Chapter 131: The Principal's Black Robe, Absolute Calm Agent, and the Audit of the Underground Armory
May 1st, evening.
The sunset was like blood, staining the towers of Hogwarts a dark red.
In the Principal's office, the giant stone gargoyle still guarded the entrance in silence, but the atmosphere inside the room was suffocatingly oppressive.
Severus Snape sat in the chair that Dumbledore had once occupied.
He looked thinner and paler than ever, his black robes hanging loosely on his frame.
His left hand was pressed tightly against his right arm, where the dark mark was burning fiercely, conveying Lord Voldemort's overwhelming fury.
Gringotts had been robbed.
The Hufflepuff's Cup was gone.
The Dark Lord already knew that his Horcruxes were being hunted.
"He will come..." Snape muttered to the empty room, his forehead covered in a fine layer of cold sweat, "He will search every hiding place, and finally, he will come here."
"If I were you, Severus, I wouldn't be in such a rush to answer the call right now."
A calm voice came from the shadows.
Snape snapped his head up.
Morrin was standing beneath the portraits of the former Principals, holding an exquisite silver pocket watch and checking the time.
"Why are you here?" Snape's voice was hoarse, "You should be setting up defenses. Potter... that idiot Pottermust be rushing here."
"The defensive works have already been taken over by Lupin."
Morrin closed the pocket watch and walked to the desk.
"I came here to ensure that our 'key actor' doesn't forget his lines due to a mental breakdown before the final act begins."
Morrin looked at Snape's bloodshot, deeply exhausted eyes.
This man had been walking on that tightrope for too long.
Lord Voldemort's Legilimency was getting stronger, and although Snape's Occlumency was top-tier, under such extreme pressure, even the slightest emotional fluctuation could lead to total ruin.
"Your mental state is poor." Morrin said bluntly, "Your fear, anxiety, and even that... complex emotion you have for Lily Potter, are all like a leaking sieve right now."
"If Lord Voldemort were standing in front of you now, he would only need to look at you once to know you were lying."
Snape clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms: "I have no choice. I must go see him."
"You do have a choice."
Morrin pulled an inconspicuous gray glass bottle from his pocket.
The liquid inside was viscous and still, without a single ripple, like a pool of stagnant water.
[Alchemy Potion: Absolute Calm Agent (Absolute Calm)]
[Ingredients: Extract of Draught of Living Death, Mandrake root fibers, and... a small amount of 'Dementor's Apathy'.]
"Drink it."
Morrin pushed the bottle over.
"This isn't an ordinary sedative. It will temporarily sever the connection between the 'limbic system' and the 'prefrontal cortex' in your brain."
"Simply put..." Morrin's gaze was cold, "...for the next six hours, you will lose the ability to generate any 'emotions'. No fear, no love."
"You will become a machine of pure logic. Even if Lord Voldemort kills someone right in front of you, your heart rate won't increase by a single beat."
Snape looked at the vial of potion.
This was exactly what he needed right now.
The perfect disguise.
"What's the cost?" Snape asked, "A potion that forcibly strips away emotions must have significant side effects, right?"
"It might make you feel double the pain in the days after the potion wears off." Morrin shrugged, "But compared to being discovered by Lord Voldemort, what are these side effects?"
Snape was silent for two seconds, then pulled out the stopper and drank it in one gulp.
Just a few seconds later.
The anxiety, pain, and even the gloomy air on Snape's face all vanished.
His expression became as rigid as marble, his eyes hollow and calm, like a bottomless ancient well.
"How do you feel?" Morrin asked.
"Very quiet." Snape's voice no longer trembled, sounding terrifyingly steady, "My thinking is very clear."
"Very good."
Morrin nodded with satisfaction.
"Now, you can go report to Lord Voldemort. Tell him Pottermight come to Hogwarts. Guide him to choose this place as the battlefield."
"Because only here..."
Morrin looked at the grounds outside the window:
"...have I prepared enough 'audience' and 'funerals' for him."
Snape nodded, not saying another word. He turned into a cloud of black smoke, rushed out the window, and flew toward the Dark Lord's summoning site.
...
Eighth floor, Room of Requirement.
Morrin did not leave the Castle immediately.
He came to the eighth floor and walked three times in front of the wall opposite the tapestry.
"I need to inspect my... warehouse."
The door appeared.
Morrin pushed the door open and entered.
This was no longer the "dump" it had been before, nor was it just the "training ground" for the D.A. army.
