The days at Hogwarts

The crowd screamed and quickly retreated away from the stage.

"【Copy in pairs】"

While swimming, Crabbe cast a duplication spell, creating more black snakes that swam towards Loren.

Black snake, Parseltongue?!

Loren paused for a moment and decided to control these black snakes. He covered the carpet with Transfiguration. Strands of wool grew wildly like weeds, becoming longer and thicker. They entangled and imprisoned all the black snakes like devil vines, wrapping them into one wool ball after another.

At this moment, there were exclamations from the crowd. A black snake appeared from the stage, hissing and spitting out its tongue, swimming straight towards Neville and Justin, raising its head, showing its fangs, and posing an attacking posture.

Neville and Justin were shaking violently, not daring to move in the face of the venomous snake.

Getting closer, getting closer.

"Go away!" Neville suddenly shouted, and grabbed the snake's tail at a speed that the black snake could not react to. He then used it as a whip to smash the snake's head on the ground.

Snapped!

Snapped!

Snapped!

The snake's head was smashed to pieces, flesh and blood flew, scales splashed everywhere, and the little wizards nearby avoided it, automatically leaving a large circle, and trembled at the scene in the circle, not knowing what they were afraid of.

As for the two people on the stage, no one cared about them anymore.

Until Neville got tired of falling, he let go of the snake's tail and let the black snake fly out. It fell to the ground and twitched, looking even a little funny.

The scene was silent for a moment, and then there was an even louder discussion.

"What are you doing standing still? Let's go!"

George, Fred and Lee Jordan encouraged the people around them to gather around and throw Neville into the air and cheer. If it was Harry or Loren, the three of them could have thrown him up, but Neville was a little special...

"Ha, a dragon out of its hole—" Lockhart stood up and talked to the snake's corpse, "A simple magic, to be honest, it has a bit of the nature of dark magic. Do you know what the simplest way to deal with it is?"

To be honest, Loren had a bad feeling when he heard this. He wanted to step forward to stop Lockhart, but a sudden voice in his ear stopped him.

"Disappear into heaven!"

With Lockhart's magic, the shattered snake corpse flew up into the air, and when it fell back down, it had been resurrected and healed, and had become larger and more terrifying. It was thicker than an adult's thigh, and it was obviously not something Neville could dance with.

"Hiss~Sayahasashi"

"Hiss~Sayahasashi"

What happened next was natural. Just as the python was approaching the young wizard, Harry stood up and drove the python away with his Parseltongue.

Amid Justin's angry scolding and the whispers of the crowd, Ron and Hermione protected Harry and quickly left the hall.

After dealing with the mess left by Lockhart and turning the python into a puff of black smoke, Snape ordered the prefects to take the students back and told the young wizards not to spread rumors...

In the side door to the right of the guest of honor seat.

The noise surged in the hall like a tide. Loren listened to the ominous discussions and asked softly, "Is this your plan, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore, dressed in a white robe, looked at the entrance of the Great Hall, where Harry was no longer visible. His eyes were forbearing and painful, without any trace of joy from the completion of the plan, only deep compassion:

"Phoenix, you must be reborn from the flames..."

"Even if all the feathers are plucked."

Chapter 199 Dumbledore: I have a headache. It's really a headache.

Loren followed Dumbledore into the headmaster's office. Both of them were silent and anyone could see that they were uneasy.

The spindly-legged tables, still laden with fine silver, lay motionless, and if it were daytime they would have whirled and belched out steam.

Fawkes was curled up on a perch inlaid with gold wire, his hair withered, his head pecking and dozing, like an old hen incubating eggs. When he saw Dumbledore come in, he dragged his sleepy body back, trying to protect the few remaining feathers on his butt.

The portraits of the old headmasters, both men and women, watched the two men walk into the headmaster's office with sullen faces, and whispered to each other on the wall, wondering what school rules the young wizard had violated to cause the usually gentle Dumbledore to be in such a state.

