https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-714-Assisting-the-Publicization-of-Magic/13463073/
Chapter 715: Speculation
Chapter 715: Speculation
From the start of the school year, Harry felt as if his attention had been split into a half-dozen pieces—Quidditch, Dumbledore’s biography, the student council, clubs... The difficulty of seventh-year classes had also increased, and the professors seemed to be waiting for this moment to cram all sorts of advanced magical knowledge into their heads.
During Charms class, the diminutive and excitable Professor Flitwick exclaimed in an exaggerated tone:
"Goodness me! I almost want to list all the useful spells, but I'm afraid your poor little brains can't handle it!"
The students exchanged glances.
"But don't worry", he said with a smile, standing as usual on a stack of thick books. "I will teach you more practical things, things that get closer to the essence of spells... For example, the Storage Spell, which can fire two completely different spells at once; and the method for analyzing and constructing unfamiliar spells, which will certainly come in handy if you plan to invent spells in the future; or other advanced spellcasting techniques, such as the order of different spells on the same target and how to reduce interference... and so on."
In Potions class, the students were not spared either. Harry felt as if he had been transported back to his first year—after the failure of the first lesson in making a Scabbing Potion, Snape had trained them in the most basic potion-making techniques for several weeks—
In the advanced class, students had to do their best to meet Professor Slughorn’s various demands, such as "using rose petals and bouncing toadstools to reduce the toxicity of wolfsbane" and "how to maximize the effectiveness of feathergrass with limited materials"...
Even the new Transfiguration professor, Emmeline Vance, after getting familiar with her teaching duties, set new requirements for the students: In seventh year, they would continue to study human transfiguration and try to combine transfiguration theory with various complex models for comprehensive application. She demonstrated by turning a feather into a bird, then the bird’s long beak flattened, its feathers fell off, and black, velvety fur grew in, transforming it into a Niffler. The students were amazed.
"It’s just a matter of appearance", Emmeline Vance said. "My advice is not to be limited by the transfigurations you’ve learned before, but to understand what effect you want to achieve."
Snape’s attitude, however, was the most unsettling for the students.
Even in his favorite subject, his attitude did not change much. In the most recent Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Snape flipped through the textbook to the last page. The students watched his movements, guessing which part they would study, but Snape tossed the book aside.
"Today’s lesson is an extension topic, and you will find that the exam will not cover this material", his black eyes scanned the classroom. "This means that this class will not be very helpful for those who only want to get their N.E.W.T. certificates. Those who don’t want to listen or don’t understand can come back next week."
No one left voluntarily. Despite feeling disrespected, everyone was secretly determined to prove themselves. But after class, the students walked out of the classroom dejectedly, clearly none had met Snape’s standards.
"Do you know what’s most annoying?" Dean fumed, "He actually suggested I use the free time for something else... like swimming in the Black Lake."
"That’s not surprising", Seamus said, suppressing a laugh, "You almost hit him with that hair-loss spell. Think about it—"
"But the seventh-year curriculum is truly valuable, with advanced applications of defensive spells and dueling techniques that are mind-boggling", Daphne Greengrass chirped excitedly. "You can’t imagine how amazing it is to replace 'Stupefy' with 'End-All Spell'..."
On the afternoon of the last day of September, Hermione emerged from the dormitory with a box, sat down opposite Harry and Ron. They stared at the box intently, and Harry said without much hope, "Hermione, it’s not some badge, is it?"
"—And with an ambiguous acronym?" Ron added.
Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"Of course not!" She opened the box and poured out its contents, a thick stack of clippings immediately piled up on the table like a small mountain. Harry and Ron leaned in to inspect them. "These are the clippings I’ve collected over the past month. Now I need to reorganize them."
"Like you did during the summer?" Harry asked.
"Exactly", Hermione said.
"Can you see anything interesting?" Harry asked, as he and Ron sifted through the clippings, picking out the ones that caught their interest.
Since the start of the school year, the clipping work from the summer had stopped. Other students at most subscribed to one or two newspapers, except for Hermione—she had subscribed to every newspaper and magazine she could find. Every week, the Grangers sent her a package containing all the Muggle newspapers they could buy.
