A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts - Chapter 432: Fleeting Victory

Emerging from Professor Flitwick’s office, Felix found an opportunity to have a private moment with Snape.

“So… does this mean… Barty Crouch Jr. wasn’t prepared to poison us and kill everyone?” Felix asked, curious about the potion that Barty Crouch Jr. was brewing in the Chamber of Secrets.

“He had to be extremely careful to evade the hundreds of eyes in the kitchen,” Snape squinted as he spoke, “It was an emergency potion, prolonging the lives of the dying. I recognized unicorn blood, various toxic materials, and an unknown snake venom.”

“Sounds like a curse?” Felix queried.

“Close. It’s an excruciating process, but the effects are evident,” Snape said, opening the door to his office. Not much had changed in his office; it remained dimly lit, shelves lined with numerous glass specimen jars.

Thinking of the agonizing sounds he heard in the Crouch residence, Felix understood the implication. Glancing around, he expressed dissatisfaction, “I recall gifting you a magical lamp…”

“A competent potion maker doesn’t easily alter their living conditions,” Snape calmly remarked, his gaze drifting over the assortment of jars on the wall, “Besides, there’s something you missed in the product description: the light emitted by the lamp affects certain dark creatures.”

Felix pondered; indeed, the lamp worked by solidifying an illumination spell that slowly released, capable of dispelling mist and warding off dark creatures.

However, this added effect wasn’t potent enough; it couldn’t even harm the lowest level of inferi.

“Rimeus is unaffected,” Felix commented.

“Unlike a werewolf—potion ingredients are delicate, requiring specific spells to preserve their magical essence. I recall discussing these in class?” Snape remarked.

“One person’s energy is limited, and since I know you and Belby, I’m not keen on investing too much effort into potions. Understanding necessary knowledge, like antidotes, suffices for me,” smoothly replied Felix. “How about we discuss ancient magical scripts?”

Snape shot him a glance, “I placed the lamp in my bedroom.”

Shrugging, Felix discovered a suspicious corner in the office—a half-filled bucket of greyish slime, sealed with a transparent lid. He bent down to examine it, “Is this collected from a Blast-Ended Skrewt?”

“It has a mild corrosive nature, and I haven’t found a way to neutralize its properties yet,” Snape murmured.

“How about using the illumination spell?” Felix suggested.

Snape, caught off guard, seemed to consider the possibility, standing still, “It… might work… worth a try…”

Quickly, he extracted a few droplets from the bucket. As he opened the lid, a pungent odor filled the room instantly, prompting Felix to cloak himself in a human form iron armor charm, having replaced it for the bubble head charm.

“Need any help?” Felix asked through the magic, Snape pale but hands remarkably steady.

“No need,” Snape managed to utter, caught a whiff, his complexion worsening, throat involuntarily twitching. Swiftly, he sealed the lid with magic as Felix conjured a whirlwind, expelling the foul air into the office corridor.

Hope that no wizard who had just eaten dinner would pass by.

Struggling to breathe, Snape transferred the moist slime into a small glass bottle, hurriedly sealing it. Taking a deep breath after completion, he exhaled heavily.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Felix’s palm held a ping-pong ball-sized sphere emitting a faint white glow, looking like a luminous glass ball except for the superficial light halo, resembling a luminous glass ball.

Snape directed the small glass bottle towards Felix, who guided the sphere closer. Effortlessly, the sphere slipped into the bottle, and Felix swiftly cast a spell on its outer surface, preventing the sphere’s dispersion.

Released from Felix’s control, the sphere expanded within the bottle, filling its entire space—

“It seems to have no effect,” Snape uncertainly remarked after a while.

“The light from the illumination spell is gentle; even if released close to the face, it might cause dizziness or eye strain but won’t damage the eyes,” Felix explained.

He had settled back on the sofa, casually picking up a book, flipping through it, “Wait, let the magic slowly take effect. Sometimes, the process of saturating materials with magic alone could take months.”

Staring at the small glass bottle for a while, Snape’s eyes suddenly gleamed.

Startled, Felix thought he might say something sharp, but Snape eagerly said, “Let’s try several times! Use different conditions to compare them.”

“Oh…” Felix drawled, not eager to see that sticky substance again. “Wait.” He muttered, taking a serpent’s tail ring from his ring. Under Snape’s eerie gaze, he soon conjured around a dozen orbs emitting a faint white light.

