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

Chapter 629: Detention (2 in 1)

In the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, the students moved.

Desks were stacked up in the corners, leaving a large area in the middle empty. The classroom was in chaos for the next few minutes, no one wanted to be the one with a wand pointed at the back of their head, Harry and Ron pushed and shoved each other half-heartedly, eventually Ron won with his height and physical strength advantage and Harry was shoved to the front. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Neville standing side by side with him, squishing his mouth with an expression of someone heading towards a torture chamber.

“Stand by – front row students cast a Supersensory Charm on themselves -”

Harry didn’t bother to look at the others as he pointed his wand at himself and whispered the incantation. In an instant, his senses became extremely sharp as a myriad of details he had previously overlooked came flooding in; Harry is no stranger to this spell, and he quickly blocked out the unnecessary details, trying his best to catch the threat from behind him. Gradually, he ‘saw’ something, a blur of light appeared behind him, it is Ron’s wand, with something foggy twisting around the tip.

It suddenly occurred to Harry that in the first few lessons, Professor Bagshot had scoffed that their spell casting ‘was as conspicuous to some people as shouting against their ears’.

Harry couldn’t help but clutch his wand tightly, his nerves tensed in fear that Ron would forget the professor’s command and fire off the spell.

It wasn’t unfounded, there were already some students who couldn’t control their magic enough and caused their peers to suffer, those spells had arced like flickering sparks in the darkness to Harry’s perspective. “The failed group will switch places between themselves.” Grindelwald said nonchalantly, turning a blind eye to the menacing glances of students who had swapped places with each other. Seamus was trying desperately to whisper an apology to Dean, saying that he hadn’t meant to do it, but Dean, who smelled like burnt mush, just sneered at him. Draco Malfoy froze in place with a frown, looking sheepishly at Blaise Zabini, who was limping towards him.

For the next few minutes, the classroom was in chaos. Those students who had been unfortunate enough to be hit earlier returned the favour when it was their turn. Various minor hexes flew all over the place, and screams of pain and grimaces were heard everywhere. “Keep quiet, a few minor bruises won’t hurt.” Grindelwald said briskly, his eyes astonishingly sharp as a couple of emotionally disturbed students with oddly shaped heads were called out, and the others continued to practice with caution.

At the moment, only Harry and Ron, and Neville and Hermione were staying still. Hermione is known for her ability to control her magic perfectly and if the professor didn’t call it off, she could have kept it up until the end of class, but it was Neville who was having a hard time, his hair standing on end due to fear, and he had used the shield charm several times for no reason because of his overreaction.

Ron craned his head and laughed out loud when he saw Draco Malfoy fall face-first to the ground after being hit by a Full Body-Bind Curse, and his wrist couldn’t help but shake – “Watch out, Harry! ” Ron abruptly yelled. He didn’t need to remind him, Harry had already noticed the change in the magic wrapped around the tip of Ron’s wand, and at that moment he completely forgot about his half-baked non-verbal spellcasting and shouted, “Protego!”

An invisible wall was instantly formed.

Harry’s shield charm was a little too powerful, and seven or eight students were pushed out of the way, and the classroom instantly became messed up. Harry opened his eyes and saw Neville pinning Justin down, both of them moaning and groaning, and he rushed forward to help them up. It was only at that point that Grindelwald slowly walked over to the students, removing the effects of the various evil hexes from their bodies.

“We will continue after a ten-minute break.” He said calmly.

“It’s a real drag.” An hour later, as the students filed out of the classroom, Ron grimaced and said, “The class was in such disarray, and the professor didn’t say anything to control it.” His arm also had a strange bruise, as if he had been whipped, an effect of Ernie Macmillan’s Stinging Jinx.

Harry didn’t say anything. He was walking a little strangely as if he couldn’t muster any strength in his lower body. After the break, Professor Bagshot switched them around, and he did well using the Supersensory Charm, deflecting several spells that came from behind him, but in the last five minutes of class, before Draco Malfoy could make a move behind him, suddenly there was an accident, and a spell came out of nowhere, hitting Harry straight on. Then Draco ‘accidentally’ lost control, and the combination of the two Jelly-Legs Curse made Harry’s legs as limp as noodles.