With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore lit up the few lamps in the office, sat down in the armchair behind the desk, began to pour tea for Loren, and rummaged through the drawers for his stock of snacks.

"Principal Dumbledore," Loren hesitated, but still said, "I don't think Harry would like this way of growing up."

"Loren, please believe me. If possible, I only hope that every student at Hogwarts can grow up happily and graduate successfully. Then get a stable job, form a family with the one they love, and have a few naughty children, just like the Weasley family."

Dumbledore looked tired, and he felt bad in his heart as well. "However, Harry doesn't have much time to grow. I think you have also noticed the strangeness in Crabbe's chest."

At this point, Dumbledore recalled seeing Loren cast the Crushing Curse into Crabbe's chest without mercy. He paused and frowned slightly, "Voldemort is training new Death Eaters. He and his minions will stir up unrest again."

Loren recalled the battle with Crabbe. Last year, Crabbe was scolded as a stupid troll and the last in Slytherin. Now his dueling skills have surpassed most of the young wizards of the same level. And there was a strange black light on his chest...

After opening a box of cockroaches, Dumbledore took one and put it in his mouth. The popping sound and sweet taste soothed him a little. "Harry is special. He will gain supreme fame and honor, but he will also face the deepest fear and the most evil demon. He must seize the time to grow up. Mental fortitude is more important than powerful magic."

He handed over the rest and placed it between the two men, "Help him, Loren."

Loren was a little annoyed: "I see, you should be more concerned about the Ministry of Magic's problems now. Last night..."

He told about using Legilimency to look through the memories of the house-elves and discovering that they were in league with the werewolves and the Ministry of Magic.

"In fact, I also have a werewolf friend who has already heard the news." Dumbledore's expression was serious, but he was more concerned about Loren's review of his memory. He solemnly warned, "Loren, don't use Legilimency Read it!"

Loren was confused for a moment: "Why?"

"Even though many scholars and spell experts speak out for the rationality and legitimacy of Legilimency, the Wizengamot discusses the issue every year. But it is undeniable that this is a dark magic that peeks into people's hearts."

"Can--"

Dumbledore held out his hand to signal him not to refute. "I know what you young people think. You think magic is just a tool, and there is no distinction between good and bad... You think there is no black and white in magic, only wizards have black and white."

Which enthusiastic young wizard doesn't have such thoughts? He sighed quietly, "A long time ago, when I was young, I had the same idea. I believed that I was gifted and that I was in control of magic, rather than magic influencing me. As I got closer to the essence of magic and felt the source of magic, I realized my own ignorance and arrogance."

"Loren, the soul is the most mysterious realm of magic. No one has ever penetrated its true meaning, but every part of magic reflects its power. Conversely, magic will also affect the soul. I think you have heard that dark wizards who are completely obsessed with black magic cannot use the Patronus Charm. This is the manifestation of black magic affecting the soul."

Loren remembered that Flamel had said something similar when he was practicing the Divine Sharpness Spell. The reminders from the two old wizards made him take it seriously, and he began to recall his own behavior and determine whether he was really affected by the black magic.

Check the memories of the house-elf and cast a forgetfulness spell to cover up your whereabouts.

Reflect the Crushing Curse to detect Crabbe's strangeness...

Dumbledore looked at Loren who was lost in thought, waiting patiently with deep expectation in his eyes.

The portraits on the wall had already noticed the two people below and heard their entire conversation. Even some old principals who were dozing off in their photo frames woke up.

The 18th-century headmistress Dalys Devante, a brilliant healer whose portrait hangs at Hogwarts and St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, agreed with Dumbledore: “Dark magic is like dirty water, it stains the pure soul black.”

Headmaster Black, who was born in Slytherin, was not convinced. He blew his goatee and retorted: "This shows that dark magic is closer to the essence of the soul. As long as we stick to ourselves, dark magic can become a powerful means."

He became more and more excited as he spoke, and even became indignant: "Durmstrang regards the Dark Arts as a normal course. The young wizards who come out of their school are much more capable than those in our school! In my opinion, they should offer a Dark Arts course."