"The news is always a bit delayed, but it still provides useful information. I must say, things are changing rapidly", Hermione said, sorting through the clippings. "Especially when read alongside 'Aiding the Publicization of Magic'..."
“I don’t need to look to know,” Ron grumbled. “The whole world is changing, except for Professor Binns's class.”
Harry’s gaze lingered on a small clipping, and he bent down to read it.
‘The new wizard village is set to be located in Cornwall and will be named Rutherford. Two hundred wizards have already moved there. It is reported that Rutherford is adjacent to another mixed wizard-Muggle settlement, Tinworth village. With the new town’s completion, surrounding wizards will have more options…’
Tinworth… Harry stared at the name, lost in thought. He suddenly asked Ron, “Where did Bill Weasley and Fleur settle down?”
“Shell Cottage,” Ron said casually.
“No, I mean the specific location.”
“Oh, it’s on a coastal cliff in Cornwall,” Ron said, a look of recollection on his face. “Bill Weasley wrote to me—on the outskirts of a village called… what was it again?”
“Tinworth,” Harry said confidently.
“Right, that’s it.”
Harry nodded and continued reading the neatly printed text on the clipping. ‘Rutherford will become the second all-wizard village in Britain, the first being Hogsmeade. The construction involves twenty-four staff members and fifty-seven wizard families who have decided to settle there. We thank them for their contributions…’
Harry’s eyes caught the surname Longbottom in a long list of names.
The second news item was a Daily Prophet reprint of a Muggle newspaper interview. A prominent figure criticized the impact of wizard-Muggle trade on existing business rules, arguing that certain industries should be off-limits to wizards… Harry put down the clipping, having grown accustomed to the occasional opposition, and picked up another small piece of paper.
The paper was filled with tight, small writing, detailing how the American Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had accepted twelve children with magical abilities, none of whom were old enough for school. The oldest was ten, and the youngest was six. Harry felt uncomfortable reading that these children had been forced to take special drugs and subjected to various tests. He paused for a moment before continuing to read the next paragraph, which described their origins—‘Descendants of the Purge Remnants. The Purge Remnants shamefully betrayed their own kind, marrying Muggles to escape punishment and abandoning any children who showed magical talent… they eventually faced their due retribution.’
A mix of anger and vindication welled up inside Harry. A vague idea began to form in his mind but was quickly interrupted.
“Hey! Listen to this,” Ron exclaimed excitedly. “This Muggle newspaper praises Dumbledore for single-handedly intimidating two generations of Dark Lords. Now it’s Professor Hep’s turn, and they’re curious who the most powerful wizard is—”
Hermione snorted sarcastically. “They just want Grindelwald and the professor to fight.”
“I’m curious too,” Ron said, relishing the news. “They call Dumbledore the Sword Bearer, which is pretty cool, but he wields a wand, not a sword… or maybe they mean the Sword of Gryffindor?” He mimed holding a goblin-forged sword that could slice through iron.
“How’s the biography coming along?” Hermione asked Harry, clipping the stack of clippings together.
“At least a few more months,” Harry grumbled. “Mr. Diggory has high standards.”
Hermione shrugged and took the small paper from Harry, glancing at it before sighing. “I hope these children are well cared for.” But then her eyes froze, and the sympathy in her gaze turned to horror.
“No, it can’t be… it’s impossible…” she muttered to herself.
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked.
Hermione held her breath and whispered, “Do you think… these children, are they the first? Only them? Could there be more—”
“What first batch?” Ron stopped what he was doing to ask.
Harry’s eyes widened. The vague idea that had been lingering in his mind suddenly became clear, but he wished it wasn’t true.
“You mean there were others before them, controlled by the local government—” Harry couldn’t finish his sentence, his expression serious. The thought was too terrifying.
Ron looked around and snatched the note from Hermione’s hand, quickly reading it. His face gradually turned pale, and he looked uneasy. But then he had an idea. “Wait—maybe it’s not what you think. Ilvermorny and Hogwarts have similar magic. Any young wizard who shows magical talent is recorded—these twelve kids were just too young, so they were vulnerable to exploitation.”
