Ancient Wizards Return to Hogwarts...

Chapter 404 Godric: Salazar, I remember saying—wait, who are you?

Moros is Daemon in ancient Greek mythology, the god of fate and misfortune, whose very existence symbolizes destruction and death.

Pandora's Box is even more significant, a legendary container into which the gods supposedly placed all of humanity's calamities, diseases, and misfortunes. Before Pandora's Box was opened, there were no terrifying disasters, no arduous labor, and no tormenting diseases. After it was opened, all sorts of calamities filled the earth, sky, and sea. Diseases spread and ravaged humanity day and night, yet silently; various fevers raged across the land, and death raced swiftly through the world.

Combining these two things, it's not impossible to curse not just a minor teaching position, but the entire magical world.

"You've made a contract with me, so what do you want from me?" Rice asked curiously.

Moros paused for a moment, then told Rice that he wanted to be free.

Rice: ...

"When you gave me your name and the name of the box, you should have understood that I would not agree to your request."

"Another person well-versed in Greek mythology..."

"Another one?" Rice noticed a detail in the box's words.

"Quite a few people have heard my story," Moros explained to Rice. It told Rice that before he found it, it had already changed hands several times. Everyone who heard of its reputation was extremely wary of it.

"But they don't even consider that all the disasters in the box have already escaped, leaving only the most beautiful 'hope'. Although my name is terrifying, everything is arranged by 'fate,' and the misfortunes I brought were actually preordained calamities. We're not actually as scary as we sound." The voice from the box was filled with grievance.

Rice raised an eyebrow: What this guy said makes a lot of sense. He glanced down at Helga, who was still unconscious, clearly not yet recovered from the immense exertion she had just experienced.

"Then how do I open you?" Rice shook the box in her hand.

"You're actually willing to help me open this box???" came an incredulous voice from inside the box. Clearly, the previous owners of the box had never had this idea, and hadn't even bothered to give it a perfunctory answer.

"Why not give it a try?" Rice wasn't as afraid of Moros. He believed that what the box said was probably true.

The calamity that was contained within the box has already been released. As for whether there is any "hope" left at the bottom of the box, that's not important, since he won't open the box within the Hogwarts area anyway.

Furthermore, believing that the box is not lying does not mean he should open it.

"It's amazing, you're the first person I've met who's willing to help me open this box. But unfortunately, even I don't know how to open it myself."

Moros's words silenced Rice.

It took him a while to recover from the shock that Moros had given him.

"So after we form a contract, I'll have to find a way to open the box for you, and then open it?"

"Uh-huh."

"How did the people who had you before make their choices?"

This time it was Moros's turn to remain silent.

After a while, He reluctantly replied, "They either made a contract with me and then disappeared without a trace, or they just made a deal with me."

Reston suddenly understood: the box in front of him had been taken advantage of all along. It had no way to retaliate against the wizard who had made a pact with it!

Judging from Moros's condition, Rice felt that He was more like being punished in Pandora's box.

"You can't lie, right?" Rice analyzed the box's previous response to him and came to a surprising conclusion.

Box:……

"Alright, could you tell me about the other Olympian gods? They've been gone for a long time."

Throughout history, Europe, including the Mediterranean coast, has seen the emergence of three distinct groups of gods. The first group consisted of the ancient Egyptian gods who ushered in the Age of Magic, but they ultimately perished in internal strife and madness. The second group comprised the Greek gods, whose disappearance was shrouded in mystery, with some suggesting a connection to Rome and war. Regardless, by the time Rice and his companions were born, the Norse gods had already taken over. And Rice and his three friends were precisely the reason for the disappearance of the third and final group of gods.

But Moros, inside the box, also didn't know why the Olympian gods had disappeared.

He had previously offended Zeus and was punished by the king of the gods, imprisoned in Pandora's Box, never to see the light of day. By the time the first outsider found Him, the Olympian gods had already vanished.

"I see..." Rice pondered for a moment, "So how did the previous wizard reach a deal with you?"

"They make the demands, I propose the corresponding price, and then we bargain with each other until we reach an agreement."

Rice raised an eyebrow: "During your last deal, did someone ask you to curse a position?"

"Yes." Moros replied crisply, "That person originally wanted to curse someone directly, but couldn't afford the price. So he settled for the next best thing and wanted to curse the position of Headmaster of Hogwarts, but still couldn't afford the price. In the end, after a long discussion, he finally cursed a position called Defense Against the Dark Arts—this is the first time I've ever seen someone like that."

Even Moros couldn't help but complain about Voldemort, that penniless bastard.

"What will he offer you in return?"

Moros's voice held a hint of anger: "I asked him for beautiful memories of 'love,' but that guy tricked me. He has no concept of 'love' whatsoever! So I limited his curse, shrinking the concept of 'Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts' to a very small degree."

"So, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor can avoid the curse simply by changing his name?" Thinking this, Rice almost chuckled.

"Of course!"

"Then just changing the name of this course would work, wouldn't it?"

"Yes~" The voice from the box became cheerful.

Rice thought for a moment and decided that renaming Defense Against Dark Magic would be more practical—how about just calling it Magic Defense? Do students only need to defend against dark magic? Is it that white magic can't injure or cripple people, or what?

"What if I want to simply wish for the curse to be lifted?"

Moros paused for a moment, then, after what seemed like some calculation, told Rice that he only needed to pay with a piece of his memory.

"My memories? I'm afraid you'll be too scared to talk to me after you see them," Rice said with a smile.

"I am Damon, the god of destiny. What haven't I seen?" Moros said confidently.

"Alright." Rice casually picked out a memory from the War of the Gods.

The box swallowed the memories in an instant, then gave a jolt.

Moros: ...

He had never seen anything like this before!

