The Old Ones of Hogwarts

Chapter 31: No time to explain! Get in the coffin!

Sun rises and sets, time flows on.

Hogsmeade Village always seemed so peaceful and serene.

Outside the village, the trees were lush and verdant, with vines called "years" entwined around their trunks. Ian, carrying his newly bought axe, was chopping down a tree that wasn't particularly thick.

"Little Ian, do you need my help?"

Madame Patif, the owner of the teahouse, had just returned from outside the village. She was plump and had her hair styled in a shiny black bun at the back of her head.

Seeing the tiny Ian chopping down a tree, the tea shop owner didn't scold him. Instead, he took out his wand and asked Ian with a smile.

"Miss Padif, I really need your help." Ian not only underestimated his talent for dark magic, but he also overestimated his physical abilities at just over ten years old.

Who would have thought that it was just a tree, and after half an hour of chopping, it still hadn't fallen? This wasn't just because the axe was too small, but also because Ian didn't have the strength and stamina of an adult.

"Your words are still so sweet."

Lady Patif was pleased with how Ian addressed her. In fact, it wasn't hard to see some of the fat witch's inner thoughts from the fact that she decorated her teahouse with a girlish flair.

"Do you need me to break it into smaller pieces for you?"

Lady Pardee did not chant any spells; she simply waved her wand lightly, and the gap in the tree that had been cut snapped in two. Then, she used a levitation charm to levitate it in mid-air.

"If I could, I'd like individual planks of wood."

Ian looked at the spectacle before him with a hint of envy.

The wizards who were able to live near Hogwarts and run shops may not have been exceptionally talented masters, but they were definitely among the elite of the wizarding world.

"As you wish."

Lady Padve flicked her wand, and the ancient tree began to split, eventually turning into neat, uniform planks of wood, which were then stacked up and placed in front of Ian.

"You're truly a master of magic!"

Ian exclaimed in genuine admiration.

"Hahaha, I used to be number one in my grade too."

Mrs. Parthoff showed off with no small amount of pride.

"I really hope I can be as good as you."

Ian quickly offered a witty remark, making Lady Patif laugh heartily. The fat witch's laughter was grand and unpretentious, giving her a heroic air.

"Hufflepuff will definitely welcome you."

Madame Padve revealed the college she had attended.

"I also hope to become a great Hufflepuff." Ian always speaks his mind, but in reality, he doesn't have any resistance to studying in Hufflepuff.

Who wouldn't love living next to a kitchen, where they can eat hot pot whenever they want, or beef whenever they want?

"Do you need me to help you take these planks back?"

Mrs. Parth was delighted and immediately became even more enthusiastic.

"The journey isn't far, I can bring them back in batches... it's also a form of training." Ian didn't want to trouble others too much, so he took out his wand and chanted a spell on a section of the wooden board.

"Yugadimurleviosa!"

Ian's spell was successfully cast, causing part of the wooden planks to float, and his panel changed accordingly.

[Successfully cast the Levitation Spell, Magic Proficiency +3]

If someone possesses exceptional talent in dark magic, their talent in other magical fields is naturally bound to be equally impressive, since dark magic is, after all, a type of magic.

of course.

After all, the time for studying is too short.

A level one [Levitation Spell] is not enough for Ian to manipulate objects that are too heavy.

"Truly a remarkable spellcasting."

Lady Patif watched as Ian so carefully maneuvered a section of the floating plank toward the village, and she was genuinely amazed by his unexpected actions.

"You will definitely become an outstanding wizard in the future."

This is Lady Patif's current opinion. After all, successfully casting the Levitation Charm is not difficult, but maintaining it is definitely challenging.

Let alone young wizards who haven't even started school yet.

Even many young wizards who have already entered the second year cannot do it.

"I hope so too, thank you for your help."

Ian focused entirely on controlling the spell, waving goodbye to Lady Patif with his other hand, and carefully began to walk towards the cabin.

The house Snape arranged was located on the edge of the village.

It's not far away.

Along the way.

[Successfully maintained levitation spell, magic proficiency +1]

Ian gained another boost in proficiency—after four or five trips, he finally brought all the planks back to the cabin.

but.

He is currently lacking a shovel, deodorizer, plastic sheeting, and most importantly, nails.

……

Hogwarts.

The office of the Slytherin Dean.

Snape looked very unpleasant.

As the Potions Professor at Hogwarts and a world-renowned Potions Master, he actually ruined a simple potion of Felix Felicis today, just like those foolish Gryffindors!

"It's all Dumbledore's fault!"

Snape hadn't been sleeping well lately, and that's why he missed stirring the Felix Felicis today, so that what should have been a perfect dose of Felix Felicis was destined to have an irreparable flaw.

Snape blamed the whole thing on Dumbledore for a simple reason: he couldn't sleep because of something Dumbledore had said to him a few days earlier.

"It's not that he needs you, it's that you need him."

Although Snape had already angrily rebuked Dumbledore for talking nonsense at the time, those words had been lingering in Snape's mind for days and he couldn't shake them off.

"I don't need anyone!"

Snape remained convinced of this.

But he also knew.

If you want to get rid of the nightmares that haunt you, you have to do something to prove yourself.

then.

Looking at the Felix Felicis, which was no longer perfect and was still being brewed, Snape's expression changed continuously. After a long while, he finally put on his coat as if he had made up his mind.

That long robe that seemed to never be washed.

"If you can't even take care of yourself, how can you talk about learning magic..."

Snape seemed to be making up for his neglect these past few days. He hurried out of the office and ran into Argus Filch, who was checking some equipment along the way.

He was the janitor of Hogwarts, patrolling at night, and a self-proclaimed Squib of the headmaster—a guy who might be considered pitiful, but certainly not worthy of pity.

"Good morning, Professor Snape."

Filch was always very enthusiastic when he was with the professor.

however.

Snape didn't even glance at him.

I walked right past him.

Filch's smile became slightly awkward, and he didn't dare to make a scene. After Snape walked away, he muttered something and continued his work while holding his cat.

"Hopefully he hasn't starved to death yet."

Snape arrived at Hogsmeade Village.

Standing in front of the cabin.

He didn't need a key; he simply pulled out a spell and easily opened the locked door... It had been locked three times? Snape was somewhat puzzled by the cautiousness of the person living inside.

The village of Hogsmeade has never had any security issues.

He walked in without any expression.

next moment.

The Slytherin Headmaster of Hogwarts immediately understood why the doors had been locked three times. His perpetually unchanging face contorted in disbelief.

"What are you doing?!"

Snape's voice suddenly became as sharp as an oboe.

It's not his fault.

Because he saw something unbelievable, something he had never imagined he would see in this cabin—a huge, huge pit had been dug into the floor of the room!

A young wizard was lying on a crooked, makeshift coffin, struggling to stuff two rotten-looking corpses into it.

Inside the dilapidated house.

There were also three or four other corpses, scattered and in varying degrees of decomposition, lying there quietly—damn it! Could this be a horrific scene in Hogsmeade?!

"Mr. Prince!"

Snape's face turned ashen.

The young wizard looked up in terror. Startled, he even tore off a corpse's arm, which made his face turn even more ashen.

"I need a reasonable explanation for not sending you to Azkaban!!"

This was almost a roar.