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

Chapter 621: Tom

Ten minutes passed quickly.

The class bell rang, and the students silently turned their heads and looked at the three professors behind them. It was the first time they had encountered such a situation, where the professor of the class was missing, but many other subject professors were present instead.

Professor McGonagall stood up from the back of the classroom. "Students, you are free to leave. As for the homework-" She pursed her lips tightly, her eyes slightly hesitant under her boxed glasses, clearly reluctant to overstep her bounds, especially when she was not impressed with the lecture.

"You can ask your professor yourselves," Felix interjected, "but it's also a nice idea if you want to keep this mystery until the next class."

Professor McGonagall's protest was instantly drowned out by cheers and the noise of scattered groups, and in almost a blink of an eye, the classroom was a third empty, with several members of the frontline lookout club rushing out ahead of the others with quick, agile movements and impressive skill.

"Oh, uh-" Hermione stood looking at the doorway as if expecting to see the new professor make it back at the last minute, but her roommates Lavender and Parvati dragged her away from left and right.

There was a shout of approval from the corridor.

The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom looked like a mess - the seats were lopsided and pieces of parchments were flying. Professor McGonagall gave Felix a stern look, but it was obvious she had more important things to attend to. She tapped her wand on a piece of scribbled parchment, which folded up automatically and was stuffed into her pocket.

Felix glanced at the parchment, which filled with Grindelwald's out-of-place remarks in class. The Transfiguration professor seemed to be the one who was most prepared, and he reckoned that Professor McGonagall would soon show up in the Headmaster's office with this evidence.

Grindelwald was indeed unruly.

Felix couldn't help but think. All he had to do was change a few words in what he had said, and it would turn into a nice wizard's declaration of war preparations against the Muggles, and the sudden turn from festive celebrations to cold-eyed hostility was a godsend, capturing hearts and emotions quite accurately.

But he also annoyed Dumbledore by doing so. Although his attitude was clearly withdrawn towards the end, none of the four professors who came to the lecture today were fools, and they all could pick up the implied meanings.

When Professor McGonagall's tartan robes disappeared out of sight, Snape's upper lip curled up, and he looked at Felix wistfully.

"You've met your match."

Felix rolled his eyes. "As you said, merely a match. I'm not the only one with whom he's going to have trouble, and he's probably being lectured in the cold breeze right now." He speculated with some malice. Grindelwald's misinterpretation of the original meaning of his book today had certainly earned another mental note in Felix's mind.

In summary, the relationship between the two of them was both good and bad. When it was good, they could talk openly without concern, exchanging in-depth views on the current situation; when it was bad, they naturally denounced each other without any hesitation.

One calls the other naive and irresponsible; the other asks for advice on how the one has lost 100,000 acolytes.

On top of the Astronomy Tower.

It is the highest place in Hogwarts Castle, with a wide view. It is usually only open at night when the students are having their astronomy lessons, and is rarely visited during the day.

Likewise, it is therefore also a good place for conversation.

Dumbledore stood by the wall of the tower, overlooking half of Hogwarts Castle and the Forbidden Forest from the heights. It had rained just yesterday, so the sky was cloudless and bright at the moment, with not a single cloud blocking the view.

Grindelwald stared at his back as if he was wondering how to push Dumbledore off the high ground.

But he simply paced slowly over to him, and his eyes flashed with memories.

Both men had been at their low point when they first met - of course, it was in Godric's Hollow - at a time when Dumbledore's mother had barely passed away and Grindelwald had been expelled from school for his dangerous research on dark magic, which, of course, was probably a good thing for him, because Grindelwald didn't think he would learn anything else from the school, and with only a little bitterness, he hoofed his way to his aunt's retirement house.

There was supposedly a clue to the Deathly Hallows hidden there.

In any case, he intended to search for it. Not to mention that his aunt, Bathilda Bagshot, who wrote the History of Magic, could be of great help to him in terms of information.

But what Grindelwald never expected was that his aunt would introduce him to an equally talented boy named Dumbledore, a recent graduate with a heart full of sorrows with nowhere that he could vent them. They hit it off like fire and pot. Two young men only a year apart, brought together by their dream of a new order in the Wizarding world and by their unparalleled talent. They grew closer every day and finally, in a barn, they made a blood pact to swear 'never to fight each other'.

But this relationship came to an abrupt end at its peak.

