A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 491: The Hat and the Ring

Chapter 491: The Hat and the Ring

The snap of a camera echoed as several young wizards stared at a stout man holding a smoky camera, the source of the sound. Rita Skeeter, beside the photographer, eagerly commanded for more shots. This was groundbreaking news, comparable to the recent protests in France by the Ilvermorny students, or perhaps even more significant in Rita's eyes. While the President of the American magical congress hadn't resigned, Rita felt it was inevitable for Fudge to step down.

Suddenly, Rita found herself the center of attention. "The public deserves the truth, um... I'll report accurately," she insincerely smiled.

Rita, donned in a dark red robe with glittery edges, was less conspicuous at night compared to her previous appearances, evading the notice of many young wizards.

Harry noticed her nails had changed from bright red to emerald green.

"An unpleasant person," Ron muttered, adding, "but not entirely dreadful. Besides being initially annoying, she does things somewhat decently. Helped us out a few times, quite strange..."

Collins grunted nearby.

"What?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"Have you not seen her recent articles?" Cedric hesitated, "After months of silence, she's been publishing extensively, creating false heroes, fabricating private lives..." Autumn had had a few arguments about this, though they were happy disagreements.

Bozzo, the short photographer, kept quiet but was temperamental. "Make way! These photos could win awards," he gruffly said, pushing a young wizard aside, capturing suitable angles. With a few clicks and purplish smoke, Fudge's imposing face was captured on film.

At that moment, Felix emerged from a makeshift tent, cleared his throat, and surveyed the surroundings.

"Professor, you're awake!"

"Professor Hape—"

"Thank goodness!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exclaimed in surprise, diverting their attention from Rita Skeeter's odd curly hair and the black camera continually emitting purple mist, focusing on Felix.

"Thank you, thank you all," Felix said. "You truly helped a lot. If my... treatment had been interrupted, it would have caused quite an impact." In an instant, Harry and his friends understood his unspoken words.

Other students gleaned the truth from Hermione's earlier remarks. They waved their wands excitedly, Fred loudly exclaimed, "It's what we should do, Professor. How many detentions have you helped us escape from?"

Fred's cheeky comment shattered the solemn atmosphere, surprisingly gaining nods of agreement from several students.

"Professor Hape taught me the technique for the fishbone hex—"

"He knows everything about the creatures in the Black Lake!"

"They say the house-elves in the kitchens have a mysterious cookbook contributed by Professor Hape—"

"No wonder I often hear about the professor and Valen having midnight snacks—"

"Professor Hape caught me trespassing in the Forbidden Forest, not only did he not punish me, he invited me to explore with him... We encountered terrifying eight-eyed spiders, and I had nightmares for two days! In hindsight, it might have been arranged by the professor..."

"Quite cunning, Professor!"

The students buzzed with conversation. Professor McGonagall's lips tightened into a line, her stern gaze shifting between the students and Felix.

"Let it go, Miller, see how popular he is," Professor Flitwick chuckled.

"In layman's terms, he leads the infractions, but I didn't see..." Professor McGonagall hesitated, "We'll let bygones be bygones, but it's not to set a precedent."

As the voices settled, Felix turned his gaze toward Fudge and the haughty Aurors from the Ministry. They stood like pumpkin lights, adding festivity to the Christmas hall, unmoving.

"Allow me to defend myself," he said. "If the Minister still thinks I'm responsible for tonight's events, I am willing to cooperate."

"Professor!" Harry looked at him anxiously.

"It's fine," Felix shook his head at him, hesitated for a moment, then said to Hermione, "Miss Granger, could you please help?"

Hermione nodded eagerly.

Felix locked eyes with her, casting a swift Memory Room charm. Then he withdrew his wand and placed it in front of her. Hermione grabbed it. Subsequently, wisps of mist emerged from the wand's tip, enveloped in soap-like bubbles, expanding.

"Imagine the most vivid memory from tonight," Felix said, mostly for the benefit of the others, having communicated specifics with Hermione in the Memory Room.

When the soap bubble reached the size of a human head, Felix severed its connection with the wand. It shimmered in the dark sky, slowly floating upwards.

"I seem to see some figures," a young wizard staring at the soap bubble exclaimed.

"I see them too."

As the soap bubble soared thirty feet high, everyone present could clearly see it. At that moment, Felix waved his wand, and the bubble burst with a 'pop,' releasing mist that fluttered like snowflakes, forming a moving picture.

Everyone saw Harry and, in a blink, Ron bound to a black tombstone. It was evidently from an observer's perspective, matching the professor's actions and likely what Hermione witnessed.

In the scene, Harry, covered in dust, stood with his back to them, passionately yelling, "You dare not use the Killing Curse on me, do you? You fear my mother's magic protecting me with her life, afraid the curse will rebound on you, ending you utterly, making you a complete joke!"

Everyone was captivated. Soon after, they saw a person opposite Harry, a chilling sight tied to the black tombstone—a nightmarish face, paler than a skull, blood-red eyes, with only thin slits where a nose should be, snakelike. Clad in a thin black robe, billowing in the night breeze, revealing a skeletal frame...

"The Dark Lord!" someone panicked. "He's truly returned!"

Adults—professors, Aurors, and others from different schools—displayed grave expressions. Some might have only heard tales of Voldemort's terror, while others might not have heard at all. Yet, the ominous presence of the figure in the picture conveyed the exact apprehension to all.

