A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts - Chapter 479: Night at the Ministry of Magic - (2)

“Apologies.” Broderick Bode slumped against the shelf, a crimson flash. Felix had taken some time to bring the unconscious wizard from the Atrium here, keeping him company with his colleagues, while the howler bird lurked in the shadows above the hall’s ceiling.

Walking out from the Prophecy Hall, his vision momentarily blurred. A peculiar sense of familiarity surged within him, as if something closely related to him was here… Felix closed his eyes and navigated towards a particular shelf, guided by instinct.

Upon opening his eyes, he found a brightly shining silver glass sphere at his eye level. It gleamed more than the surrounding prophecies and notably had less dust. As he approached, its flickering rhythm seemed to welcome his arrival.

Reading the label, Felix saw a date from two years ago, followed by a string of characters: S.P.T. to H.J.P. (Pending Verification). Prepared for any resistance, he reached out, taking the prophecy from the shelf, surprised by the lack of any hindrance.

Staring at it, the sensation of the prophecy sphere clashed with the icy room. Warm and radiant, it felt like basking in hours of sunlight. Simultaneously, a hoarse voice echoed in his mind—

“An unprecedented turning… a legendary drama unfolds… Ho! The jester returns to the drumbeat, warriors stand ready, the lion ages, and the phoenix is reborn… Time! Time!”

Felix couldn’t help but tighten his grip on the prophecy, listening again.

“Jester, warrior, lion, phoenix… what do they all signify?” Without much time to ponder, almost twenty minutes had passed since he arrived at the Ministry until now. He briskly departed, sketching a circle on the black door.

As the revolving wall ceased, Felix hurried into the next room. At the moment of pushing the door, he realized he had finally found the right place—amidst the cacophony of hundreds of voices merging into a symphony of dazzling, diamond-like flashes, he saw various clocks, alarm clocks, timepieces, floor-standing grand clocks, and ancient sundial-like artifacts… hung on walls, placed on the floor, or set on long tables and shelves.

On a cupboard with a glass front, the wall behind adorned various hourglasses.

Normally composed, Felix’s face showed excitement. These were hourglasses used for time conversion, and—his gaze skimmed over folders on the shelf, drawers under the table, and settled on a towering crystal glass cover at the end of the room.

Different from other chambers, this crystal cover was the sole source of light. It emanated those dazzling flashes, and inside, it surged with a turbulent, glowing airflow.

That was temporal energy.

“Time… time…” Felix murmured softly, understanding somewhat why that prophecy sphere had a particular allure for him. “Because I am part of a prophecy.” He closed his eyes. “So, who am I? The lion and the phoenix are unlikely, leaving only… the jester? Or the warrior? Or—are they all here because of me?” His eyes snapped open, shallow blue pupils turned into deep silver flames, burning vividly, filling his sockets.

The black floor was blanketed in a silver glow, a scene reminiscent of earlier. Felix extracted his mental chamber, but this time, he exerted all his effort. Ghostly apparitions emerged from him, fragments of his thoughts, pinnacle creations of memory magic. These ‘beings’ dispersed, rummaging through folders on shelves, or in drawers, meticulously studying.

Felix himself gazed at the clock-shaped crystal cover. Soon, the first ghostly form returned a folder to the shelf, merging back into him. Felix’s body suddenly stiffened. After two minutes, he had processed that knowledge.

But subsequently, the second and third apparitions returned. This time, Felix froze for five minutes, akin to a statue made of mud. He sighed, accepting fate as he retrieved Ravenclaw’s diadem, long untouched from his ring, mockingly saying, “Should I thank Valen for leaving this?” He donned the diadem, a wave of coolness encompassing him.

More apparitions approached…

At dawn, Felix held a levitating hourglass in his hand. The crystal cover in front of him was open, wisps of airflow pouring into the hourglass—this was his exhaustive effort overnight, barely delving into the realm of time, yet this tiny step unveiled the secret of replenishing hourglass energy.

He combed through the Ministry’s records on time travel experiments—more detailed than what Nicolas Flamel had gathered, including firsthand accounts from time travelers. For instance, the experiences of Eloise Mintab, who journeyed back five centuries, were significant. Her chronicle filled twelve parchment sheets, with thirty drawers full of analyses and speculations about those twelve sheets.

…

When Felix paused, the floating hourglass slipped in his grasp, its white sand tinged with a layer of golden substance.

“The energy from one hourglass may not suffice, and two have their issues. I need more preparation.” He turned back, gazing at the diverse hourglasses hanging in the cupboard, murmuring softly, “Just temporary borrowings.”

He waved his hand, and the cupboard’s glass front opened, countless hourglasses flying towards Felix… After an unknown duration, hundreds of hourglasses floated askew around Felix. The cost? The cupboard was now empty, the crystal cover dim and lifeless.

His magic was almost spent.

At that moment, Felix abruptly raised his head, eyes fixed in one direction. His echoing bird had been triggered!

Gathering all the hourglasses, he touched his face. The effects of the compound potion had long faded. He wrapped himself in a cloak, donned a hood, and left the Time Room.

In the circular chamber, a Silent Seeker was stooped, examining the wreckage on the ground. Everything happened so suddenly; as he entered, a fireball plummeted from the sky. Startled, he thought it was an attack until he saw the intricate structure within the flames.

An alchemical item? Who brought it? He pondered, then suddenly felt extremely dizzy, the final image in his mind, the smoldering debris vanishing abruptly, and a pair of feet swiftly passing by.

Felix had employed human transfiguration, making himself considerably shorter, his face now ginger-colored. He rode an elevator to the Ministry Hall, silently relieved.

Disguises were now possible! But his current condition was at its worst. If he were to split…

One step at a time towards the fireplace area, he glanced at the time. Not too late.

“Sir! Sir!”

A guard’s voice sounded from behind, attempting to halt Felix. His peculiar attire had aroused suspicion. However, he had to keep his hood on; if he removed it, he’d immediately faint.

Felix quickened his pace without a word.

“Sir! Sir—” the guard called twice more as Felix approached the fireplace—the fire was already burning to accommodate the Ministry’s staff arriving for work.

The guard urgently blew a whistle.

Steps closing in, a dozen guards swiftly ran towards Felix, wands drawn.

“The elusive visitor, whoever you are, surrender now!” one shouted. Felix’s response was a dazzling crimson light, sending the speaker flying.

“Attack!” Other guards didn’t hold back, various beams of light assaulting him.

Felix cast a suit of armor spell upon himself, diving into the fireplace’s flames. The incoming spells crashed against the magical shield protecting him, but he disappeared from sight.

Outside the fireplace, in a muggle bookstore on Diagon Alley, a hooded figure staggered out, collapsing on the ground in exhaustion, the diadem slipping from his head.

“I need… rest,” Felix gasped, unable to hold consciousness any longer, slipping into the realm of dreams and visions.

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