School Begins

Flamel's gaze swept across the sky, looking into the distance, which seemed to be nowhere, or perhaps a void.

After a long period of contemplation, he said slowly, "There are no Deity in this world. Anyone who wants to become Deity and rise above all life will be rejected by life and the world."

"Don't be fooled by his tricks. When you grow up, you'll find the answers to everything."

Loren remained silent. Voldemort might have had some ideas to mislead him before his death, and what he said was likely a mixture of truth and falsehood. Flamel's words indicated that this was not something he should know, at least not now.

"What about Descendant of Morgan? I always thought I came from Muggle family, and that my parents were ordinary people," Loren asked.

Flamel smiled. "I don't know your parents, but I think they were probably just ordinary people. It's just that the surname Morgan is very special, as it's associated with another great wizard."

His illusory hand rubbed Loren's hair twice, trying to straighten it from the wind, but the light and shadow merely passed through it, and the illusion and reality could not intersect.

"When you start school, go ask Dumbledore. He knows more about this than I do." Flamel finished speaking, then transformed into a beam of light and flew back to the Fantasy Book.

Loren was filled with complex emotions. Sage, Deity, and the mysterious Morgan wizard—what exactly were these things...?

He once thought he had seen the end of this world and understood its truth, so he had a calm and collected mindset. But when the world revealed its true face to him, it was all scenery he had never known before.

The Book of Abraham, which he had obtained by chance, Nicol's dream, Trelawney's Prophecy... things he once thought were just coincidences and good luck, seemed to have been arranged by fate long ago.

Malfoy Manor.

Lucius held up a blue peacock feather vase to his eyes, looking at it again and again with a pleased smile on his face, clearly very satisfied with this new acquisition.

"Dad," Draco said hesitantly, standing to the side, "Your attitude toward the Weasley today was strange. Why? Do you really support Pure-blood?"

Click!

The porcelain vase clinked softly against the cabinet. Lucius placed the vase back on the table and said leisurely, "Pure-blood, that's just an excuse."

"This group of people, when they want to do things in Diadem and gain the support of some people, will bring up this banner. Then they will use this reason to achieve their own goals."

All the contraband had been cleared out, and even the Diary the Dark Lord had entrusted to him had been moved without anyone noticing. In a very good mood, Lucius couldn't help but say a few more words:

"Draco, you must remember, there is no such thing as Pure-blood interests, Muggle interests, or anything else. All interests ultimately come down to one's own interests."

"You see, the Weasley are Pure-blood Families too. Has anyone ever helped them when they were in trouble?" Lucius seemed to find this very funny and couldn't help but laugh. "Even those old guys just watched the Weasley gradually decline."

"If supporting Pure-blood brings benefits, then support Pure-blood; if supporting Muggle brings benefits, then support Muggle."

"Only those with mutual interests are true friends forever."

Draco listened in disbelief to these words, which were completely different from his long-held beliefs. He couldn't help but ask, "But what about Slytherin's principles? What about the glory of Pure-blood?"

Lucius looked at Draco's face and felt that, as his son, Draco was a little... not like Malfoy.

"Listen, Pure-blood or Muggle, I only uphold the honor of the Malfoy family. For thousands of years, my ancestors have passed the Malfoy family down to me, and I will certainly pass it on to you in a good manner."

"And you..." Lucius fell silent. Clearly, he had neglected his son's upbringing over the years, Draco might have absorbed Narcissa's simplistic ideas.

Displeased Lucius went straight upstairs; he needed to have a serious talk with Narcissa. As the heir to the Malfoy family, he couldn't afford to be foolish any longer.

As a result of the conversation, he inexplicably agreed to change the equipment for the Slytherin Quidditch Team in exchange for Draco's place on the team.

"Was it Severus Snape who seduced you! Did he threaten you with Draco?!" An angry voice came from upstairs, full of exasperation.

In Albania, Lake Ohrid stretches endlessly, its mirror-like blue waters reflecting the sky and mountains. Winter hasn't arrived yet, but the temperature is already quite cold.