Their love-hate relationship has since spanned almost a century, influencing each other at important points in each other's lives, like a pair of inseparable gears, grinding each other's lives apart while marking them with a deep and eternal imprint.

Now, they are both old.

"You brought me here just to see this view?" Grindelwald slowly asked.

"You should know that people have just come out of the shadow of war and peace is hard to come by." Dumbledore said in a calm tone.

The corners of Grindelwald's mouth curled up with a sneer as he stood side by side with Dumbledore, watching with him as students about the size of matchsticks walked across the grounds below, the stone bridge, and the silhouettes flashing past the windows as they passed through the corridors of the castle.

"A false peace. You and I both know that Dumbledore or you wouldn't have allowed me to stay - speaking of that, it was easier to convince you than I thought, I just showed you that vision, and you agreed almost instantly."

Grindelwald tilted his head slightly to look at Dumbledore.

On the Astronomy tower, Dumbledore let out a sigh as he closed his eyes and then opened them again, as his eyes became clear.

"Isn't this exactly what you wanted?" He said, "You didn't even forget to remind me - or threaten - in class with that massive anti-wizard parades you saw in the Vision. Maybe because the people from the International Confederation of Wizards made you feel threatened, and you were asking me for more rights."

"They humiliated me and you just watched!"

"It was the only way to get them to agree to your stay at the school." Dumbledore said solemnly.

It had happened the day when Felix had left for the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry during the summer break. The International Confederation of Wizards had secretly sent a team to rigorously examine and assess Grindelwald's physical condition.

There was a moment of silence.

"Just a year?" Grindelwald suddenly asked.

"Just a year." Dumbledore said.

"Oh, I see," Grindelwald grinned, showing neat teeth that didn't match his face, "you must not be satisfied with the muggle professor at the school."

"Professor Burbage is doing an excellent job." Dumbledore said gently.

"Really, you mean all those flowers and plants she's obsessed with?" Grindelwald sneered, "It may not have been anything before, but at this time of year, she is completely incompetent, just look at the old outdated textbooks she uses, nothing new, and her understanding of Muggle society seems to be stuck in the last century."

"Charity needs time."

"But you're not going to give her time, which is why I'm standing here, Dumbledore, what exactly are you doing? What are you worried about?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes and seemed to be asleep. When he heard footsteps moving away from him, he said slightly coldly, "Remember, Gellert, I can send you back anytime I want." There was a slight pause in the footsteps.

"How unfeeling."

Dumbledore was left alone in the Astronomy Tower. After a long while, he slowly opened his eyes and recalled in his mind the prophetic vision Grindelwald had shown him during the interview all over again.

"Rita Skeeter." He murmured, "Why did you appear at the parade, and why are you so young and barely different from now? Does this foreshadow the inevitable exposure of the wizarding world, and it will happen in just a few years?"

He took a black jewelled ring from his wide robe and slipped it on his finger, his other hand caressing the patterns on the surface of the jewel.

A whirlwind swept into the Astronomy Tower.

"Ariana." He whispered.

...

"Can anyone tell me," Ron said as he swaggered into a soft armchair in the common room, "Obviously we had the same class, but only Hermione has her hands full?"

Harry looked up from a sheet of parchment and saw that Hermione seemed to have buried herself in a pile of thick books - she had disappeared for a moment after the Defence Against the Dark Arts class and when she came back she looked like this.

Harry shrugged, he thought this is the way that Hermione would act.

So he lowered his head and continued to mull over the Quidditch selection, there are currently three old members left on the team - he, the captain and seeker, Ron, the keeper, and Katie Bell, the chaser - and he'd have to bring in at least four more people.

Maybe he could consider bringing Ginny in.

Harry thought idly and quickly became fascinated by the notion. Ginny had the opportunity to join the team last year, and she flew quite well, and Harry was confident that she would pass the selection process.

But Ginny is in fifth grade this year and has O.W.Ls exams to prepare for. I wonder if she can find the time?

Harry scribbled on his parchment and decided to look for an opportunity to ask, it seemed like ages since he had been alone with Ginny ... "Bang!" The books in front of Harry fell down in all directions, revealing Hermione's annoyed face, as Ron pulled back his hand nervously, it seemed like he was about to pull one of the thick books out from underneath the stack.

"Hermione, you didn't get the time-turner behind our backs again, did you?" Ron asked before she could scold.

"Of course not!" Hermione said, snatching the book back from Ron's hand, "But since there are so many tasks to complete ..."

"Tasks? Why didn't I see anything?"

