A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Within the temporary tent, Ron sat back in his chair, sighing deeply, "This night seems never-ending."

"Yeah," Hermione absentmindedly replied.

"Do you have anything to eat?" Ron inquired.

Hermione turned to look at him.

"Hermione, I barely had dinner," Ron spread his hands, looking forlorn. "If I don't eat something soon, I'll starve before Mrs. Pomfrey arrives."

"Always about eating," Hermione grumbled as she rummaged through a beaded purse, tossing some snacks to Ron. After doing so, she realized she'd snapped for no apparent reason.

"Don't worry, Hermione. Professors have come back from the dead; nothing's going to happen now," Ron, understanding her thoughts, comforted her before examining the package in his hand. "What's this?"

"Chips and chocolate," Hermione said.

"I've never seen these before..." Ron murmured softly, tearing open the bag and scrutinizing a chip before tasting it, his eyes lighting up.

"Tastes good," Ron sighed contentedly. "You used to eat these as a kid? Let me try the chocolate... Hmm, not bad, but I still think Chocolate Frogs taste better."

Before long, he finished them.

"Any more, Hermione?" Ron couldn't help asking.

Hermione searched carefully. "All that's left are some compressed biscuits, not much flavor—"

"No problem!"

For the next while, the only sounds in the tent were Ron eating.

"Crunch, crunch."

"How long do you think Professor will stay in this state?" Hermione asked worriedly, Felix now resembling a luminous statue.

"Um... not sure. Dumbledore will be here soon; you can ask him... Crunch, crunch..."

Suddenly, urgent footsteps approached the tent from outside.

"Someone's coming," Hermione said.

"Great," Ron said.

"I'll go check," Hermione, feeling somewhat anxious, got up and walked towards the tent's curtain.

...

After some time passed, Felix opened his eyes, slowly scanning the surroundings.

The tent was empty.

He barely suppressed the boiling magical energy within him, keeping it from becoming too active.

He had just experienced... no, the ongoing miraculous changes. Firstly, magic, akin to boiling water, had become highly unstable, far surpassing any magical outburst he'd ever experienced. Even now, magic flowed through him like a bubbling stream. Secondly, his body; magic surged in every corner, causing transformations in his flesh, skin, and bones. ⱤάΝǑＢËʂ

These changes seemed to touch the essence of life and magic. Felix believed his body was a vast treasure trove awaiting his exploration.

Only now did he completely relax his heart.

Felix thought calmly, admitting to himself that he had weakened slightly during the battle with Voldemort. In theory, they should have been evenly matched, but Voldemort's Killing Curse was unexpectedly powerful. Every encounter with the green light of that curse sent shivers down his spine.

He absolutely couldn't be hit; it was a survival instinct. Yet, at that time, he had no choice. Magical puppets and illusions crafted by the Thought Chamber couldn't deceive a wizard as skilled as Voldemort.

He had to genuinely die once.

Unless he wanted to witness others dying...

"Everyone has the right to choose. I've made mine, Miss Jean. Farewell," Felix said softly.

A commotion outside the tent reached his ears, along with the hurried footsteps of hundreds, but Felix paid them no mind. He was entirely absorbed in his changes, lifting his left hand, where every line gleamed with crystalline light.

Under his gaze, a book of runes materialized out of thin air, pages flipping with a rustle. Magical projections emerged, and Felix felt a sensation. At his will, countless runes surged within him, no longer needing active concentration; ancient magic formed instantly.

"The Book of Runes should be used in conjunction with the transformed body," Felix pondered. He'd try it sometime later. He tucked the book into his left hand, seamlessly merging it with his body—a fortuitous solution to the problem of where to keep it.

By now, the outside voices grew louder. He heard Hermione's sharp voice, Harry's frustrated cries, Dumbledore's steady rebuttals, and Fawkes's agitated squawks, accompanied by uneasy movements that seemed chaotic.

"Fawkes..."

Felix's gaze flickered, anticipating this scene, bound to occur sooner or later. If not today, then tomorrow or the day after. As long as Fawkes denied Voldemort's existence, he would trouble Dumbledore and Felix. To prevent this from continuing, Felix had made some preparations in advance.

"Dobby," he whispered.

A loud explosion was confined within the narrow space, reverberating within the temporary tent, unable to escape. Felix withdrew his hand, calmly watching the appearance of the house-elf.

Dobby maintained his usual attire but carried a large bag.

"So, Voldemort and the Death Eaters left?"

"Y-yes, Mr. Hepburn! You guessed it correctly!" Dobby trembled at the name, then his big eyes gleamed with adoration, staring at Felix. "I never imagined Dobby could participate in such a grand event. Dobby is so honored."

"However, some unfortunate things were damaged," he cautiously glanced at Felix, opening the bag behind him. "It's not your fault. I was prepared for this."

The bag contained some small handheld cameras and their shattered remains—yes, Muggle products, devoid of any magical traces, purchased in bulk by 'Future World' for research purposes at a discount.

During Harry's ordeal with the Cruciatus Curse, Felix had placed some around the graveyard's periphery. Understandably, due to the massive destruction in the graveyard battle, some were lost.

"Dobby collected what he could find. Maybe they can be repaired," Dobby straightened his chest proudly.

"...You did well, Dobby." Felix glanced at the thoroughly damaged tapes in the bag, unsure if they could be magically repaired.

He picked up a functional camera, fiddled with the buttons, and peered down at the poor-quality image. Nonetheless, he was satisfied. "Voldemort's bald head stands out... Dobby, hide them, and don't disclose it to anyone."

"Understood, Mr. Hepburn!" Dobby beamed, pleased at gaining Felix's trust. He shouldered the large bag again. "Sir, if Mr. Lupin or Harry Potter ask—"

"They know nothing of this," Felix said expressionlessly.

"Oh... alright." With a snap of his fingers, Dobby vanished from the tent.

Felix gazed deeply at the spot where Dobby had disappeared.

He should have informed Dumbledore. That would've been safer. But ultimately, he vetoed that approach. It had nothing to do with personal feelings—his relationship with Dumbledore had always been fine. It was about minimizing variables, completely controlling the situation. So, he chose Dobby over Dumbledore, to maintain control.

"Hearts are inscrutable..." he murmured.

>

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