A magical journey that begins at Hogwarts

"They forced us to stand on the opposite side of Voldemort, not even giving us a chance to make peace." Aaron chuckled. "Originally, I only had some suspicions, but our Professor Lupin actually knew that the Gaius family had produced a god of magic!"

I don't recall ever telling him any family secrets. How did he know?

“Two possibilities.” The thought entity held up two fingers. “First, he is investigating the Gaius family just like Voldemort, but this can be basically ruled out.”

Remus John Lupin is a werewolf, and I'm not being racist, but werewolves don't have Voldemort's resources, so it's absolutely impossible for him to find out Gaius's secret.

Then there's only one other possibility: nothing that happened in the Bureau of Mysteries escaped their notice; that's the only explanation.

Logically speaking, Professor Snape should have notified the Order of the Phoenix long ago, as Harry and the others, as well as we, all placed most of our hopes on the support of the Order of the Phoenix.

But they didn't come earlier or later; they just happened to arrive right when we were signing the truce agreement.

“That’s absolutely right.” Aaron nodded in deep agreement. “Plus, Professor Snape’s attitude towards us tonight—his complicated expression, his hesitation, and the faint guilt in his eyes—it all speaks volumes.”

"Albus Dumbledore," the thought-provoking entity muttered, both angry and exasperated. "That old bastard truly deserves to die!"

“Whether he deserves to die or not, he has achieved his goal.” Aaron shrugged. “We have been successfully dragged into this mess, and there are only two ways to get back to shore.”

It's either get on board, the Order of the Phoenix's pirate ship, or swim on your own; getting on board is easier.

No matter which path we choose, Voldemort and his Death Eaters are an obstacle we must overcome.

"Heh!" The thought-provoking entity chuckled self-deprecatingly. "The Dark Lord is pathetic. He thought he was on the second level, that he had tricked Harry Potter into getting the prophecy, and that he had dragged us into his trap."

We were ridiculous; we thought we were on the fifth level, having revealed most of our trump cards, but we didn't even have enough time to develop.

Only that old geezer Dumbledore actually stood in the atmosphere; Voldemort could only scheme against Harry Potter, but he directly schemed against us.

He won this round decisively, not only putting us on the opposite side of Voldemort, but also letting the entire wizarding world know that Voldemort was making a comeback. Furthermore, he solidified Harry Potter's resolve to carry out the prophecy, achieving both strategic and political objectives.

“Most importantly, he didn’t suffer any losses.” Aaron cursed through gritted teeth. “Sirius Black, who should have died, was pulled back from the brink of death by me.”

In other words, the Order of the Phoenix suffered no casualties tonight, but several Death Eaters were captured.

"What a cunning old fox! I've learned my lesson today. It's true what they say, when good people start to insult others, bad people have nothing to do with it."

I thought he'd only been dabbling in things for the past few years, but I never expected him to make such a big splash.

"We're outmatched in skill, what can we do?" The Thoughtful Body said with a wry smile. "Besides, in a sense, this is all speculation. We have no evidence whatsoever, and we even owe the Phoenix Society a favor."

“There is still evidence.” Aaron took out the glass sphere containing Sirius’s soul. “I can’t be sure about other things, but he is definitely someone who knows the truth.”

In short, this matter cannot be left unresolved.

"We can't just let it go like this, but we can only take a long-term view," the longing body advised.

Hearing this, Aaron took a deep breath and gradually calmed down. "Since we can't climb out now, we have to find a way to get some benefits!"

"how do you want to do it?"

Aaron smiled without saying a word and tossed the glass ball in his hand.

"This isn't quite right!" The thought entity seemed to understand the original's thoughts, and its expression became particularly unnatural. "I'm not against it, but we're supposed to be respectable people, digging up graves and stuff... isn't that inappropriate?"

“This is a necessary bargaining chip,” Aaron said seriously. “A Sirius Black who is just a soul is at most a ghost of Hogwarts, and has almost no value.”

But a living Sirius Black is a completely different story. He is the sole heir to the pure-blood Black family, the godfather of Harry Potter, a key member of the Order of the Phoenix, and a close friend of Remus Lupin…

"Wait, wait, stop!" the thought interrupted. "I know all that you're saying, but you definitely didn't do the dirty work of digging up graves yourself, right?"

“Uh…” Aaron chuckled, “Don’t worry about the details, what you did is no different from what I did.”

"The difference is huge, isn't it?" Si Nian looked aggrieved and counted on her fingers, saying, "Homework, school exams, bullet making, practicing magic circles, strategizing, and so on. Although there are more of these tasks, I can still handle them."

But digging up graves and stealing corpses, especially corpses, is asking too much of anyone.

"To go or not to go?"

"I'll go," the thought said with a look of grief and indignation. "The main body has already decided, so I probably can't refuse!"

“You don’t need to do it yourself.” Aaron smiled awkwardly. “The Shadow Ninjas can definitely do this job, but they might not be good at the cleanup.”

I need you to go over and supervise, and also to add an extra layer of security, making sure no one notices that Sirius's body has been stolen.

However, be careful, you need to be quick, otherwise it will be difficult to handle once the body decomposes.

“I understand.” The thought entity’s expression improved considerably. “However, Sirius was under the Killing Curse after all. It’s not as simple as stuffing his soul into his body to revive him. In fact, his body might even affect the state of his soul.”

"Let's get the body first. As for the rest... we'll figure it out later!"

If it weren't for what happened tonight, I might have been able to use the Horse Talisman to heal him.