Then, the serpent’s tail on his hand started to move, one by one, ingesting all these orbs. Then, it twisted back, hovering at Felix’s palm, transforming back into a ring.

Handing the serpent’s tail ring to Snape, Felix explained, “It stores ancient magical scripts, primarily because its material effectively isolates magic, significantly reducing its dispersion… so it can be used to store illumination spells too.”

Snape took it, glancing briefly, “Serpentine scales?”

Felix nodded.

…

Returning to his office, Valen immediately rushed over, tugging at Felix’s clothes, attempting to climb up. However, its actions abruptly stopped.

It retracted its tiny hands, lightly twitching its nose. Its little face wrinkled, glaring at Felix accusingly.

Perplexed, Felix sniffed his clothes, “Is there a smell?”

Valen vigorously nodded, gesturing a gagging motion.

“Probably the smell of Blast-Ended Skrewt larvae slime,” Felix guessed, “Your nose is incredibly sharp; I’ve even used a human form iron armor charm, yet you can still smell it…”

Valen looked smug.

Felix cleansed himself magically, and Valen cautiously sniffed, confirming the absence of the unpleasant odor before leaping into his arms.

At that moment, Felix, holding Valen, pondered—such a sensitive nose shouldn’t be wasted. Maybe adding some ‘extracurricular practice’ outside regular literacy courses would be worthwhile?

In the evening, Harry came over to learn Occlumency.

During the Christmas break, Felix systematically explained the techniques of Occlumency to Harry, who seemed rather lost. Eventually, Felix had to let him continue reading the magical book.

Harry visited every other day, sometimes coinciding with Hermione. However, by their fourth year, Hermione didn’t come every week, her mastery of ancient magical scripts surpassing anyone except Felix.

At her current level, even if she stopped advancing, she’d have more than enough to become a professor after graduation. Hence, Felix merely assigned tasks and occasionally clarified doubts for his assistant.

Harry flipped the magic book to page five, disdainfully staring at the wizard portrait. He wasn’t unfamiliar with this portrait—he had seen it in the restricted section and Ron thought it resembled Draco Malfoy.

But this time, the feeling was completely different. In a daze, Harry noticed the wizard’s face seemed to morph into his own, enduring torment in place of the wizard… his heavy breaths spraying onto the wizard, feeling as if his skin

was being assaulted by a hurricane.

He held his breath, face flushed, constantly reminding himself that this was Professor Snape’s magic at work. He was quite adept at it…

He knew his body hadn’t sustained any harm, but his mind was flooded with entirely contradictory emotions.

“I can’t continue this… I have to stop this feeling, or I’ll surely go mad… Let me think, the basic method of Occlumency is to… calm the mind, empty the brain… breathe… breathe… it’s too hard,” Harry felt as if he’d been thrown into a Blast-Ended Skrewt’s nest, its larvae crawling all over him, their tails spewing sparks, causing an itchy and painful sensation…

I have to empty my mind… empty my mind…

But why should I! Harry thought furiously. Suddenly, an intense surge of anger flooded him, breaking free from the magical constraint. He saw his surroundings clearly—he didn’t know when he had stood up, the magic book lay at his feet, and he was panting heavily.

Professor Snape’s voice came from behind the office desk’s chair:

“If used correctly, anger isn’t a bad method. However, obviously, anger isn’t a sustainable emotion, and people aren’t gunpowder; they can’t explode anytime, anywhere. But… not bad, you passed this time.”

Harry found little comfort in those words, despondently asking, “Am I really that terrible?”

Felix looked at him with great understanding. “The Occlumency is an extremely challenging spell. Many wizards struggle with it their whole lives. The best way to learn is to repeatedly experience the sensation of being ‘invaded.’ Of course, it’s hard to gauge the extent, but I happen to have some insights…”

Harry had no clue that the ‘insights’ the professor referred to involved invading others’ minds. This experience stemmed from Felix’s solitary travels for a year, during which, with the ‘help’ of numerous dark wizards, he painstakingly grasped the rudiments of the Mind Enclosure spell.

Now, all the effort seemed worth it. This magic had undergone a tremendous transformation.

Harry could only take Felix’s words at face value. He sat down, contemplating playing a round of Exploding Snap with Valen to ease the tension. But when he found himself losing to Valen, his mood soured even more.

This led to his return to the common room, his expression still glum.

“Is the book really that terrifying?” Ron asked quietly, slipping Harry a bottle of butterbeer. “Fred and George went to Hogsmeade last time and demanded five Sickles for it!”