Hermione huffed and groomed her hair, which had now become like a Devil’s Snare, tangled in a shaggy mess that Hermione couldn’t straighten out even after a long time of looking in the mirror she had conjured up with her wand.

“I think Professor Bagshot would have liked that!” She said pointedly.

“Why?” Harry asked.

“Think about it guys,” she said, “What was it that he is hoping for?”

“To exercise our use of the Supersensory Charm to spot danger from the dark places.” Harry said, then some understanding dawned on him, “You mean he did it on purpose? Deliberately not maintaining order? How is that possible …”

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“How can practice be as effective as real-life combat?” Hermione snapped. At that moment, a few younger wizards passed by them, covering their mouths and pointing at her, which made her temper even worse. In the end, she decided to leave Harry and Ron behind and make a trip back to the girls’ dormitory.

“Don’t you have an Arithmancy class?”

“Do you want me to walk around with a ball of wool on my head? Not a chance!” Hermione shouted in annoyance, “I hate Daphne Greengrass!” With that she ran off, leaving Harry and Ron looking at each other, and Ron said frankly to Harry, “She described it accurately, it does look quite like a ball of wool, I think Crookshanks gave her the inspiration.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Ginny suddenly appeared.

She held out her hand and tugged a distracted Luna towards her as if to prevent her from wandering off. “Hello guys.” Luna greeted in a somewhat indistinct voice, her eyes trailing Hermione’s departing back, clearly very intrigued.

Harry’s face flushed a little as he suddenly remembered the time he had spent with Ginny at Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop, as if the time had turned back in a flash, bringing him back to the past, and he was already looking forward to the next Hogsmeade weekend.

“Um,” Ginny’s voice suddenly sounded like a mosquito and her cheeks flushed crimson, “Ha, Harry, Luna wants to talk to you, Luna?”

Luna was talking to Ron. “I like Hermione’s new hairstyle.” She said, “I’m just not sure if it’s a chore to deal with.”

“Oh, it’s quite trouble-free, you just need to master the Knitting Charm.” Ron replied.

“Luna!” Ginny called out.

“Oh,” Luna snapped back, and she said with a big smile, “I’d like to ask you a favour.”

“No problem.” Harry said, looking at Luna, surprised to see that this quirky girl had new ornaments, her hair, neck, and wrists were wrapped in hair ornaments, bracelets and necklaces made from colourful stones, and Harry felt that these things would only look good on Luna without looking too out of place, probably because her unique temperament was already quite striking.

“I would like to learn a few Parseltongue words.” Luna said.

“Okay – what?!” Harry shouted, and Ron, who had questioned Ginny in one corner about why she was blushing, jerked his head back, his neck twisted as if he had been hit by the knotting curse. He had an incredulous look on his face; but Ginny looked very calm, as if she had known about this all along, her eyes darting around.

“Parseltongue words.” Luna repeated as she seemed to misinterpret that Harry hadn’t heard her. She deliberately slowed her speech down a little and mouthed the words with a perfect standard.

“Oh Luna, I understand you want to learn Parseltongue,” Harry said with a headache, “I mean … well, which word do you want to learn?” He actually had a premonition in his mind when he asked the question.

“Op…en.” Luna said again in a very, very slow pace of speech.

Harry’s heart sank.

Open. It is the secret key to the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets, which means they both wanted to go inside the Chamber! Harry didn’t think he could have guessed wrong, and he stared at Ginny, who had already turned her head away and was stealing glances at Harry sheepishly from the corner of her eyes.

Harry was stumped by it, and more importantly, he couldn’t figure out why Luna suddenly wanted to go to the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets, is it because of something Ginny had said? He could only dodge it for now, “Well – I have to think about it, I have Ancient Rune Class in the afternoon … ahem, I mean Potions Class … ”

Luna stared at him for a while, “Okay, so are you free this weekend?”