But now I'm scared. Our healing abilities absolutely cannot be revealed, otherwise that old geezer might plot something against us.

Thoughts in words: ......

"That makes sense; the easier something is to obtain, the less we appreciate it."

......

The next day.

Aaron left the dormitory early in the morning, as if nothing had happened last night.

He changed into a brand new set of clothes and brought Aaron, who had also changed into a new set of clothes, to the auditorium.

The man and the dragon seemed to be extremely hungry, and they kept eating heartily until they saw Professor Snape sit down in the faculty section, at which point they both stopped.

Aaron gave Professor Snape a smile and then walked over.

"Professor, I have some questions that need to be answered."

“I refuse to answer any questions during mealtimes,” Snape said calmly.

“It’s alright, I can wait,” Aaron said bluntly. “Professor Snape, you know me, you should know what I’m going to ask.”

There were just too many coincidences last night. Anyone with a brain could see the problem. Now I just want the truth. You'll grant me this small wish, right?

Upon hearing this, Snape put down his knife and fork, his voice tinged with helplessness, "Do you really have to ask me? Can't you ask someone else?"

"What are you saying?" Aaron rolled his eyes, speechless. "Who else can I ask but you?"

Snape paused, as if that were indeed the case.

Sirius Black is dead, Moody and Tonks are hospitalized, Lupin is drowning his sorrows over his friend's death, Kingsley is cleaning up the mess at the Ministry of Magic, and as for Dumbledore... well, he's a thick-skinned, cunning old fox.

Damn it! I should have kept quiet and waited until things calmed down.

But he didn't expect Aaron to return so quickly; the others were still doing well at the Order of the Phoenix headquarters!

Aaron seemed to sense his feelings and sighed softly, "Professor, you should understand that there's no escaping it."

Unless you resign right now, I can guarantee you'll have a fantastic time at Hogwarts.

"Of course, even if you resign, it won't make a difference. If I'm determined to find someone, it won't be difficult."

Snape's lips twitched slightly. "I understand. Give me some time to think about it."

"Thank you." Aaron breathed a slight sigh of relief. "Professor, I know this is a bit difficult for you, but you have to be understanding of your student!"

I was living a perfectly good life when I unwittingly fell into this pit, and I can't even climb out.

"Who the hell did I offend?!"

Chapter 512: The Plan Revolving Around the Prophecy – Saving Face for the Centenarian

“I understand everything you’re saying,” Professor Snape said earnestly. “I also understand how you feel.”

Aaron remained completely unmoved, simply watching him in silence.

Anyone can say polite words, but they have nothing to do with what he wants.

"Alright then," Professor Snape sighed helplessly, "come to my office this afternoon."

"Afternoon?" Aaron raised an eyebrow with amusement. "I personally think time is still very precious, so why can't it be in the morning?"

After breakfast, I can make you a pot of tea, and we can chat at our leisure.

“But I really don’t have time this morning,” Snape said guiltily. “I need to grade the fifth-grade OWLs exams, and the other grades’ papers are also waiting for me to grade.”

"Understood." Aaron gave him a deep look, picked up Abe, and headed towards the door. "I'll wait for you in your office."

Professor Snape watched Aaron's departing figure, finished his breakfast quickly, and headed towards the eighth floor of the castle.

Meanwhile, in the principal's office.

Albus Dumbledore, deep in thought, sat opposite Harry Potter, who was also in a somber mood. The wizards and witches on the surrounding walls, unaware of what had happened, welcomed the headmaster's return.

"Alright, Harry."

You'll be happy to hear that your classmates didn't suffer any irreparable harm in last night's events, and that they'll be back today if all goes well.

"Hmm." Harry nodded expressionlessly.

“I understand how you feel, Harry,” Dumbledore said softly.

“No, you don’t understand,” Harry said, utterly dejected. The person who died last night was his only family member and the person who cared about him the most in the world. How could Dumbledore possibly understand his feelings?

"It's all my fault. Aaron was right. If I hadn't insisted on going to the Department of Mysteries..."

No, it's not your fault.

"It's my fault, it's all my fault." Dumbledore said seriously, "I knew it was only a matter of time before Voldemort made contact with you. I should have taught you Occlumency myself. Snape and Gaius may be proficient in this magic, but their teaching skills are certainly not as good as mine."

Or if I had spoken frankly with you earlier, you would have known that Voldemort was trying to lure you to the Department of Mysteries, then you wouldn't have been tricked there last night, Sirius wouldn't have gone looking for you, and he wouldn't have been...

“Wait a minute,” the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black said tremulously, “Can I understand that my great-great-grandson, the last of the Black family, is already dead?”

“I’m sorry, Phineas,” Dumbledore said.

“I don’t believe it!” Phineas roared, then moved closer to one side of the picture frame and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Harry and Dumbledore both knew what he was going to do. The Order of the Phoenix also had a portrait of him, which Phineas would use to confirm whether his great-grandson was still alive.

“Professor,” Harry said hesitantly, “that prophecy orb I found in the Department of Mysteries said that I and Voldemort…”

“I know, I was right there when this prophecy was made.”

It was a cold night sixteen years ago when Sybil approached me seeking a professorship.

You know her fortune-telling abilities are somewhat unreliable, so I politely told her that she wasn't suitable for the position.

Then...she made this prophecy: the only person with any hope of defeating Voldemort was born at the end of July sixteen years ago, and that child's parents had fought Voldemort three times.

Harry's breathing quickened slightly; what Dumbledore himself had admitted was far more reliable than the cold, hard orb of prophecy.