It had become a huge, busy wartime command center.
Dozens of hammocks hung from the ceiling, housing the students hiding from The Caro Siblings.
A detailed map of Hogwarts hung on the wall, marked with various red crosses.
And on the other side of the room, wooden crates were piled high.
The crates were stamped with the logo of "White Heavy Industries".
Neville Longbottom was there, counting supplies.
He was much taller than before, with wounds on his face and tattered robes, but the look in that round-faced boy's eyes had completely changed.
It had become resolute, brave, and even carried a hint of murderous intent.
"Mr. White." Neville saw Morrin and stopped his work.
"Just call me Morrin, Neville."
Morrin walked over and tapped an open crate with his cane.
Inside were dozens of black, fist-sized spheres neatly arranged.
[Alchemy Shock Grenade].
"Is the stock enough?" Morrin asked.
"It's enough." Neville wiped his sweat, "We've used these'smoke balls' to blow up The Caro Siblings' toilets three times this week. They now have to use detection spells every time they go to the bathroom."
"That was just a prank."
Morrin shook his head and walked to another long, rectangular crate.
He opened the crate.
Inside were rows of silver tactical vests engraved with runes, similar to the ones Dobby wore, but lighter.
[Mithril Light Armor - Mass Produced].
"Distribute these tonight."
Morrin looked at Neville:
"Give one to every student who remains at the school and is prepared to fight."
"Are we fighting tonight?" Neville's breathing quickened.
"Yes."
Morrin surveyed the room.
Besides Neville, there were Ginny, Luna who insisted on coming back, Seamus, and others.
These children had gone through cruel tempering over the past year and were no longer students, but warriors.
"Harry Potter is on his way back. And Lord Voldemort..."
Morrin pointed to the ceiling:
"...he is right behind him."
"Neville, you are the commander here."
Morrin patted Neville's shoulder, his [Dragon Might] restrained, transforming into a steadying force of support:
"When the battle begins, I need you to hold the Castle's corridors and the Astronomy Tower. Don't fight head-on. Use this equipment, use the terrain."
"Remember, your mission is not to kill the enemy, but to survive."
"Only by staying alive can you enjoy the post-war dividends."
Neville nodded heavily: "Don't worry, Morrin. We will hold it. The D.A. army has been preparing for this day."
Morrin looked at these young faces.
He suddenly felt that this investment might have been the most correct one he had ever made.
These children were the future of Hogwarts and the cornerstone of his future business empire.
"Very good."
Morrin turned and walked toward the door.
"I'm going to the main entrance to welcome the savior."
"Also..."
Morrin's fingers gently stroked the top of his cane.
"...go check the 'welcome ceremony' I prepared for that group of Death Eaters, and see if the alchemy landmines have been buried."
The dark clouds of the great war were already pressing down on the towers of the Castle.
And Morrin, standing in the shadows, was smiling and waiting.
Chapter 132: Screams in the Corridor, Damaged Assets, and Expensive "Depreciation Fees
Late at night.
There were no lights in the corridors of Hogwarts, only the dim, flickering shadows cast by the torches on the walls.
The air was filled with an ancient scent of fear.
In this silence, a burst of suppressed sobbing sounded particularly jarring.
Outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom on the third floor, a thin, small first-year Hufflepuff girl was huddled in a corner, shivering.
Amicus Carrow had a cruel smile on his bloated, sagging face as he pointed his wand at her.
"Stop crying, mudblood!" Amicus roared viciously. "I told you to practice Crucio, and you dared to refuse? It seems you need to experience it yourself to understand the mercy of the Dark Lord!"
"No... Professor... please..." The girl covered her face in despair.
"Crucio—"
Thump.
A dull but piercing sound of a cane striking the floor interrupted Amicus's spellcasting.
"Good evening, Professor Carrow."
Amicus turned around abruptly.
Morrin White stepped slowly out of the shadows at the end of the corridor.
He was not wearing a school uniform, but had changed into a black tactical trench coat with dark silver armor plates, designed for ease of movement.
"White?" Amicus narrowed his eyes. The wariness in his eyes flashed and vanished, replaced by arrogance. "What? Is the Chairman of the Board of Governors here to manage my teaching now? The Dark Lord gave me the authority to punish students!"
"The authority was given by the Dark Lord, that is correct."
Morrin walked up to the crying girl, without even glancing at her, and extended his cane to gently lift a corner of the girl's torn robe.
"However..."