Harry nodded woodenly.

Luna bounced away. Ginny also tried to slip away while she had the chance, but was held behind by Harry, who wanted to find out what was going on. Ginny looked downcast as they made their way towards the common room, “We tried so many things, asking Fred and George for secret passages, finding the Centaur Firenze to divine, and placing an ad in the Wall of Mystery tabloid – that’s how Luna got that little colourful pebbles, and she actually liked it! ”

“Don’t try to change the subject.” Harry said.

Ginny gave him a blank look and whispered, “Well … to find the Resurrection Stone.”

…

When Hermione returned from her Arithmancy class and saw Harry, Ron and Ginny gathered together with blank looks on their faces in a serious atmosphere, she asked in confusion, “What’s wrong?” She thought about the events that had happened in the past two days and said, “You’re not still obsessing about this Carlotta Pinkstone person, are you?”

“It’s more serious than that. Hermione.” Ron said with a stern face, “We shouldn’t get much of a chance to meet Carlotta Pinkstone in person unless you count the three chocolate frog cards pressed into the bottom of my trunk. To be honest, I had forgotten about her a long time ago.”

“Then what’s this all about?” Hermione asked curiously.

Harry, who had already heard it once, inevitably became distracted when Ginny whispered about her and Luna’s efforts to find the Resurrection Stone during this period of time, and he started to think about the viability of going into the Chamber of Secrets safely. The first time he heard about it, he did get a little angry because he, Ron, and Hermione had almost gotten killed there in the second year – although it turned out afterward that they were safe as one could be, with three professors standing nearby!

The other thing is, the basilisk was already dead. It is presumed that all the materials from its body were divided up and used cleanly by the professors; the Ring of the Ouroboros Serpent of the Magic Rune Club was built from the scales of the basilisk, and Snape had published several high-end research papers based on it.

As for the hidden dangers – Harry had confidence that Professor Hap and Headmaster Dumbledore wouldn’t let it go, so in theory, it was safe there.

Harry’s attitude was beginning to waver.

After the Potions lesson in the afternoon, Harry once again politely declined Slughorn’s invitation, “I’m going to Professor Bagshot’s office tonight to catch up on my homework.” He said unhappily, and unexpectedly had some hope in his heart that Professor Slughorn would fight for him, so he purposely didn’t use ‘Quidditch training’ as an excuse.

But Professor Slughorn only rolled his eyes a few times, “It’s him, I don’t know him very well, I always feel this person is very…” his eyes glazed over, and he couldn’t come up with a single adjective, he fiddled with the gold buttons on his vest and muttered uneasily. “It’s a shame, isn’t it? We can only look for another chance.”

So at eight in the evening, Harry knocked on the door of the Defence Against the Dark Arts class professor with a belly full of grievances.

“Come in, Harry.” Grindelwald said.

“Sir, I have come to explain the mistake I made in my essay.” Harry said, averting his eyes from Grindelwald, only to accidentally see an unwrapped gift box on his desk that he thought looked a little familiar.

Grindelwald grinned.

“Do you think I don’t remember the old time? Harry, I didn’t intend to criticize you, and yes, there are some points in your essay that seem … naive, but that’s not your fault. I will never forget that afternoon when you offered me a helping hand. It’s not just anyone who would help an old man who has no one to turn to. I appreciate that, Harry.”

Harry visibly froze a little.

“I, actually … am …,” he stammered.

“Being kind.” Grindelwald said softly, “Back then, I have dropped your door a few times, with a selfish intention … I was trying to find out more about Hogwarts to build up my chances of getting a job at the interview. I ended up overhearing by chance how your aunt and uncle treated you and talked so meanly that on several occasions I wanted to rush in and question them out loud about why they were treating their own family members like that, just because you are a wizard?”

Harry’s eyes reddened.

“Sir,” he whispered, “I’m used to it, and when I’m an adult, I’ll move out.”