"What nonsense are you talking about!"

The old principal Dexter Foster had a bad temper. He couldn't stand it anymore, so he pulled the hearing aid off his ear, jumped into Blake's photo frame, and started beating him with his fists.

Several Hufflepuff headmasters rushed to try to stop the fight, and together they held Black back to prevent him from fighting back, allowing Dexter to punch him a few more times.

Loren was awakened by the noise of a lively fight, and looked at Dumbledore with a strange expression, secretly guessing whether Dumbledore's portrait was hung up to show that he was beating people or taking sides in a quarrel.

There was no change on Dumbledore's face, as if he was used to it. He looked at Loren expectantly, waiting for his answer.

Loren still shook his head: "Principal, the house-elf Biggs monitored my whereabouts and set fire to Windsor Castle. Crabbe defected to Voldemort and attacked me cruelly. I think there is nothing wrong with using dark magic against them. Gentleness and kindness are reserved for relatives and friends, and we should be ruthless when dealing with them."

"Well said, boy! You should come to our Slytherin house!" Old Headmaster Black was still uneasy even after being beaten.

Dumbledore waved his wand and the portraits of the headmasters flipped over to show how they looked when they were sleeping.

He looked at Loren with some headache. Talent and wisdom can sometimes become obstacles to education.

If it were any other young wizard, it would be impossible for them to learn these dark arts in the second grade. Even if they did, they would wake up in time after being advised by him. Loren's wisdom and opinion made him more stubborn.

"You are right. We should be merciless when dealing with our enemies. I am also good at Legilimency and I am not reluctant to use it on my enemies. I also have no objection to your studying the dark arts. Only by mastering the dark arts can we resist the dark arts."

"But it shouldn't be now. You are too young to know what a dark abyss the human heart is. While you are spying on the darkness, the darkness is also spying on you." Dumbledore's voice was gentle but firm.

Black magic is like a stream of water, invisible and slow. The more recklessly one uses it, the more recklessly it flows through the user's mind and soul, leaving traces without them noticing.

Dumbledore has gazed into the hearts of others countless times, and also gazed into his own heart countless times. He deeply felt the traces left by the dark magic on his soul, so he feared power and life, and used shackles to trap himself in a high building far away from the world.

But Loren didn't want to listen, he believed Dumbledore was doing it for his own good, just like every parent who loves their children, they want their children to have a bright future and don't want them to have any flaws.

He felt that Dumbledore took the problem too seriously, just like some parents who viewed electronic products and games as a scourge, which was a bit of an overreaction.

Loren believed that he had the soul of an adult and that his personality would not be completely changed by black magic. As for being cruel to his enemies, he did not think that this was really a shortcoming.

Dumbledore attempted to hold him to a saintly standard, which was impossible in the real world.

Loren ate the pile of cockroaches in silence, pretending not to hear what Dumbledore had just said. The "crunching" sound of the candy exploding brought a sweet taste.

This child really doesn't listen to advice.

Dumbledore had an even bigger headache. He didn't want to see the former Loren changed.

That Loren was the one who could dissolve Malfoy's evil intentions with a kind frozen pear, and inspire Malfoy's loyalty by treating the weak equally... He had the most powerful magical power and deep love in his heart.

Dumbledore drummed his fingers on the armrest as he watched Loren stuff a box of cockroaches into his stomach. He was clearly competing with him, but he still ate his snacks with a clear conscience.

Principal Whitebeard smiled silently. Since he couldn't change his opinion, he decided to guide his behavior.

He opened another box of Bibi Every Flavour Beans and handed it to him, saying gently, "You arrived at the auditorium after the duel started, so you probably haven't had dinner yet, right?"

Loren nodded, and the mirror with the Soul Stone added underwent some changes. Flamel helped him add some magic circles on the mirror to control the influence of the Soul Stone, which took a long time and made him miss dinner.

"Although I accepted your snacks, it doesn't mean that I accept your point of view." Loren shook his head and warned, but the way he chewed the candy in big mouthfuls showed that his position was not firm.

