A Professor of Magic Chapter 713: The Growth of New Saints

Chapter 713: The Growth of New Saints

After dinner, Professor McGonagall stood up and addressed the students, "First-year students and prefects, please stay behind. Students from other years may leave now to avoid any confusion or ending up in the wrong common room."

The students slowly pushed their chairs back and headed towards the exit. "Does anyone actually get lost on the first day?" Harry curiously asked. "Oh, yes," Hermione hurried over and said, "But it's easily noticed since each bed in the dormitories has the new student's na on it."

At the professors' table, where she had been quiet and spoken little all evening, Emline Vance suddenly spoke up, "We haven't sung the school song." The professors sitting close to her stiffened imdiately.

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat awkwardly, "Ahem, it's not an annual event."

The other professors murmured in agreent, "Yes, yes."

A look of visible disappointnt crossed Emline's face, as if a wish she had held dear was dashed. She calmly said, "I know, it's usually for important occasions. I've only heard it once, during my enrollnt..."

"What was the occasion then?" Felix politely inquired.

"I can't quite rember," Emline shook her head slightly.

Professor Slughorn, beside her, had a reminiscent look. "I seem to have a vague mory... I recall that Peeves caused a chaos in the archive room one year, and so folders were destroyed in a fire, including the score of the school song. That's a very old story... Even before that, the school song hadn't been sung for years, I believe at least seven, because none of the students knew it by then..."

"So the school song has been without a tune since then?" Felix was sowhat surprised to learn this.

"There was one, actually. Later, a copy was found in the library," Slughorn explained, "But Dumbledore thought it sufficient to keep just the lyrics, allowing the lody to be changed at will."

Later—Harry sat on his four-poster bed in the dormitory, taking things out of his trunk one by one. He lifted the lid of the trunk, and a stack of thick parchnt spilled out. Ron picked up a piece that had fallen in front of him, raised his eyebrows, and said, "I didn't know you had developed a hobby of connecting nas with lines. Is there a pattern?"

"They're real," Harry said, "And I plan to write to each of them."

Neville stood behind Ron, looking at the parchnt with his tongue in cheek.

"Is it because of Dumbledore's biography?"

"Yes, seeking so details. Elphias Doge hopes the biography could be as perfect as possible," Harry said. In the following minutes, Ron and Neville excitedly called out familiar nas, treating it like a ga to see who could recognize more nas—usually aning the person ntioned had achieved sothing notable.

Seamus, who was making his bed, looked over and grinned, "Cormac McLaggen is going to be green with envy."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, at the cost of pondering over every word, grammar, and phrasing daily." In reality, Harry's efforts extended far beyond that; he had spent a lot of ti guessing Dumbledore's thoughts at different tis, which was no easy task. Harry had a similar experience—there was a ti he could delve into Voldemort's mind, sensing his emotions and guessing his intentions. Harry felt like he was doing the sa thing now.

"Let's think about sothing more tangible," Ron asked, "What do you think Emline Vance will teach us tomorrow? I never knew she was good at Transfiguration. I thought she specialized in dueling, rember? She was our guard once."

"She's skilled in many subjects," Harry said without hesitation, "Charms, potions, Transfiguration, and she's even invented a few simple but useful spells. Dumbledore held her in high regard."

"That's impressive," Ron said as he carefully placed two wizard chess pieces on the bedside table, then lay down on his bed, "And that centaur—I noticed Trelawney didn't show up all evening, she must be livid."

Harry shrugged, imagining Trelawney in the attic, fuming in front of a mirror. His thoughts then turned to Luna, who was in her sixth year and likely to take Firenze's classes.

At that mont, Neville, who was still standing there, hesitated before speaking.

"Harry, when you have Transfiguration tomorrow, could you call

along?"

Harry looked at Neville in surprise, but then a distant mory was jogged, "Oh, I rember you took the O.W.L.s for Transfiguration last year, so that ans you—"

"Passed!" Neville bead.

Ron sat up abruptly from his bed.

"What grade did you get?"

"Exceeds Expectations," Neville whispered.

A chorus of exclamations echoed around the dormitory.

"That's fantastic." Harry gave a thumbs up as the boys gathered around Neville to celebrate, "So, you're still aiming to be an Auror?"

"How did you manage that, considering Transfiguration was one of your weakest subjects?" Seamus asked him.

"I think it was the Animagus transformation," Neville said softly, "During the practical exam, the examiner said I could be at the front."

"Is the effect really that noticeable? I'm tempted to try," Seamus envied, feeling sowhat enticed as both he and Dean had mastered the Patronus Charm, which could aid in learning to beco an Animagus.

"Neville also worked very hard, spending a lot of ti on it," Harry recalled, struggling to rember exactly what Neville had been doing during that ti but vaguely rembering him spending a lot of ti with Hannah and borrowing notes from Hermione.

"Honestly, it's a bit late now unless you plan to stay back a year," Dean said regretfully, and they discussed this topic for a long ti until going to bed.

"I rember there was a Slytherin Quidditch captain who stayed back a year, what was his na?"

"Marcus," Harry rembered vividly.

"Right, him. He only graduated with one N.E.W.T.s certificate, in Ancient Runes!"

"Amazing, isn't it?"

...

Over the next week, Felix enjoyed a rare period of leisure at the school. As he had ntioned in conversation with the other professors at dinner, after a month of non-stop activity, both he and Babajide Akingbade needed a break. The International Confederation of Wizards wasn't just him, and even if he wanted to, he couldn't solve all the problems at once.