Morrin turned his head to look at Amicus, his eyes as cold as if he were looking at a financial report:
"...This student is 'property' of Hogwarts. More accurately, she is a 'potential asset' who may provide labor for the White Group in the future."
"If you torture her with Crucio, you will damage her nervous system, causing her future work efficiency to drop by 40%."
Morrin took a small notebook from his pocket; it was the "Asset Depreciation Record."
"Amicus, you are damaging my private property."
"Screw your property!" Amicus was enraged. He had long found this money-grubbing brat an eyesore. "This is wartime! I can torture whoever I want! Even you, White, if you dare to stop me, I will—"
Amicus raised his wand and pointed it at Morrin.
"Foolish."
Morrin sighed.
He did not draw his wand.
He just turned slightly and snapped his fingers.
Whoosh—thud!
In the darkness, two black figures dropped from the ceiling like ghosts.
They were two elite members of the Werewolf Guard, fully armed.
They had not transformed, but their strong physiques and alchemical equipment granted them terrifying speed.
One Werewolf instantly grabbed Amicus's wrist and twisted it hard.
"Crack!"
The wrist broke, and the wand fell to the ground.
The other Werewolf kicked Amicus in the back of the knee.
"Bang!"
This arrogant Death Eater Professor fell to his knees, letting out a scream like a slaughtered pig.
"Ah! My hand! How dare you touch me! I am one of the Dark Lord's men!"
"Make him shut up," Morrin ordered indifferently.
One Werewolf pulled out a rag, used for cleaning cauldrons, and stuffed it hard into Amicus's mouth.
Morrin walked up to the kneeling Amicus and looked down at him.
"Professor Carrow, let's settle the accounts."
Morrin gently tapped Amicus's swollen face with his cane:
"Over this past year, thirty-seven students have been tortured by you with Crucio. Fifty-two have been injured while in detention with you."
"According to the 'White Security Company Compensation Regulations'..."
Morrin's cane pressed down hard, the mithril tip piercing Amicus's skin and resting against his cheekbone.
"...You need to pay 500 Galleons per person in 'medical expenses' and 'depreciation fees'."
"That is a total of 44,500 Galleons."
Amicus's eyes widened, he let out muffled cries, his eyes full of fear.
How could he have that much money?
"No money?"
Morrin smiled, a smile that looked particularly sinister under the torchlight.
"If you don't have money, pay with your flesh."
"Break three of his ribs as a down payment."
Morrin turned away, no longer looking at him.
Behind him came dull thuds and the sound of breaking bones.
The Hufflepuff girl fainted from fright.
"Take her to Madam Pomfrey," Morrin said to the other Werewolf. "Put it on my tab."
Five minutes later, at the entrance to the Ravenclaw tower.
Morrin adjusted his slightly disheveled collar and arrived there.
Alecto Carrow, Amicus's sister, was guarding the place, waiting to catch Harry Potter.
"Brother?" Alecto heard footsteps and thought it was Amicus. "Why are you only just arriving? That Potter might—"
She turned around, only to see a cold, stern face.
"Good evening, madam."
Morrin smiled, holding something in his hand—it was Amicus, being dragged along the ground like a dead dog.
"Your brother owes me some money and is currently paying interest. I thought, as a family member, you might need to share some of the debt?"
"Amicus!" Alecto screamed, raising her wand to attack.
"Expelliarmus."
A red light struck first.
It wasn't cast by Morrin.
It shot out from the shadows nearby.
Luna Lovegood walked out from behind the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw.
She held her wand in her hand; although her eyes were still a bit dazed, her movements were exceptionally decisive.
Alecto's wand flew away.
"Thank you, Luna." Morrin nodded in approval.
He stepped forward and kicked Alecto, who was trying to retrieve her wand, to the ground.
"It seems Ravenclaw students are not as weak as I imagined."
Morrin looked at the two siblings lying on the ground and waved to the Werewolf Guard behind him.
"Pack up this trash."
"Send them to the dungeon. Don't let them die, and don't let them escape."
A glint flashed in Morrin's eyes:
"When Harry Potter arrives later, he might want to 'land a few hits' on them himself. We need to leave some punching bags for the savior to vent on."
"Yes, boss." The werewolves dragged the two unconscious Death Eaters away.
The corridor returned to silence.
Luna put away her wand and walked to Morrin's side.
"Is Harry here?" she asked.
"Soon."
Morrin walked to the window, looking at the pitch-black grounds.
He could feel several hurried breaths approaching in the secret passage leading to the Hog's Head Inn.
