A day at Hogwarts.

Chapter 694 Immature Speculation
Charles walked along the newly paved, winding cobblestone path, eventually stopping in front of a three-story building in the 18th-century French Rococo style.

A brass bell hung beside the wooden gate of the garden fence. He gently pulled it, and the clear sound carried far into the quiet night sky.

The door was quickly opened, and a woman stood in the doorway.

Tonight, Mrs. Angelina Jolie wore her hair meticulously styled into an elegant updo, dressed in a deep purple robe, and adorned with a moonstone necklace, exuding a remarkable aura.

“Charles?” she asked uncertainly. “Is that you?”

Logically, Charles should be doing his homework at Hogwarts right now, not in the south of France.

Therefore, Mrs. Angelina was somewhat unsure if the person who came was him, and decided to confirm before proceeding.

Charles scratched his head and said, "Sorry to bother you so late."

"I need your help with something. By the way, please don't tell Professor Delacour."

Mrs. Angelina shook her head helplessly, made way for the door, and said, "You'd better come to me if you need anything, or you'll be put in solitary confinement."

Charles chuckled and said, "I'm sure what I'm about to say will satisfy you."

Lady Angelina waved her wand and made him a cup of fragrant fruit tea.

She said, "You've come at just the right time. I just got back from a dinner party and was planning to go to Spain tomorrow."

Charles took the teacup, took a sip, and without much small talk, went straight to the point.

He mentioned the ruins hidden deep outside Hogwarts Castle, the wall depicting various races living together, the huge study, the ancient portraits that could still communicate, and the mysterious figure in the painting who claimed to have been expelled from Slytherin.

When Charles described the old Norman French used in the portrait, and how it mentioned contemporaries of the four founders of the school, and even the "Slytherin conspiracy" and the deaths of Ravenclaw and her mother, Lady Angelina's expression, which had been listening calmly, finally changed.

Her fingers tightened slightly as she held the teacup, and a near-fiery light shone from her insightful eyes.

Although Lady Angelina was not a historian specializing in Hogwarts history, she was still thrilled to receive such valuable historical material that filled in the gaps in her knowledge.

“Expelled by Salazar Slytherin himself?” she murmured, her blue eyes deepening. “A portrait of someone who existed a thousand years ago, retaining a clear consciousness and memory, able to converse with you, and give you tasks—that’s incredible!”

"The art of magical oil painting was far from mature when Hogwarts was founded. Those who could achieve this level of skill must have been extraordinary individuals, either the prototypes or the creators."

She put down her teacup, looked sharply at Charles, and said, "Charles, do you realize what you've discovered?"

"This may be the key to filling the gaps in the early history of Hogwarts, and even overturning some established knowledge. Many legends we are familiar with are confirmed or disproven here."

"And the books there, if they are magic books, will provide extremely valuable documentary materials for the study of the history of magic."

"This is an academic gap, maybe it would be good for me to change my research direction."

Charles nodded and said, “I understand, so I need to complete his test and acquire the knowledge he promised.”

"This requires tokens from the five races, including hair that the Veela voluntarily gave away."

He had thought that the request would seem abrupt, and might even touch on certain taboos related to bloodlines or culture.

Because Fleur's wand core was made from Lady Angelina's hair, it can be seen that it was a precious magical material that would not be given away easily.

However, Mrs. Angelina's reaction once again surprised him. She showed no sign of offense; instead, she treated it as if it were a perfectly reasonable request for academic collaboration.

She looked at Charles thoughtfully, her eyes sparkling with the intense desire for truth characteristic of a scholar.

“So, that portrait put forward such a condition…” she mused, her fingertips lightly tapping the armrest of the sofa. “It’s very interesting. It’s not just a token, but more like a form of recognition.”

"Based on the content of the murals on the wall and the traces of life you mentioned, this should be a test of your ability to communicate with different magical beings and gain their trust."

"This is perhaps what he values."

Charles nodded and said, "That's what I think too."

"I have a hypothesis about his purpose, but it's not mature yet and I need more evidence."

After hearing this, Mrs. Angelina said curiously, "Why don't you tell me?"

Charles took a sip of tea to organize his thoughts, then said, "I suspect he might be trying to combine the magic of different races."

Mrs. Angelina was taken aback upon hearing this, then seemed to realize something. Her gaze became firm and sincere as she solemnly said, "Charles, I am willing to help you."

"It's not just for this lock of hair, but also for the secret you spoke of, a secret buried by the dust of history."

"In return, I hope you will share with me when you unravel the mystery of the portrait's identity or obtain any valuable historical information."

“I have spent my life studying history, especially those forgotten corners, and this discovery is of great significance to me.”

“No problem, madam,” Charles solemnly promised. “Your help was invaluable, and sharing the findings is the right reward.”

Mrs. Angelina smiled with satisfaction.

Without the slightest hesitation, she raised her hand to the space between her eyebrows, carefully selected three long strands of hair, not just randomly pulling them out, but with an almost ritualistic solemnity.

Even under indoor lighting, these three strands of hair seemed to contain a faint glow.

Mrs. Angelina gently placed the few strands of hair in an envelope lined with soft velvet that she always kept on her desk.

“Take it, Charles.” Her voice was gentle yet firm. “This is not just a token, but also carries my blessings and expectations for your pursuit of the truth.”

Charles solemnly accepted the envelope, feeling the almost negligible weight of those few strands of hair, yet understanding the weight of this promise in his heart.

He not only took another step closer to his goal, but it also seemed to open a window to the past for a dedicated historian.

“Thank you for your trust, Mrs. Angelina.” He stood up and thanked her sincerely. “I will keep my promise.”

Mrs. Angelina also stood up and saw him to the door.

“Go, Charles, and be careful. The truth of history is sometimes more dangerous and more fascinating than the most complex spells.”

She stood at the doorway, watching the young visitor's figure disappear at the end of the path.

(End of this chapter)