Through Felix's diation, the various Ministries of Magic held off on making any rash moves (they too were waiting for the outco of negotiations in Britain) but reached a consensus on two matters. The first was naturally to mimic the British Ministry of Magic's approach in establishing a Pan-Magic Alliance locally. Felix ntioned this to Mrs. Bones, who imdiately decided to dispatch six experienced squads, with the local Future World company branches providing as much support as they could.

The second matter was equally significant: the preparation for an International Confederation of Wizards convention.

Just like three hundred years ago when representatives from various countries gathered to formulate the "Statute of Secrecy," a new legal frawork was to be established. In addition to the remaining personnel of the International Confederation of Wizards working tirelessly on preparations, senior officials from various Ministries of Magic were also making efforts for this.

A week later, after a short break, Felix left the school. The mory bodies in Classroom Seven were realistic enough to substitute for him in teaching. And for a wizard—especially for him—distance wasn't an issue; he could even return to the school for lunch every day.

When he saw Babajide Akingbade again, he was staring gloomily at the huge world map on the wall.

"Here, here, and these places..." he pointed more than a dozen tis over the continent of Africa, saying, "are all occupied by Grindelwald. He has chosen new young saints there, replacing the original loose organizational form. So wizarding groups attempting to resist or break away from control were brutally crushed."

"The transformations there are much more radical, truly vigorous," Akingbade said.

Felix wasn't surprised, as it was his own doing. He dredged Grindelwald's code from the ruins of history, selecting contents that were still suitable for this era, even sowhat radical, and under his own efforts, Grindelwald's na now carried significant weight, with various analyses about him laid on desks.

anwhile, as a representative of wizarding nationalism, Grindelwald also gained a large following, plunging Akingbade deep into fear and doubt.

"Grindelwald is smarter and more dangerous than we imagined! He's not sitting idly by but trying to break free from the 'Unbreakable Vow' constraints. He's chosen Africa, the most chaotic, to break norms in the na of saving wizards—I know what you're going to say," he addressed Felix, "Even if he's genuinely intending well, his arrogance in believing he's the chosen one to save wizards from dire straits—but you can't deny, his power is expanding rapidly."

"I don't deny that," Felix said.

"So—"

"If we can't attend to it for now, let's leave it to him. Don't you think so of his actions make sense? According to your analysis, Grindelwald's real goal is to streamline over two hundred loose wizarding community organizations into about twenty Ministry-like institutions... In the future, the land there will have higher wizarding cohesion and be easier to manage."

"But he will use the consolidated wizard army against us!"

"There's the vow to limit him..." Felix couldn't recall how many tis he had brought up this argunt, but having said it too often recently, Akingbade still stared at him, forcing Felix to change his approach, "Alright, if necessary, I'll step in to ensure a union between the two."

"How is that possible?" Akingbade exclaid.

"Situations change rapidly, Mr. President. Therefore, anything can happen," Felix said earnestly, "At this stage, Grindelwald's impact on us is minimal. On the contrary, his presence can deter so with malicious intentions—more so than my deterrence."

"If only he were on our side, what a boon that would be," Akingbade sighed, his eyes reflecting a wistful gleam, "He wouldn't just be the man who overturned the Secrecy Law and inflicted deep wounds on the wizarding world by his own hand, but, but..."

What would that be?

Akingbade couldn't quite articulate it. His words weren't ant to defend Grindelwald but expressed regret and remorse.

After realizing he had been deceived, he wished he could smash that detestable, cunning face with his fists. This thought had occupied his mind for weeks, even intensifying upon learning Grindelwald intended to make Africa his stronghold. To him, it was a clear division of camps, splitting the wizarding community, a scher's

ticulously crafted conspiracy.

Unfortunately, Akingbade could only watch, powerless to act or even return to Africa to see the situation of his holand firsthand. He worried that instead of finding people, he'd be taken down by so naless small fry adhering to Grindelwald's ideology, becoming a prisoner and brought before Grindelwald to face ridicule.

Felix, the only one capable of ensuring his safety, steadfastly refused to rush to Africa, focusing instead on Europe and, more precisely, sidelining Arica for the ti being. Akingbade harbored so complaints about this, suspecting Felix feared facing Grindelwald.

But Akingbade had to admit a fact:

From a utilitarian perspective, Felix's actions were beyond reproach, increasingly proving correct over ti. He hadn't rushed into conflict with Grindelwald, flaunting military might (which, to Akingbade, was inconceivable); nor had he wasted ti on the nearly insoluble ss in the Aricas, but instead worked against the clock to rebuild the prestige of the International Confederation of Wizards.

In a month, the Confederation was no longer a shell.

That was Akingbade's view, as well as that of a portion of the wizarding community. If it were Felix, his thoughts would be drastically different—indeed, no one could associate Grindelwald and Felix, two influential figures with contrasting personalities, as essentially two sides of the sa coin.

With Felix intentionally making it so, Africa had almost beco an independent kingdom.

What he did fully aligned with Grindelwald's consistent actions, to the extent that even Vita Rosier, the only one privy to the truth, sotis questioned: Was Felix masquerading as Grindelwald, or was Grindelwald masquerading as Felix Harp?

At least in her view, Grindelwald's ideology was gently consuming the minds and living spaces of African wizards, thriving like wildfire over the past month.

"If not for his physical condition, he might have shone in this era. Of course, if that were the case, it would an I'm completely opposed to him."

Felix mused. As he uttered these words, he had just used his personal force to take down a 'wizarding group that grew in chaos,' with more than fifty wizards lying on the ground, staring up at him with rage.

Felix casually waved his hand, and the new generation of saints stood tall and took orderly control of the area.

"So, whose ideology do you lean towards more? Grindelwald's or Dumbledore's?" Rosier asked softly.

"What ideology?" Felix countered, "I'm here to solve problems."

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