"Of course," Dumbledore said with a smile in his tone, "You can eat slowly. I just want to tell you a story."

Do you think he's a primary school student by educating him with fables? Loren glanced at the old headmaster with a white beard and said, "For the sake of the cockroach pile, you can tell me as much as you want."

Dumbledore was not annoyed and refilled his tea to prevent him from choking. "This is the second story in The Tales of Beedle the Bard, The Fountain of Luck. The Fountain of Luck is in a mysterious magical garden, where lush exotic flowers and rare fruit trees grow. It is on a high mountain..."

Beedle the Bard invented a fountain of luck that could make people's wishes come true. Three witches and a knight teamed up to find the fountain of luck. At the end of the story, they achieved their wishes through their own efforts.

The implication is probably that if you work hard, you will have enough food and clothing, Loren guessed.

After the story was told, Loren was full and satisfied. He patted his belly and sighed with satisfaction. "It's a great fable, but I don't hear any connection with black magic."

"Well - it doesn't matter." Dumbledore smiled like a fox, "I just want to make a deal with you. As long as you promise not to use Legilimency, I will tell you the location of the Fountain of Luck."

Loren was suddenly stunned: "Isn't the original intention of the story of the Fountain of Good Luck to tell us that we should use our own hands to obtain happiness? And doesn't the end of the story imply that the Fountain of Good Luck is fictional?"

"That's true, but if it were you, Loren, you wouldn't care about the original meaning of the story. Besides, this is not fiction."

Dumbledore looked at him deeply and said with emotion: "I was extremely unlucky in the first half of my life. I was displaced and separated from my relatives and friends. Despair and trouble filled my life. Just when it was about to fall apart, I found the fountain of good fortune and slowly put my shattered life back into shape."

"Whether you are exploring the mysteries of magic or refining the Philosopher's Stone, the Fountain of Good Luck can give you effective help."

Loren looked at the headmaster suspiciously. He didn't quite believe that Dumbledore's life turned around because of the Fountain of Luck, and Dumbledore's current life was not good at all.

But his heart was moved, really moved: "Do we need to make an unbreakable vow?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "This does not require an unbreakable oath, a simple magical contract will do. I will not set any punishment for you, but the magic will remind me when you violate the contract."

He stretched out his right index finger and guided the magic to establish the contract. Flame-like lines bloomed on the first knuckle: "Press your index finger on it and say your promise."

Looking at this magical scene, Loren opened his eyes wide: "Contract? Wait a moment."

Fifteen minutes later, Dumbledore watched the scene in front of him with a twitching eye.

Loren held the parchment with densely written clauses in one hand, and casually pressed his other hand on the pattern of the flame contract, reading the agreement he had just written without any emotion:

"Party A: Albus Dumbledore, Party B: Loren Morgan. Party A and Party B have reached an agreement after consultation in accordance with relevant laws and regulations, and in accordance with the principles of equality, mutual benefit and common development..."

The flame pattern on Dumbledore's index finger danced extremely unsteadily, reflecting the old wizard's inner temper.

Loren was immersed in his contract and didn't feel the bursting flames at all: "Article 7, liability for breach of contract... If the life and property safety of Party B and its relatives and friends are threatened, forcing Party B to be unable to perform the contract normally or violate the contract, it will not be regarded as a breach of contract by Party B, and Party A shall continue to perform its obligations."

"If there are force majeure factors, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions..."

The vein in Dumbledore's temple was throbbing violently, and he could no longer bear it.

呲!

The flame pattern on the index finger turned from red to gold, quickly rushed up Loren's index finger, dyeing some of the fingerprint patterns a light gold, and then disappeared under the skin.

Dumbledore didn't give Loren a chance to speak, and waved his wand. Loren only felt his eyes blurred, and when he came to his senses, he was locked outside the principal's office.

Loren was kicked out and refused to accept it. In the corridor of the castle, there were constant angry rebukes:

"What's wrong with more clauses?"

"This shows that I have a spirit of contract!"

……