Just knowing someone 'returned from the dead' was enough for them to be on high alert.

In the scene, Voldemort's red eyes fixated on Harry, seeming to stare at everyone, and then he revealed a dreadful smile, uttering the curse, "Crucio!" The crowd gasped, some dared not to look, yet Harry unexpectedly stood firm, openly provoking, causing everyone to sweat nervously. Sirius fixed his gaze on Voldemort's shadow, his teeth grinding audibly.

Voldemort was clearly angered by Harry; he loudly invoked the curse. At that moment, a red light descended from above, shielding Harry...

"It's Professor Snape!"

"He's in the air, it's unbelievable—"

"Stop being so surprised, didn't you see his silver wings during the second task?"

"I just never thought that thing could actually fly!"

The scene ended there. Felix decided not to reveal the complete process for now, both to prevent people from witnessing Voldemort's strength and losing confidence and because he didn't want his resurrection process to spread...

He glanced at Rita Skeeter in the corner, her pudgy fingers gesturing urgently for the photographer to snap pictures.

He only needed to select a segment that showcased Voldemort's cruelty.

"For now, that's all," Felix said in the stifling silence. "Just evidence, not absolute proof. And Granger's condition is somewhat deteriorating..."

Hermione gasped for breath at the opportune moment.

"—I have more evidence, more reliable than memories, but perhaps I'll present it at the trial?" He looked to Fudge for input, but Fudge seemed ashen-faced, seemingly deaf to his words.

"Of course not," Dumbledore gently interjected. "I will convene a meeting of all Wizengamot members in my capacity as Chief Warlock. Felix, I hope you can attend to testify."

"It's what I should do," Felix responded cooperatively.

Fudge muttered to himself, "He's back—truly back—how—how is it possible—"

"So, Minister, do you have any more questions? Or concerns that I might flee before the meeting?" Felix inquired.

Fudge's lips trembled, shaking uncontrollably. "No... not...," he managed a forced smile, but someone rudely interrupted—Madam Pomfrey, who had been waiting on the sidelines.

"So—is everything finally over? Thank goodness!" She hurried over to Harry and the others. "You need treatment; it's been hours already. Did you think the curse would be so easy to withstand?" She hustled and bustled, shoving Harry, Ron, and Hermione as if she were herding ducks.

"Ouch—" Ron yelped in pain. "Easy, Madam Pomfrey."

"Weren't you just heroes a moment ago?" Madam Pomfrey scowled at him. "That was an Unforgivable Curse—"

"But it was my leg that got injured," Ron protested.

"...Alright, you have a point. I won't argue with a patient..." She rambled on, leading the trio to a nearby temporary tent for treatment.

Dumbledore timely arranged for professors to escort the students back to the castle.

"While I appreciate your tremendous integrity and courage tonight, I must remind you that it's very late. Go on, rest. There won't be any classes in this final week of the school year..."

The students erupted in cheers. Soon after, a few yawns escaped, like a contagious wave, and soon everyone was yawning, heavy with fatigue.

While no one was looking, Fudge slipped away like a fat old rat.

"Wait, Minister, you've left your hat—" George picked up a dusty hat from the ground, calling out to Fudge. Fudge mechanically turned back, and with a spell, the hat flew towards him, smacking him on the nose.

The students who witnessed this scene chuckled softly.

The Death Eaters showed no reaction, trudging away with heavy steps.

"Draco," Felix, satisfied with Fudge's embarrassment, called out to Draco who was walking behind. "Pass a message to Miss Bones for me; I'll make time to visit her in the next couple of days."

Draco nodded.

Fudge heard this but hesitated, not turning back. He stumbled several times before disappearing from Felix's sight.

"I used to get along somewhat well with him," Dumbledore murmured softly, gazing into the distance. "At the beginning of his tenure as Minister, he'd come to me for advice constantly, seeking guidance. But later, his confidence grew, and he could make decisions on his own. Perhaps, because of his cautious past experiences, he became enamored with power, and he now eyes everyone who could threaten his position..."

"Albus," Felix smiled faintly, "I'm already looking forward to the days without Fudge."

...

Late at night.

The room was dimly lit, the portraits of former headmasters snoring softly on the walls.

Dumbledore sat quietly behind his desk, lost in thought. The silverware on the table produced faint noises. After a while, he opened the left drawer, which held a locket box and a wand.

These two items were both related to Voldemort—the former was one of his Horcruxes, and the latter was his yew wand, which Dumbledore had seized from Barty Crouch on Christmas night.

But apart from the locket box and wand, there was now a ring in the drawer. It was large, seemingly made of gold, roughly crafted, with a heavy black stone in the middle, cracked.

"The Resurrection Stone... not yet the time." Dumbledore murmured softly, his finger brushing the black gem on the ring.

With great restraint, he closed the drawer, exhaling softly.

"You're getting old, Dumbledore," remarked the Sorting Hat on the shelf.

"Thank you for the reminder," Dumbledore smiled faintly. Then he delved into contemplation again. "Just one more or two?"

After a moment of silence, he waved his wand, summoning the silver phoenix guardian calmly. "Fawkes, come to my office."

"3.8k words today. The fourth part of the plot is about to conclude. The author will spend time reviewing the previous chapters, tying up any loose ends, so updates might be slightly fewer than usual. Thank you for your understanding, dear readers."

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