Grindelwald patted Harry on the shoulder, “I completely understand your dilemma, even when I told you to fight back properly – which is your right – you gave it up because of the goodness in your heart – -”

“I can’t cast magic outside of school.” Harry whispered. He suddenly thought of Dudley.

“We both know that’s just an excuse. If a wizard wants revenge, there are a million ways to make them feel pain. It was your kindness that helped you forgive them, even if they are not grateful for it, but that is not your fault,” Grindelwald said emphatically, “It is not your fault.”

Harry wiped his eyes.

“I was an acolyte, boy.” Grindelwald said.

“An acolyte, of what? Sir?”

“An acolyte.” Grindelwald said, “Do you know Grindelwald? His followers are called Acolytes, but actually ‘followers’ isn’t the right word because we all got together with the dream of changing the wizarding world.”

“I, I haven’t heard much about …” Harry said with a sense of shame, and his eyes suddenly widened, “Wait! Grindelwald? I recall something about him.” He struggled to recall and recited a passage, “Albus Dumbledore is most famous for his contributions such as: in 1945 defeating-”

“- Grindelwald the Dark Lord.” Grindelwald flashed his white teeth and said with a cold smile, “That was the mark he left on the world. It is recorded on the Chocolate Frog card, about him being the greatest wizards of our era and also about that duel as one of the greatest duel of our era.”

Harry didn’t know what to say, his mind was in turmoil. He tried to make sense of the explosive information he had just received: was Professor Bagshot a former acolyte, a follower of the dark lord Grindelwald … no, I should say a supporter of his philosophy, and is that why Professor Bagshot hates Muggles? He thought he had found the reason.

Grindelwald looked at Harry calmly. Then he took out his wand and held it against his forehead, pulling a thin silver filament with the tip from his wand.

“Professor?” Harry asked in a whisper.

“Shh.” Grindelwald held up a finger as he flung the wand in his hand so hard that the silver filament was tossed into the air, and then footage hovered in the office.

It appeared to be a party. A middle-aged male wizard walked onto the stage, he didn’t look like a wizard, but rather a rock star. Harry thought to himself. Then there was a hollow, frenzied cheer echoing through the screen, and the place was so packed that Harry inexplicably thought of the scene where he had won the Quidditch championship.

In the scene, the crowd quieted down and the man in the centre of the stage began to make a speech, and Harry was surprised to find that one of his eyes is silver and white.

“… They all have said that I hate non-wizards, muggles, No-Majs, and Moldus.” Harry looked over at Grindelwald, as he wondered what the last words meant. “Different words for non-magical people.” Grindelwald simply said. Harry nodded and looked back up into the air again.

“I don’t hate them. I don’t hate anyone.”

“I don’t fight for the sake of hatred. I see Muggles not as an inferior group, but as a group of other species. Not worthless, but worthy of something more. They must not be treated lightly, they should be treated specially.”

The man in the image paused and continued.

“The bloom of magic will only grace a very few souls. It will be granted only to those who pursue a nobler cause. Using it we will create a better world for all mankind! What we seek is freedom, truth-” With that, the man suddenly looked beyond the image, and looked at Harry, as if addressing him.

“-and more than that, love.”

Harry’s jaw dropped as he watched, and he couldn’t help but gulp. At that moment, the image disappeared, and he felt unfulfilled.

“Is there more?” He asked.

“I’m sorry,” Grindelwald said, “I shouldn’t have shown you this, I had promised Dumbledore that … it might get me into trouble. But an old friend found me last week and stirred up some memories.” He said as he glanced over to the gift box that Harry had noticed earlier.

There was a moment of silence.

“The man in the image is Grindelwald?” Harry asked thoughtfully.

“That’s right.” Grindelwald showed a smile, “Well, leave him alone, boy. I should remind you that he is a dark lord who has started many protests and killed many people … Let’s get back to your essay and after dealing with those little problems we can talk about magic.”

“I can see that you have a talent for it.”

—————

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