"Who are you?" His voice trembled with fear.

The power displayed by the one who possessed Him in that brief fragment of memory was no less than that of any of the main gods on Mount Olympus.

"Les Lint is a wizard."

Box:……

Forget it, I can't afford to mess with this guy.

"The deal is done, and the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position has now been lifted."

After leaving that sentence, the box never spoke again.

Helga regained consciousness shortly after Rice and Moros reached a deal.

"The curse has been broken."

Helga had just woken up when she heard this good news.

"Great job!" Helga praised Rice, then looked at the box in Rice's hand.

"Moros, would you like to say a few words to my good friend?"

Box:……

The box remained silent, just like a normal box.

Rice wouldn't help Moros hide the truth; he told Helga the whole story of the box's origin and his relationship with Voldemort.

Helga looked at the antique box in Rice's hand with a surprised expression, marveling: there was such a thing hidden in Hogwarts Castle.

"Never mind this box, let's get out of here." Rice looked around, a thought forming in his mind.

He quickly pulled Hufflepuff out of the "storage room".

He didn't recall having such a room when the castle was built, so it was either a addition by wizards in later generations, or...

In short, if it's the latter, then he really shouldn't think about it too much, because ignorance is bliss.

The two quickly returned to Helga's office. The curse seemed to have indeed been lifted, because even without the domain's protection, Helga hadn't encountered any misfortune.

"You should have received the letter I sent you by now, right?" Rice found a relatively intact chair wreckage in a scorched wasteland, sat down, and asked Helga about her research on the Resurrection Stone Ring.

"I haven't even started researching that thing yet." Helga has been incredibly busy for the past month, constantly rushing to fulfill orders—the Ministry of Magic had commissioned an additional batch of dolls for the Quidditch World Cup and was pressing her for time. At the same time, she was also worried about the curse; where would she find the time to research the Resurrection Stone ring?

Rice said he understood, and since he still had some time, the two of them could study the Resurrection Stone Ring together.

"Okay." Helga reached into her bosom, then froze on the spot: the ring was gone!

Rice: ? ? ?

Meanwhile, in the Hogwarts Headmaster's office, Dumbledore was slumped in an armchair behind his desk, looking haggard.

On the desk in front of him lay a black gemstone ring, the very same resurrection stone ring that Helga had lost.

As luck would have it, Helga received the ring that day and put it in her pocket without much examination. However, under the influence of the curse, the ring fell out of her pocket, and Helga, busy fighting against the misfortune, didn't notice.

Thus, the Deathly Hallows lay quietly in the chaotic office for a long time, until Dumbledore arrived.

Dumbledore came to visit Professor White. He was genuinely worried about the professor's condition.

To be honest, this was the first time he had ever seen such a powerful effect of misfortune. In the past, professors had at most been sprayed with potions or gored by wild boars. Professor White was different; he had been hit by explosions twice within a quarter of an hour.

Then he discovered that Professor White's office was deserted, leaving only ruins.

Dumbledore had sharp eyes; he immediately spotted the black gemstone ring in the ruins.

Dumbledore considered himself a man of few desires, believing that nothing in the world could move him anymore. But today he knew he was wrong; there were indeed things in the world that could stir his heart, even giving rise to immoral thoughts.

One of the legendary Three Holy Relics of the Dead, the Resurrection Stone Ring!

With this ring, he will be able to see his sister again.

Dumbledore knew perfectly well who the ring belonged to, but driven by desire, he took it back to his office. He knew he could find countless excuses, but it was essentially no different from stealing.

After a long internal struggle, Dumbledore finally put on the ring, closed his eyes, and turned it three times as described in the legends.

He felt a gentle breeze caress his cheek, and then a deep male voice rang out—

"Salazar, I remember saying—wait, who are you?"

Dumbledore: ? ? ? ? ? ?

He opened his eyes in surprise and found a burly man with fiery red hair standing in front of him, his face also filled with astonishment.

"Oh, sorry to bother you!" The red-haired man seemed to remember something and stepped aside, revealing a blonde, blue-eyed, ethereal girl.

Dumbledore didn't need a second to recognize the girl. It was his sister, Ariana Dumbledore.

The red-haired man shrank into a corner of the office, trying his best to minimize his presence, while also looking around at everything in the office.

When his gaze swept over the tattered hat on the shelf, he froze.

"No way..." A storm raged through his mind.

……

The conversation between Albus and Ariana was brief, with the two spending most of the time in silence. The presence of the red-haired man made the atmosphere even more awkward.

Fortunately, both Dumbledore and the man himself knew that the red-haired man was already a ghost-like existence, so it wasn't too bad. Dumbledore focused most of his energy on the illusion formed by his sister, only occasionally glancing at the red-haired man in the corner.

Finally, Ariana's phantom dissipated, and Dumbledore officially began dealing with the red-haired man who had inexplicably appeared there.

"You must be the current headmaster of Hogwarts?" Before Dumbledore could speak, the red-haired man spoke up: "Let me introduce myself, I am Godric Gryffindor."

Dumbledore's pupils instantly shrank to the size of pinholes.

After Godric revealed his name, a strange change occurred at Hogwarts Castle.

Although no one except Dumbledore could see Godric's presence, the Sorting Hat on the shelf stood upright, and the castle began to tremble slightly.

However, the castle returned to normal after a few seconds, as it had not detected the return of the wizard with the highest authority. The Sorting Hat, on the other hand, cracked open as if to ask something, but ultimately silently returned to normal.

"A powerful self-evident proof." Dumbledore stared intently at Godric's phantom, now convinced of the man's identity.

"I am Albus Dumbledore, the current Headmaster of Hogwarts."

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.

Update delivered, goodnight everyone~

(End of this chapter)