Harry Potter and the Great Old Ones

Chapter 468 Single

Of course, the news of the mass escape of the Death Eaters from Azkaban shocked not only the students but also the teachers—

To be precise, it refers to the majority of teachers.

Although Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were engaged in close conversation, both wore an inexplicably relaxed expression, and even seemed to have the leisure to lightly clink their wine glasses together.

Professor Sprout leaned the Daily Prophet against a ketchup jar and was engrossed in reading the first edition, his spoon held high in the air, so engrossed that he didn't even notice the egg yolk dripping onto his leg.

Professor Umbridge, at the other end of the table, gulped down her cereal. For the first time, her toad-like eyes didn't search the Great Hall for misbehaving students. She ate with a frown, occasionally glancing maliciously at Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.

“Dumbledore looks so relaxed,” Hermione said, looking up and frowning. “Why does he look so relaxed?”

“Who knows?” Ron said, grabbing another piece of cake. “Maybe he has some kind of plan.”

“Then you shouldn’t eat it.” Hermione tugged at Ron and said, “There’s still some time before class. Help me carry these exercises back to the common room. We’ll try to copy them before tonight’s Dumbledore’s Army training and then distribute them.”

"So fast?" Ron exclaimed again. "Why the rush? We can do it tonight!"

“We must also take action,” Hermione said resolutely. “Tierra and Dumbledore clearly have their own plans. We may not be able to help them much, but what we can do now is to improve ourselves as much as possible and not hold them back.”

“But we’re still students…” Ron said, dissatisfied. “And we still have OWLs exams to prepare for.”

“Yes, we are students, but we are in the middle of a war,” Hermione said. “War doesn’t care if you are old or young, a student or a teacher; it will take everything it encounters into it.”

“So stop complaining, we have to be prepared,” Hermione said.

……

“Look how sensible your little girlfriend is!” Wu Peirong teased Tiera, who was sitting opposite her. “Speaking of which, you’re not young anymore. When I was your age, my parents had already arranged my marriage to my first fiancé.”

Nick Flamel, Wu Peirong, Tyella, Slytherin, Maka Farr Monkasha, and Chief Thunderbird sat casually and scattered in the empty Great Hall of Hogwarts, enjoying their breakfast.

Through the rows of tall, magnificent windows in the Great Hall, a completely different scene of Hogwarts was revealed—

A sunny, lively, and bustling Hogwarts.

After Christmas, the centenarians did not leave, but stayed at Hogwarts to continue participating in Tyrell's next plan.

To make it easier for the elderly to eat and live, Tierra simply used her spatial authority to divide the space of the Scottish Highlands where Hogwarts was located into two parts. In any case, the space here was stable and would not collapse after being divided into two parts.

The students and teachers of Hogwarts live in a normal space, which is no different from the usual Hogwarts. There are all kinds of ghosts, Peeves who gives all the teachers a headache, murals that walk around, ingenious magical mechanisms, and the Room of Requirement that can appear and disappear at any time...

Tiera, along with several centenarians, lived in a space carved out by Tiera. To ensure the normal operation of the main space, Tiera reserved all the spiritual dimensions and most of the material dimensions for the main space, carving out only a small portion of the material dimension.

Therefore, compared to the normal Hogwarts Castle, the space divided by Tyrell appears somewhat dark and dilapidated, even though it is morning and the entire castle is bathed in sunlight that seems like dusk.

Most of the ever-burning magic lamps floating on the ceiling of Hogwarts have gone out due to the lack of a spiritual dimension, with only a few lamps burning forlornly, powered by Tyella's magic.

“Your husband, who’s been married for hundreds of years, is sitting right across from you,” Tierra reminded Wu Peirong when she said that. “What’s there to be afraid of?” Wu Peirong patted Tierra on the shoulder and said, “He didn’t live as long as Lemaître. He died in his fifties, and we can’t even find his grave.”

“When Lemaître was your age, he flirted with his senior from high school,” Wu Peirong said again. “I’m not jealous; she didn’t live as long as me.”

"Ahem..." Nicholas Lemaître coughed awkwardly but politely, "It's all ancient history, all ancient history..."

“Hehe…” Tierra chuckled, then asked curiously, “So how did you meet Mr. Nicholas Flamel?”

“I ran away from my arranged marriage,” Wu Peirong said with a smile, then reached out and tapped Tiera on the forehead with a force that belied her age of over six hundred. “Don’t interrupt. We’re talking about your girlfriend. You two are in a free-love relationship now, much happier than we were back then. You’d better hurry up and find a wife as virtuous and understanding as her.”

"Hehe..." Tyella smiled helplessly, "Forget it, Hermione and I might have had a chance before we became gods, but now it's better to forget it."

"Why did you give up?" Wu Peirong asked curiously.

“She’s so boring,” Tierra said with a sigh, putting down her knife and fork. “Or rather… you’re all so boring.”

“You are now in a three-dimensional world,” Tiera said. “From your perspective, you observe a person based on their age, appearance, height, weight, or magical level.”

“But I see you,” Tiera said. “I can see your thoughts, your past and your future, your karma and your destiny.”

“You are like books, placed on a bookshelf called destiny.” Tierra stretched out his hand and gently placed it on Wu Peirong’s hand—

In an instant, countless images flashed before Wu Peirong's eyes—

Her birth, childhood, growth, escape, her first use of magic, her first magical duel, her first injury, her first encounter with Nicholas Flamel...

All the scenes of her life flashed by in an instant.

Then, Tiera raised her hand and slowly withdrew it.

“I know each and every one of you too well,” Tierra said. “To the point that it’s become a little boring.”

“Indeed, I like Hermione a lot, but not in a romantic way…” Tierra said. “To be precise, I like Hermione… like I like a beautiful book, or a fine hat, or a beautiful dress.”

“Yes, of course, I can like her, I can love her,” Tiera said with a light laugh. “But what good would that do her? Or rather, what would my love bring her?”

"I can give her anything, I can change her destiny—"

“Not just the future, but also the past. I can make her a descendant of Merlin, I can make her a lost treasure of King Arthur, I can give her magical talent far surpassing anyone else, I can make her the queen of the magical world and even the British Isles, but what is the point of that?”

"She was originally an eagle soaring through the sky, but my love will turn her into a plump old hen."

"I like her, regardless of her looks, weight, height, background, or education... I like her courage, I like her resilience, I like the brilliance she shines in adversity, I like the burning spark in her heart."

(End of this chapter)