That's what Voldemort thought.

Three months ago, he was expelled from Hogwarts again and returned to live a life like a maggot, just like 11 years ago.

He is now just a weak Wraith, and any dark wizard can inflict torture on him. For the former Dark Lord, living in this state is a disgrace.

Fortunately, he had grown accustomed to such humiliation over those ten years. Relinquishing a portion of reason, and a part of one's human existence, would bring some comfort to the Wraith.

Winter is not a good time for him. He is as humble as a snake or insect, but he cannot hibernate like a snake.

Lake Ohrid never freezes, and the presence of water means the gathering of animals. However, when someone possesses a social animal, the other animals in the group will be afraid of the cold aura emanating from him, and after a period of time, this fear will turn into rejection.

Animals without reason are incredibly savage; their methods of expressing disgust are simple and direct...

Whenever I think of those remnants of Voldemort's Wraith, as a part of him as a human being, I always feel ashamed, followed by endless hatred and anger.

What made the time most unbearable was that he couldn't go to his former servants, and he didn't know when someone like Quirrell would find him again. The primeval forest seemed endless, and winter held no hope...

However, regardless of the circumstances, winters in Albania are not easy to endure.

Possessed by a Serpent-patterned Viper, Voldemort moved through the grass and crawled over the low bushes, the scales on his belly making a soft rustling sound. He was already familiar with this way of moving, just like a real snake.

Just as he was coiled around the outstretched branches of the Serpent Bone Tree, about to add another snakebone to the tree, he saw a shimmering black mist flying over from afar.

The black mist crashed against the Serpent Bone Tree before him, leaving a line of black ink-like text on it:

'I offer you my sincerest apologies, Descendant of Morgan, Sage of the New Era.'

Voldemort stared at the words, his snake-like body lying motionless on the branch.

As if it had provoked some incredible being, a putrid smell emanated from the ink, and tiny red-glowing sparks gradually lit up, eventually spreading and rising into a ball of flame.

Voldemort released the snake's tail from the tree and fell to the ground, watching the tree turn to ashes in the blink of an eye.

The seemingly endless winter appeared to be suddenly bathed in sunlight. The Serpent-patterned Viper flapped its scales and slithered swiftly toward the inn outside the Albanian Forest. Although the dark wizard was difficult to deal with, there was another kind of magical life form that could be commanded there.

A sinister laugh suddenly echoed through the deserted forest...

Half a day later, in front of the Crabbe Manor.

The transparent space suddenly distorted, and with a "bang," a House-elf holding a huge Silver Cup appeared.

A viper with stripes on its back crawled out of the Silver Cup and coiled around the House-elf's neck, following its arm.

"You're saying that Little Crabbe hired Werewolf to attack Azkaban?" A hoarse, terrified voice came from the snake's mouth.

The frail House-elf trembled and answered in a high-pitched, terrified voice, "Ah, Mick heard it from the wizards who were trading at the hotel, they said..."

The fangs and forked tongue exuded a chilling aura at the artery, but it disdained the House-elf's filthy blood and ultimately did not bite. "Take me in."

"The British Library is the largest Library here," Loren said quietly to the person next to him, holding the Fantasy Book in his arms.

In the reading room, Loren sat in a corner by a bookshelf, completely inconspicuous. To others, it was just a child talking to himself, and no one would pay any attention.

"Just find a secluded corner and put me down," Flamel said casually, even with a hint of anticipation.

"So, what's the point of doing this, to make you a part of the Library's collection?" Loren was still completely baffled. This morning, Flamel had told him to take the Book Fantasy Book Fantasy Book to the Library with the largest collection and put it there.

"My range of activities has expanded, and I asked you to bring me to the Library so that I could acquire books from here."

"Included?"

"Once night falls, I can use the Fantasy Book to cleanse the Magic Power and copy all the Fantasy Book in the Library into it." Flamel looked at the neatly arranged bookshelves, deeply fascinated by the sight.

"This place is bigger than Castle, with millions of books. Are you sure you can manage it?"

