Ancient Wizards Return to Hogwarts...

Chapter 353 Hufflepuff: Questioning Salazar, Understanding Salazar, Becoming Salazar

Harry looked at the clock, feeling both amused and exasperated: Rice's potion was supposed to be effective, yet he still had a strange dream; it was also supposed to be ineffective, yet he had actually slept for eight hours straight.

He touched his forehead, and sure enough, the scar was burning hot, as if someone had branded it with a scorching wire.

Without hesitation, Harry took out the "painkiller" that Rice had provided, drank a drop, and the pain in the scar immediately lessened. However, his mind also felt as if it were surrounded by a thin mist, and all his senses became "dull".

Harry's expression turned calm. He got out of bed, silently dressed, and prepared to go to the Great Hall for dinner.

Ron woke up at that moment, drew back the bed curtains, and called to Harry, "Harry, wait for me, let's go to the Great Hall together."

Harry: "Oh."

After getting dressed, Ron yawned as he walked down to the Great Hall with Harry.

As he walked down the street, he kept complaining, "Did you do your divination homework?"

Harry didn't react much, and after two seconds he uttered a single word: "No."

Ron didn't notice anything unusual at first, and simply invited his friend: "How about we make up some homework after dinner? I feel like we can get a high score if we just write that we're going to be unlucky."

Harry: "Okay."

Ron sensed something was off, but didn't think much of it—wasn't it normal to be sleepy and not want to talk after just waking up? It wasn't until the two returned to the common room and started doing their homework that Ron noticed Harry's unusual behavior.

"I'm going to predict that I'll trip and fall in the bathroom. What are you going to write?"

"I don't know. I'm thinking about it."

Ron: ?

In the ensuing conversation, he discovered that Harry was indeed acting very strangely: he was like an emotionless machine, responding to all sorts of questions with only a single word or a short phrase, and he was also very slow at completing his homework—which was supposed to be a divination assignment, where all he had to do was make things up.

"Harry, are you alright?" Ron stared intently at Harry's face.

"It's alright." His response remained brief.

"What's wrong with you?" Ron frowned.

"The scar hurts, so I got some medicine from Rice." Under the influence of the potion, Harry no longer hid his condition from Ron and told him everything he had kept to himself.

Ron: ?!

He immediately became alert and kept asking what kind of potion it was. He finally learned from Harry that Rice had given him three kinds of potions, and also inquired about Harry's recent experiences.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it's useless."

Ron: ...

Harry's sincerity left him speechless. He considered it seriously for a while and decided to wait until the effects of the drug wore off before saying anything.

Harry had taken a very small dose, and the effects wore off in less than an hour. He gradually regained his senses and then remembered what had happened.

He immediately felt embarrassed.

"Ah, Ron, that's not what I meant. I meant—"

"You really should talk to Professor Dumbledore, tell him your scar hurts, tell him you're having strange dreams. Harry, although I know limited things and am not as good at potion-making as Rice, I understand that what you've experienced is definitely not normal—that's why Rice pointed you in the right direction from the beginning: go to Dumbledore."

This time it was Harry's turn to remain silent. Ron and Rice had given the exact same advice, and deep down he knew that this was the most reliable and reasonable suggestion, but he also genuinely didn't want to.

"Alright, I'll go. But Rice's sleeping potion is really good—I'm not going to use his painkiller again." Harry changed the subject, intending to finish the two bottles of sleeping potion Rice had given him first.

Maybe it will heal itself by then? Then there's no need to bother Professor Dumbledore.

"That's right." Ron was fooled by Harry, then turned his attention back to his Divination homework: "Harry, you'd better hurry, we have class soon!"

"Hmm!" Harry nodded and quickly finished his homework. After the effects of the drug wore off, Harry wrote with lightning speed, finishing the homework that he hadn't been able to complete in an hour in less than ten minutes.

After writing the last sentence, the two hurriedly packed their things into their backpacks and ran quickly toward the west tower.

In the days that followed, Harry did not go to Dumbledore as he had said, but instead placed his bets on Rice's potions.

With the help of two sleeping potions, Harry stopped having strange dreams, only the occasional pain from his scars reminding him that things were not over.

But in any case, Harry gained a semblance of peace, and so did Hogwarts.

Helga had finished most of her work, leaving only the automatons she had promised the Ministry of Magic.

These days, aside from teaching her students and Cedric, she spends all her time designing this doll. She wants the doll to be stable, reliable, and not easily damaged, while also being easy to manufacture and incorporating as many functions as possible—it's unrealistic for her to actually dedicate all her time and energy to making dolls to sell.

With so many demands, even though Helga was very skilled at doll making, she still put in a lot of effort. Under the pressure of so many tasks, even she, who could fight against the gods, felt exhausted.

So she called Rice to her office.

"Help me, Salazar!" Helga pulled a thick stack of parchment from under his desk. "Help me revise my students' papers. I'm using a spell you invented; you must know it very well."

Rice: ? ? ?

Helga, what kind of weird mushroom did you eat to have the illusion that I'm willing to help you with your homework? I even have Daphne do my own homework!

"Goodbye!" Rice turned and left, only to find the office door locked tight.

"You can try, I'll consider you a winner if you can get out." Hufflepuff revealed a triumphant smile: she had already activated her domain, and Salazar couldn't possibly escape without making a scene.

Rice: ...

He realized he had fallen into a trap, but it wasn't a big problem; he had a plan.

"Helga, I remember you told me before that you found a student you liked? Then why don't you let the student correct your homework?" Rice coaxed. "These are not very important tasks, so just leave them to the student."

"Is this... really okay?" Salazar's words cheered Helga up, but she was also a little embarrassed because wasn't this exactly the same as Salazar's exploitation of that little girl?

"What's wrong with it?" Rice smirked. "It's for the good of your students!"

He whispered to Helga like a serpent in the Garden of Eden, "Doesn't he gain a deeper understanding of those subjects while grading assignments?"

Helga fell into thought.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The second update is here! Goodnight everyone, the next update will be at midnight.

Welcome everyone to join my book club to urge me to update!

(End of this chapter)