn; if someone digs it up, that would be a huge problem. Maybe you could plant it in the garden, but there's no guarantee that Snape won't find it in the future.

Pour it into the river?

If someone witnesses it, that would be troublesome.

"It seems the methods of our ancestors are still the most reliable!"

Back to the cabin.

Ian pried open the newly laid floorboards, dug up the living room that Snape had filled in, and buried the entire wooden box, along with the ashes of the dead, in the ground beneath the cabin.

"The space here is really big; burying another ten or eight people wouldn't be a problem at all."

Ian covered the soil again, nailed the wooden planks in the living room back on, and compared the layout with the previous one. He didn't notice anything unusual, so he breathed a sigh of relief and started filling his stomach with crucible cakes.

They ate and drank their fill.

Ian retrieved the hidden copy of "The Secrets of Cutting-Edge Black Magic" from the toilet tank.

"I'm still too weak!"

Actually, before today.

Ian was still somewhat smug. After all, it was impossible for someone so young to possess the truth of Avada Kedavra without feeling a little smug.

however.

The silent Fiery Curse cast by his peers made him realize that the world is not lacking in geniuses, nor is it lacking in conflicts that escalate into brawls at the slightest disagreement.

Only the strong can survive.

The weak are destined to be buried in their boxes.

Not wanting to cause trouble doesn't mean trouble won't come knocking on your door.

"In this cruel wizarding world, I feel like I'm walking on thin ice!"

Recalling the adult wizard who was burned alive before, Ian understood that only by working harder to improve himself could he gain enough security.

"The great man was right; a peaceful and stable life only exists within the reach of the Avada Kedavra lightning chain..."

The book is opened.

Under the glow of the magic wand.

Forbidden knowledge is being revealed in the budding of ideals.