socalfunplaces Chapter 78 Time Flies
Chapter 78 Time Flies
Chapter 78 Time Flies
In December, Hogwarts Castle was covered in frost flowers on the windows. Cullen stood by the window of the Charms classroom, watching a layer of white frost cover the windowsill. This was his third month at Hogwarts, and time seemed to fly by as if it had been accelerated by a magic spell.
"Karen, it's your turn." Professor Flitwick's shrill voice pulled him back to reality.
Karen turned and walked to the center of the classroom, her wand pointing steadily at the suspended iron ring in front of her. "Ventus!" A precise stream of air shot out from the tip of the wand, passing through the center of the iron ring without touching the edge at all.
"Perfect! Ravenclaw plus three points!" Professor Flitwick clapped his hands happily. "Excellent control, Cullen."
Ernesto whistled from behind, Fabian clapped and laughed from his seat, while Wesley made an exaggerated gesture of worship, which drew chuckles from the surrounding classmates.
After class, the four of them walked through the crowded corridor toward the Transfiguration classroom. Karen's dragon-skin boots clattered on the stone slabs, and he subconsciously touched the pocket on his chest, where he kept the materials he had been using for his recent practice. Since successfully creating his first five-rune alchemy item, Teacher Castor had guided him through several more complex projects.
"Are we going to Eagle's Nest again tonight?" Fabian asked softly, his fingers unconsciously twirling a strand of black hair.
"Of course," Karen nodded, "I promised to teach you the Ironclad Charm."
Ernesto's grey eyes lit up: "Is that the one we demonstrated at the Eagle's Nest before?"
"That's a variant of the Armor Charm, with an extra layer of magic circulation compared to the regular Armor Charm. It can defend against attacks from two directions simultaneously. We'll have to master the Armor Charm first." Karen lowered her voice, and Wesley whistled, "Cool! Let's see who dares to mess with us now."
In Transfiguration class, Professor McGonagall was explaining how to transform a teacup into a turtle. Karen intently observed her every move, his True Sight clearly capturing the flow of magic. When it was his turn to try, the teacup rapidly transformed under his wand, eventually becoming a small turtle with blue patterns on its shell.
"Excellent, Mr. Hawthorne." A hint of approval appeared on Professor McGonagall's serious face. "Precise transformation, perfect details."
At lunchtime, the auditorium ceiling cast a hazy, overcast glow. Karen ate apple pie while flipping through "Advanced Alchemy Principles." The pages were covered in dense notes, indicating that he had studied it repeatedly.
"You don't actually study during mealtimes, do you?" Wesley's eyes widened dramatically, and the sausage on his fork almost fell off.
Karen closed the book, a slight smile playing on her lips: "I'm researching the relationship between the phase properties of alchemical materials."
"Honestly," Fabian adjusted his glasses, "you've been studying with Professor Victor for so long, you should be above most students by now, right?"
Ernesto scoffed, "Not just students, I doubt even some alchemists can compare."
Karen shook his head. "Alchemy is vast and profound; I've only just begun." He recalled the complex arrays of runes his teacher Castor had demonstrated, and the obscure symbols on the parchment scrolls left by Nicolas Flamel. "And—"
His words were suddenly interrupted by a burning sensation in his chest. Karen pulled out a device; it displayed only a single line of text:
"7 PM tonight, don't bring anything else. —VE"
"Professor Victor?" Fabian asked sharply.
Karen nodded, put the instrument in her pocket, and continued eating.
In the afternoon herbalism class, Professor Sprout led everyone in handling the seedlings of the poisonous tentacles. Wearing thick dragon-skin gloves, Karen carefully transplanted the seedlings into larger pots. The poisonous tentacles were surprisingly docile in his hands, not attempting to wrap around his wrists as they had with others.
"You are very talented, dear," Professor Sprout said kindly. "After you finish your tutoring with Minerva, would you be interested in studying herbalism with me?"
Karen smiled and shook her head. "I prefer spells and alchemy, Professor. But I really enjoy herb class."
Professor Sprout blinked. "Ah, what a pity, but alchemy does indeed require a lot of time."
As the school bell rang, a light rain began to fall. Karen and her roommates hurried through the vegetable garden toward the castle, the rain soaking the hems of their robes. Back in the Ravenclaw tower, Karen immediately crawled into her bedroom, pulled a brass box from under her bed, and placed some of her belongings inside.
He checked the time; there were still two hours until his meeting with Professor Castor. Enough time for him to double-check his calculations and make sure everything was perfect.
The rain outside grew heavier, pounding against the castle's stained glass windows. Karen's quill scratched on the parchment, occasionally pausing to adjust the angle of a rune with his brass protractor. Wesley tried several times to invite him to dinner, but he politely declined each time.
"Just bring me some bread and cheese," he said without looking up. "It might be very late tonight."
At 6:50 p.m., Karen walked toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts office. The corridor was almost deserted, save for the flickering shadows cast by torches on the stone walls. His footsteps echoed through the empty corridor, mingling with the sound of rain to create a strange rhythm.
Karen stood in front of the Defense Against the Dark Arts office. As the door opened automatically, he smelled an unfamiliar metallic burning odor.
"Arrived on time, very good." Professor Castor's voice came from the darkness.
At this moment, Professor Castor stood before the modified workbench, his left sleeve as always tightly concealing the marks of the curse. On the table were three samples of very different materials: a kind of spider silk with a pearly luster, leather with scaly patterns, and the most eye-catching one—a piece of flowing silver substance, writhing in the cultured blood like liquid metal.