“Yeah, three brooms only fetched two Sickles,” Harry said dully. He was in a bad state now, finding it hard to muster any sympathy for Ron. He took a sip of the butterbeer; the thick foam revitalized him, making him feel rejuvenated inside out.

“Tell me more about the book, Harry,” Ron pressed, locking eyes with him.

“Well… you need to confront a lot of awful emotions and try your best to prevent them from affecting you… it’s just really scary,” Harry said intermittently, seizing the chance to finish his butterbeer.

He glanced regretfully at the empty bottle, contemplating whether to find Fred and George. If he could have a warm butterbeer after every practice session, perhaps it wouldn’t be so tough?

“The professor is right,” Hermione chimed in from the side, lifting her head from a large book. “I’ve read its theories. Even those who’ve mastered Occlumency might not be able to explain how they learned it; they usually learn passively.”

“Passive learning?” Ron looked puzzled.

“Being invaded,” Harry said, recounting the professor’s words to Ron. “The best way to learn is to repeatedly experience the sensation of being ‘invaded.’ I guess it’s to make the mind sharp enough.”

Ron’s enthusiasm visibly waned.

“Do you want to learn this?” Harry asked, not quite comprehending the desire. Ron chuckled awkwardly, saying, “Isn’t this spell supposed to be really difficult? I thought, if I learned it…”

“Would be prestigious to brag about,” Hermione supplemented for him.

“There’s actually a simple way,” Harry proposed. “Remember my Pensieve toy? The professor said it’s like a rudimentary spellbook. If you want to try, I can lend it to you.” The toy was currently locked away in his trunk.

Ron seemed intrigued but after some contemplation, he gave up. Leaning on the table, he muttered, “I’ll focus on studying the spells for the second task. Should I learn the Bubble-Head Charm or the Disillusionment Charm first?”

“The Bubble-Head Charm is for higher years,” Hermione reminded him.

“But the Human-Levitation Charm isn’t easy either, and I haven’t met the prerequisites,” Ron groaned. “I feel like I’ll drown, Harry, I’ll be the first eliminated champion.”

“Don’t think like that,” Fred’s voice suddenly chimed in, plopping down next to Ron. He grinned mischievously. “Stay positive. Maybe Eeylops will end up at the bottom again.”

“I suggest you practice swimming just in case; it’d be embarrassing to tire out halfway,” George grinned.

“You’ve reminded me,” Hermione said. “I’ve been so focused on the magical aspects.” She took out a small notebook from her bag, jotting down George’s advice. Harry knew it was Hermione’s plan to tackle the second task, already half-filled with plans they hadn’t had the courage to explore yet.

At that moment, Ron suddenly looked up, as if struck by something, staring blankly at Fred and George.

“Do you guys know the Bubble-Head Charm?” Ron asked straightforwardly.

“Oh… of course, it’s a must-have spell for pranks. We had some mishaps in the past…” Fred said, somewhat nostalgic.

“Teach me,” Ron demanded.

“What?” Fred and George exchanged glances.

“Teach me the Bubble-Head Charm,” Ron repeated.

Fred and George exchanged quick looks, then Fred said, “Listen, we’re really busy. We’ve got a dozen products to perfect—”

“Fine,” Ron said decisively, then muttered loud enough for everyone to hear, “I haven’t written home in ages. Mum must be worried, and she might know the Bubble-Head Charm. She could give me some pointers…”

Fred and George stared at Ron, as if seeing him in a new light.

The two silently communicated with their eyes, and after a moment, Fred exclaimed in frustration, “Alright, you win, little Ronnie.”

Ron flashed a victorious smile.

As the two left, still basking in the joy of victory, Harry couldn’t shake off the feeling that coercing others for training wasn’t a good idea. He knew this firsthand from his specialized training with Professor Snape—despite Professor Snape’s relative kindness, the days were grueling. If it were Snape teaching him under these circumstances, Harry couldn’t imagine what he’d endure.

He had a hunch that Fred and George would devise all sorts of odd ways to prank Ron, and the crucial part was that Ron had brought it upon himself.

Seeing Ron’s satisfied expression, though, Harry decided to postpone sharing his concerns.

Late at night, as Harry lay tossing and turning, unable to sleep with Ron and Neville’s intermittent snores filling his ears, he thought that letting Ron try might not be such a bad idea after all. He could use this time to figure out comforting words to offer him in advance…

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