"You'll be able to learn Muggle medicine in the Wizarding World, which will speed up the process of crafting Sorcerer's Stone." Flamel didn't answer his question, lost in his own world. A phantom figure floated in the air, arms outstretched in a clasping gesture:

"The Fantasy Book will become the union of two societies, and it will be the seed of civilization."

Loren didn't understand the latter half of his grandiose statement, but he still found a hidden bookshelf and placed the Fantasy Book next to a copy of "King Lear".

No one borrows the entire row of Shakespeare books, so there's no need to worry about someone mistakenly taking this one; it's a similar book to Shakespeare.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow!" Loren waved and walked out of the Library.

——

The start of the school year arrived quickly, Loren felt that summer vacation had ended too fast; it felt like he hadn't had much fun at all before it was over.

After Hermione raised the question of the Werewolf pack with Monica, Monica gave her some books such as "Leviathan: The Substance, Form and Power of the Ecclesiastical State and the Civil State" and "On the Origin and Foundations of Inequality Among Men".

This hardcore mom's original words were. "I don't know the structure and political ecology of wizarding society, but some things are always interconnected. These books can't solve problems, but they can help you understand what you're wondering about. You definitely won't understand them at first, but you will when you grow up."

So these past few days, Hermione has been struggling to read through these books, trying to finish them before the start of the semester so that she can have a general idea of what they are like.

After Flamel acquired an entire Library's worth of books, he became completely absorbed in opera, drama, and bel canto techniques. Loren, meanwhile, spent his time helping Grandpa Bates tend the backyard, preparing for the November transplanting...

They got up early on the first day of school. As usual, Bates and Wendell sat in the front row, while Monica led the two children in the back.

Because of Hermione's bag and Loren's suitcase, they didn't have to worry about their luggage. They arrived at King's Cross Station at ten o'clock, and the group went between Platform 9 and Platform 10. It was time to say goodbye.

Hermione nestled in Monica's arms, clinging to her mother's embrace like a kitten, and the two remained affectionate for a long time before parting ways.

Loren and Bates stood aside watching the Granger family.

"Like I said last time, I won't worry about you, kid." Bates ' voice was as cheerful as ever. "Remember to take good care of Hermione; she's a girl."

Loren felt a bit stuffy in his left nostril, probably from a cold, and said in a muffled voice with a slight nasal tone, "Okay."

"I'll be home for Christmas, remember to come back and visit."

"Oh!"

Finally, under the watchful eyes of the three adults, Loren and Hermione ran and crashed into Station 9-3/4.

The Bates and Mr. and Mrs. Granger, standing outside the platform, exchanged a glance, looked at each other's slightly reddened eyes, and smiled.

Thus, the summer of 1992 came to an end, and Loren and Hermione's second year began.

It's still that same red-painted train, with an industrial style from decades ago, yet it shines like new.

The two easily found an empty cubicle, sat down opposite each other, and simultaneously propped their heads up with their hands, looking out the window, which helped them ease their feelings of parting.

Strangely, after Loren boarded the train, he kept feeling like he had forgotten something, but he couldn't remember what it was. He could only try to figure out if he had forgotten anything.

I brought the Fantasy Book.

I brought the magic robe.

I brought Dumbledore Coke and dark chocolate.

When Loren thought of cola and chocolate, he was reminded of those fun magical snacks.

Hermione sniffed, watching his constantly changing expression, and asked curiously, "What are you thinking about?"

"Oh, lots." Loren scoffed. "Chocolate Frog, Licorice Wands, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans— "

Before she could finish counting, Hermione was amused. "We haven't even started the journey yet, and you're already thinking about snacks."

"After all, we haven't eaten this all summer. I still remember last year when we ate Cockroach Clusters, Neville thought I was bullying you."

"Oh, please don't mention the Cockroach Clusters again." Hermione still couldn't stand the thing.

"You clearly ate a lot!"

"You still dare to talk!"

That's it, Hermione felt that Loren had a special kind of infectious charm; he could make people laugh at any time.