Harry and Hermione were taken aback. Ron’s explanation seemed plausible, and they couldn’t find any flaws. They both breathed a sigh of relief. After organizing the clippings, Hermione pulled out a book titled Contributions to the Publicization of Magic from her beaded purse, but she remained restless for a long time, even losing her appetite for dinner.
In the end, Harry suggested they visit Hagrid. Ron and Hermione didn’t object, so they left the castle and knocked on Hagrid's Hut for ten minutes without any response. No one was inside. "Hagrid isn’t home. He might be patrolling the Forbidden Forest", Harry said. "That’s strange; the lights were on the whole time."
"Or maybe he’s out for a walk with Grawp—either way, we made a wasted trip", Ron said, frowning.
They had no choice but to head back. Harry looked back several times but didn’t see Hagrid or any larger figure.
"Let’s try again tomorrow, Harry", Hermione suggested.
"Remember to bring the Marauder's Map so we don’t miss him", Ron added.
"Good idea", Harry said. "But there’s no need to carry it around. We can check if Hagrid’s home before we come. My copy of the Marauder's Map can’t see deep into the Forbidden Forest—what’s wrong, Hermione?"
Hermione suddenly stopped, her eyes wide with fear.
"The lights... the Marauder's Map... can’t see..." She suddenly jumped up. "Oh, I just remembered something important—but I need to confirm it first. I’ll find you later." Before Harry could ask, she darted into the entrance hall.
"What’s she thinking about?" Ron asked, puzzled.
"I’m not sure", Harry replied, a shadow crossing his mind. He thought about the American Purge Remnants and the heavy topics they had discussed earlier, but what could the lights and the Marauder's Map have to do with it? "Come on, let’s follow her!"
They ran up the stairs but didn’t see Hermione even after reaching the fifth floor. "She might have gone to the Library." They retraced their steps and searched the Library under Madam Pince’s sharp gaze, but found nothing. They returned to the common room to wait for Hermione to come back.
Meanwhile—
Hermione returned from the Ancient Runes office, which was also locked. Clearly, the professor hadn’t returned to the school yet. She hesitated, unsure of what to do. Then, a strange noise came from her beaded purse. She pulled out a glowing Scrying Mirror.
"Is it Valen?" Hermione’s eyes lit up. If Valen was back, the professor must be too.
She held the mirror, which was actually a Niffler-finding Scrying Mirror, and descended the spiral staircase, quickly returning to the entrance hall. She paused by the House Cup hourglasses to orient herself before heading down the underground passage. Could they be in Professor Snape’s office?
With this thought, Hermione followed the stone stairs to a spacious underground corridor. The lights were on, and the walls were adorned with colorful portraits. Occasionally, she saw a couple of Hufflepuff students talking behind pillars. This wasn’t the way to the former Potions professor’s office.
"..."
Hermione’s expression grew even more puzzled. "Well, it’s not impossible." She stopped in front of a painting of a large silver bowl filled with fruit. She took a deep breath, extended her index finger, and gently scratched the green pear. The pear wriggled and transformed into a green handle.
Hermione pushed the door open—inside was Hogwarts’ kitchen. Her gaze swept over the spacious, clean room, which was as large as the Great Hall and had identical long tables. She quickly walked through to the kitchen’s actual location.
Hermione spotted her target immediately. Her heart, once filled with anxiety and fear, now felt a bit lighter. Felix was sitting on a small bench, the kind House-elves usually sat on, with his hands resting on his knees, staring at the large fireplace. Dozens of House-elves surrounded him. She took a few steps forward and, through the gaps between the elves, saw a small, black, furry creature—Valen—sitting on a small stool, hugging its knees and staring intently at the fireplace.
The air was filled with an enticing aroma.
"Swallow." Hermione couldn’t help but swallow, as she hadn’t eaten much that evening.
Felix turned on the bench, revealing a dozen sizzling, flipping fish in the fireplace. His eyes showed a moment of surprise.
"Granger? What a coincidence to run into you here—uh, I haven’t had dinner yet. Are you—?" He studied Hermione’s face closely. "Are you here for food too?"
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