"Tonight we'll study the compatibility of magical materials." Castor picked up a spider silk thread with tweezers. "Eight-eyed Giant Spider silk, worth thirty Galleons per ounce. It can withstand extreme temperatures but is repelled by Transfiguration Charms."
Karen carefully took out her wool fabric: "I previously tried using the saliva of the Australian protein-eyed fire dragon as a fixative, which solved the problem of magic penetration into the base material, but the elasticity..."
"Right direction, but crude method." Castor lightly tapped the fabric with his wand, and under the Eye of Truth, Karen saw countless broken magical threads. "Look here, the enzymes of the Protein-Eyed Fire Dragon will destroy the natural structure of the wool. Try using Peruvian Venomous-Toothed Dragon Teardrops instead."
He pointed to the liquid metal: "The focus tonight is this shape memory alloy, invented by Nicolas Flamel based on fairy mithril. It not only changes shape with temperature changes, but can also remember three preset modes."
Karen held his breath. This was the material he had been dreaming of! But as he reached out to touch it, the silver substance suddenly trembled violently, almost leaping out of the cultured blood.
"Watch out!" Castor grabbed his wrist. "Unmixed shape memory alloys will absorb the body heat of anyone who comes into contact with them." He opened a drawer and took out a crystal bottle. "We need to stabilize it with moonlight water first."
Karen nodded, then suddenly remembered something: "Professor, regarding Lucian Sinclair, you previously said that Nicolas Flamel would come to Hogwarts?"
Professor Castor paused for a moment. "Yes. The exact time hasn't been set yet, but it shouldn't keep you waiting too long; he'll definitely be here this month." His gray eyes looked directly at Karen. "You care about this a lot?"
"I'm just curious," Karen said, choosing her words carefully, "why would a Slytherin wizard sign his journal as Ravenclaw? And..."
"And what he's researching is related to the Eye of Truth?" Professor Castor keenly picked up on his thoughts. "When Nico arrives, you can ask him yourself. They're close; Nico knows more than I do."
Night had completely fallen outside the window. As the clock struck ten, Karen was recording the third set of material reaction data. His parchment was covered with formulas, and his left sleeve was stained with a solution that shimmered with gold dust.
"That's all for today. You should go back and rest." Castor extinguished the alcohol lamp.
As Karen packed up her tools, she noticed her teacher's left arm twitch unnaturally. The marks of the curse seemed more pronounced than last month; faint black lines could be seen even beneath the tightly closed cuffs.
The days that followed seemed to be accelerated by a spell. Karen was busy with alchemy, regular classes, and evening private lessons. Occasionally, he would encounter provocations from purebloods, but they no longer dared to ambush him like Selwyn had. Naturally, all direct confrontations ended in Karen's victory. His magical level had far surpassed that of his peers, even leaving some older students in the dust.
It was another morning, and Karen was standing in front of a bookshelf in the library. Nearly a month had passed since Professor Castor mentioned Nicolas Flamel's visit, but there was still no definite news.
"Did you find anything?" Fabian's voice came from behind him. He was holding a book, and his glasses were covered in a few snowflakes.
Karen shook her head: "It's still the same information. Lucian Sinclair, professor of Conjuration, specializing in Ancient Runes."
He resigned in 1950 and disappeared in Egypt in 1953. "It was like walking into a dead end," he sighed.
Ernesto suddenly emerged from behind the bookshelf, his grey eyes gleaming. "You'll never guess what I found!" he whispered, excitedly waving a tattered diary. "The original manuscript of the professors' files in the school history, containing detailed records of all the professors!"
The three immediately surrounded him. Ernesto turned to a page and pointed to a blurry passage of text:
"Lucian Sinclair, during his teaching career from 1946 to 1949, repeatedly applied for a private study room in the Ravenclaw Tower. Of particular note was his unusual interest in a classroom on the fifth floor of the castle."
"The fifth floor?" Karen's heart raced. "Isn't that—"
"It's right near our Eagle's Nest!" Wesley exclaimed, drawing a stern look from Mrs. Pince.
Karen's mind raced. Lucien's interest in the Ravenclaw Tower and the fifth-floor classroom, the "Ravenclaw" signature in the diary, and the research on the Eye of Truth—all seemed to point to a connection he hadn't yet discovered.
"Perhaps we need to check the area around the Eagle's Nest again, and if possible, search the tower as well," he said softly. "Maybe we've missed something."
Just then, the bell rang, reminding them that Potions class was about to begin. The four hurriedly packed their books and rushed to the underground classroom. Professor Snape was going to explain a complicated antidote recipe today, and being late would be a bad idea.
The Potions classroom was filled with the strange smells of various herbs. Karen sat before the cauldron, carefully adding ground unicorn horn powder according to the instructions. His movements were precise and practiced; even Professor Snape's critical gaze couldn't find a fault.
"Stir seven times, counterclockwise," Professor Snape's somber voice echoed in the classroom. "Any deviation will cause the potion to fail, or worse, explode."
Karen was completely absorbed in her work when suddenly the classroom door was pushed open. All the students looked up in surprise to see Mr. Castor standing in the doorway.
"Excuse me, Severus," his voice was calm but firm, "Dumbledore needs to see Mr. Hawthorne immediately."
Snape's voice was somewhat low: "Now? Hawthorne is accomplishing a complex—"
"Immediately." Mr. Castor's gray eyes swept across the classroom, finally landing on Karen. "Take your things."
Karen.
Karen's heart skipped a beat. He quickly packed up his books and tools and walked towards the door amidst the curious gazes of his classmates.
As he passed Snape, he heard a barely audible snort.
"Don't take too long, Hawthorne. I'm not going to give you individual tutoring."