Hermione said, "Ancient Runes assignment-" "No need to write it, I can meet the professor's requirements." Ron said smugly, "Oh, well not at the moment, but have you noticed that the people who have succeeded have one thing in common? They've all mastered illumination, and it just so happens that I do too. In fact, I've got a bit of a feel of it already, with a bit of practice ..."

"And the Defense Against the Dark Arts-"

"I can't believe someone would go to Professor Bagshot and ask for an assignment, that's purely asking for trouble." Ron said without thinking, then looked at Hermione with a suspicious look on his face, "You wouldn't have done that, would you?"

Hermione puffed up in exasperation, with a strong urge to say yes.

"Besides, we have no idea what homework is left for you right now." Ron added.

Harry nodded in agreement, he was going to hold Quidditch selection at the weekend so the less homework he had for the first week the better it would be.

"We can prepare for it early," Hermione said, "the Ancient Rune Advanced class is practical based, just by looking at Professor Hap you can probably guess what we will be learning this year, and Defence Against the Dark Arts, don't you think the new professor's statements are quite meaningful?"

"Now that you mention it," Harry interjected, and said empathetically, "quite a few people were talking about that class at lunch." He looked around and lowered his voice, "I get the feeling that Professor Bagshot harbours hostility towards Muggles."

It dawned on Ron, " Well, in that case, it does seem a bit ... I originally thought it was just his bad taste."

"It might have something to do with his status and being ostracized." Harry guessed, thinking of what had happened to Filch.

Then came a sudden burst of inspiration, "Maybe Professor Bagshot was drawn here by the exclusive wand, the timing could be almost right! And he probably suffered a lot in his home country, so he came to England without a second thought when he heard of the news-"

"He's a foreigner?" Ron asked in surprise.

"Didn't I mention that to you guys?" Harry said hesitantly, "He said he was from Austria."

"Austria? So he might have graduated from Durmstrang?" Hermione said with interest.

"Or maybe he didn't go to school at all," Ron muttered in a hushed tone, "Don't forget, he's -" he grunted, "a Squib. "

"Impossible," Hermione dismissed it flatly, "Surely you've seen enough today, he's shown great mastery of human transfiguration in class, and with a non-verbal spell to boot! If he is a Squib, he could never have reached that level in a short time -" she looked thoughtfully at the scattered pile of books in front of her, "but it's possible for him to be injured, to have serious after-effects from some magical experiment... ...or a limitation on spellcasting."

Soon, the lunch break was almost over, and they were ready to go to their Potions class.

"Oh no, I don't have a Potions class textbook." Ron slapped his head, "I thought Snape will be teaching the class again this year."

"I have a spare copy." Harry said.

"Half-Blood Prince?" Ron's eyes lit up, but he immediately frowned, "The handwriting on that is so scribbled, only Professor Hap's notes are still readable."

Neither of them mentioned that the book had once belonged to Snape, and rather tacitly agreed that it belonged to Professor Hap. Harry went back to his dorm and rummaged through the bottom of his box for the tattered copy of the Advanced Potion-Making book, and after that, the three of them went to Potions class.

"I wonder how good the new professor is?" Ron muttered.

"I suppose he's good," Harry said, "Headmaster Dumbledore quite admires him."

Actually, they weren't exactly unfamiliar with this Professor Slughorn.

Harry had visited him a lot during the summer break of his fourth year, and He, Ron, and Hermione had been invited to a small gathering of Slughorn's this year in Hogwarts Express, but the result had been nothing but a bellyful of preserved fruit stuffed into their mouths while listening to the professor gush about the wonderful students he had taught and what they had achieved now.

As a result all three still have no idea of the teaching level of their new professor.

...

In the evening, Felix finished his teaching duties for the day.

He returned to his office, "Remember to watch the house." He said to Valen, as he pushed open his bedroom door and headed down the magical link into classroom seven. Voldemort still floated lifelessly in mid-air, and the Ouroboros slowly spun, looking radiant due to the emotions from the new Patronus Harry had injected last night.

Felix sat cross-legged on the empty floor.

When he opened his eyes again, he had appeared quite suddenly at the door of an empty, unfurnished room, where a boy sat on a blanket-covered iron bed, reading a book in his hand.

This is the Wool's Orphanage, and the boy is Voldemort, who has not yet been enrolled.

"Hello Tom," Felix said after a moment's hesitation as he walked up to the bed, "I'm Professor Dumbledore."

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