Hogwarts: Voldemort, don't stop me from studying

Chapter 941 The Person Thirsting for Knowledge
The two men were startled, realizing that in their focused conversation and swirling thoughts, it had become completely dark, and they had been oblivious to their surroundings, so much so that they hadn't noticed someone approaching them so closely.

The moon is not visible tonight, and the road is dimly lit. Occasionally, you can see a few streetlights with their lights on, casting a dim yellow beam of light below.

Upon seeing the newcomer, Hughes's face darkened. He swiftly stepped in front of Hawthorne and growled in a low voice:

"Perez!"

"it's me."

Perez gave him a cold glance and said sarcastically:

"Also, for your own good, it's best not to get so agitated—take a good look around you."

Hughes stared intently at his opponent, not letting his guard down for a moment, but Hawthorne next to him suddenly gasped, clearly extremely shocked.

Hughes's eyes darted around quickly, and his heart clenched violently.

In this dim light, a blend of yellow and darkness, floats something that should absolutely not exist—

Light dust.

Countless extremely tiny particles, emitting a soft golden light, floated silently in the air.

They blend into the halo of streetlights, almost imperceptible, yet omnipresent, like a silent, golden mist descending, smaller, denser, and more...real than the gold dust that appears at a banquet.

Like living dust particles, they slowly rise and fall with the imperceptible air currents, tinting the surrounding light with a dreamy yet ominous golden hue.

This space was eerily silent.

The sound of the wind disappeared, and the faint sounds of traffic on the distant streets seemed to have been shut out as well.

The air became thick, and each breath felt like it was being pulled by some invisible obstruction.

Hawthorne gently shook his palm, silently casting a detection spell, and then immediately realized that a large area of ​​anti-Apparition spells had been set up around him.

At this moment, even such a cautious little incantation with almost no noticeable fluctuations attracted some particles to drift leisurely toward him.

As for Hughes, whose movements were even more exaggerated, a considerable amount of gold dust, like a persistent leech, quietly clung to his clothes and hair.

These particles have not yet caused any mutations, but they already bring a chilling, bone-chilling sensation and a heavy sense of oppression.

“Don’t move, Ezra…” Hawthorne whispered, “especially don’t use magic.”

His voice was extremely low, almost a whisper.

Hawthorne stared intently at the slowly flowing golden light around him—he had discovered that those particles were unusually sensitive to fluctuations in magical energy.

Hughes suppressed the urge to attack immediately, his fingers twitched slightly, and he didn't touch the wand in the wand pouch.

He stared intently at Perez, forcing out the question through gritted teeth: "What do you want to do, Perez?"

Perez stood at the boundary between light and shadow, his face, which had always appeared rigid and dull due to managing the Floo Network, now revealed a coldness of desperation.

He gave a slight smirk in response:
"What are you doing? It's just self-defense. I know you're investigating me and preparing to make your move... Do you expect me to be stupid enough to wait for you to deliver the evidence and the Aurors to my office?"

"We're planning to deal with you?" Hawthorne interrupted him, asking, "Where did you get this information?"

Perez did not answer Hawthorne's question. His gaze swept over the two wizards trapped in the golden cage, finally settling on Hawthorne's face, his tone carrying an almost cruel contempt:

"Does it matter who told me? What matters is, Nicklo Hawthorne... How many people do you think still care whether you live or die? An empty shell of a chairman who's about to be ousted?"

He leaned forward slightly, his voice like the flicking of a viper's tongue:
"You disappeared here without a trace... Many people will applaud, and those opportunists in Congress will even feel relieved." "No one will shed a tear for you, Nicklo... No one cares about you. Your 'disappearance' is a relief for everyone."

The last trace of warmth on Hawthorne's face faded.

He showed no anger, offered no explanation, and simply stood there quietly, as if the pathetic character Perez spoke of had nothing to do with him.

But what remained in those eyes was a chilling coldness more terrifying than anger.

Ezra Hughes' muscles were taut, and his eyes blazed with an almost palpable killing intent that could no longer be concealed.

“Don’t look at me like that, Hughes!” Perez sneered. “How could you, a guy who’s willing to be Hawthorne’s dog, possibly understand my ideals and aspirations?”

He paced back and forth under the paulownia tree not far away, saying indignantly:

"All of this could have been avoided... You've driven me down this path!"

"Why must you doubt me? Although I have some dealings with Muggles, I haven't really caused any harm to the wizarding world over the years! Everything has been within control!"

"As for those guys who were captured by Muggles for experiments... they're either criminals or homeless people, mostly Muggles! I just sent a few scourges of the magical world there!"

—But until five minutes ago, no one here suspected you.

Hughes and Hawthorne thought to themselves.

They looked at Perez as if he were a pathetic fool, knowing all too well—

Perez, the director of the Floo Network Administration who was obsessed with time magic and had indeed committed crimes, was nothing more than a pawn that Leila Picqueri casually threw out to attract attention and kill someone else.

Lyra exploited his desires and fears, giving him a false message that led him to take a risky action.

But at this moment, after Perez has already made his move, there is no point in arguing about these things; only a life-or-death struggle remains between them.

"You don't understand at all!"

Perhaps it was the silent, sharp gazes of the two men that stung him, for Perez's voice suddenly became agitated:
"Time! That is the ultimate mystery of magic! Only vulgar people shun it; only truly intelligent people thirst to unravel the greatest mystery in the world!"

"But no matter how I apply, no matter how I prove my abilities and loyalty, the Magic Congress—you people—always use ridiculous words like 'dangerous,' 'taboo,' and 'ethics' to keep me out!"

"It's as if the world would be torn apart if I touched that mysterious space hidden underground!"

A fanatical light gleamed in his eyes:
"After being rejected time and time again, I finally realized that unless I became the president of the Magic Congress, I would never have the opportunity to come into contact with this mysterious magic!"

"But this power doesn't only exist in the United States! In other countries, in those ancient and isolated places, there must also be secrets of time hidden beneath their secret affairs departments!"

As he spoke, a twitching smile first appeared at the corner of his mouth, but then his expression turned sinister as he recalled the past:
“I turned my attention to some small countries… but those primitive, barbaric, xenophobic little places! They would rather let their secrets rot than allow an ‘outsider,’ especially an American wizard, to get close! I offered exchanges, I offered cooperation… but they refused, they all refused!”

He waved his arms and loudly accused:
"You forced me to this! It's the rigid and stupid rules of the magical world that forced me to this! I don't want to cooperate with those greedy, short-sighted Muggles! I don't want to get involved in those dirty money and power deals!"

“But when I was at my wit’s end, ‘Prometheus’ reached out a hand… They understood my pursuit, they provided resources, they even… were willing to share the fruits of their labor.”

"I have to say... there are indeed some smart people in the Muggles... extremely smart, even making me jealous!"

"But they helped me... a great deal—something you would never give me even a fraction of! They even started a war for my wishes!"

He was panting, looking at Hawthorne and Hughes with an expression that was a mixture of self-pity and resentment:
“I had no choice! It was you…it was the magical world that abandoned my pursuit of truth! All I wanted was to know more, to touch the essence of time with my own hands, what’s wrong with that?!”

(End of this chapter)