"He will go to your common room first," Morrin said to Luna. "He is probably looking for the diadem of ravenclaw."
Morrin remembered he had told Harry and the others that the diadem of ravenclaw had been dealt with.
"Take him there, Luna."
Morrin patted Luna's head:
"Take him to see that statue. It's part of the script."
"What about you?" Luna asked.
"I am going to the Great Hall."
Morrin gripped his cane tightly, his gaze fixed in the direction of the Castle gates.
"Lord Voldemort's army has already reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest."
"As the 'landlord,' I have to go and support PrincipalSnape."
"By the way..."
A look of arrogant amusement curled the corners of Morrin's mouth:
"...I'm going to give those Death Eaters who think Hogwarts is a pushover an open lecture on 'Modern Warfare Defense Systems'."
"The show has begun."
Chapter 133 The Requirement Room's Armory, the Resistance's Point System, and the Final Supply
The portrait of Ariana in the Hog's Head Inn swung open like a door. A smell mixed with moldy earth and old stone rushed into their faces.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed behind Neville Longbottom, struggling forward in the dark and narrow secret passage.
By the light of his wand, Harry looked at Neville in shock.
Neville had changed.
There was a deep wound on his face, and his hair had grown long enough to cover his eyes. Although his robes were worn, a heavy belt hung around his waist, filled with various strange metal tubes and Potion bottles.
"You've come at just the right time," Neville gasped as he walked. "We're barely holding on… or rather, The Caro Siblings are about to be tormented to death by us."
"What's that about?" Ron pointed at the shiny things on Neville's waist. "Are those bombs?"
"This is the [White Tactical Belt]," Neville patted the belt, a hint of pride in his tone. "It contains two bottles of powerful Blood-Replenishing Potion, three smoke bombs, and a spare alchemical dagger. That's 'employee benefits' from Morrin."
"Employees?" Hermione frowned.
"We're here."
Neville pushed open the door at the end of the secret passage.
A burst of boisterous cheers instantly drowned them out.
Harry climbed out of the hole, straightened his body, and looked around. He was stunned.
Was this still the Room of Requirement he remembered?
It was no longer that cozy practice room, but a huge, well-organized wartime camp.
Dozens of hammocks hung in mid-air, and colorful house banners were still fluttering, although the Slytherin banner was hung in a corner.
But most striking were the mountains of wooden crates stacked against the wall.
The crates were printed with a conspicuous "W" (White Heavy Industries) logo.
Some crates were open, revealing bundles of [Mithril Bracers] and [Auto-Targeting Biting Cabbage (Improved Version)] inside; there was even a huge blackboard with today's "Task List" written on it.
Task 1: Sabotage The Caro Siblings' megaphone — Reward: 50 White Points.
Task 2: Rescue first-years in detention — Reward: 100 White Points + one Healing Potion.
Task 3: Spill anti-slip alchemical oil in the hallway — Reward: 20 points.
"This is how we survive."
Neville walked to the blackboard, picked up a piece of chalk, and crossed off the "Sabotage megaphone" item.
"Morrin White established a 'Resistance Point System.' As long as we cause trouble for the Death Eaters or protect vulnerable students, we can exchange for supplies from him."
Neville pointed to an alchemical cabinet in the corner that looked like a vending machine:
"That's the [Unmanned Supply Station]. Just insert the point card, and it can spit out food, Potion, or even the kind of tactical gear you saw earlier."
"This…" Ron's mouth hung open. "This is too… too cool! I want points too!"
"This is war, Ron." Hermione looked at those weapons, her expression complex. "Morrin has turned the resistance into a… mercenary game."
"But it kept us alive."
Ginny Weasley squeezed out from the crowd; her hair was a bit messy, but her eyes were bright.
"Harry!" She rushed over and gave Harry a hug.
"Ginny…" Harry was a bit at a loss. "Does… Morrin come here often?"
"He rarely shows his face." Ginny let go of Harry and pointed to the ceiling. "He's like a ghost. But he always knows what we need. Last time, before Luna was taken away, it was he who gave Luna that amulet."
"By the way, where is Luna?" Harry asked.
"I'm here."
An ethereal voice sounded.
Luna Lovegood was sitting on a pile of crates labeled "High-Explosive Alchemical Materials," swinging her legs.
She was unharmed, even looking a bit chubbier, having eaten too well at the Morrin Manor.
"Morrin just took The Caro Siblings away." Luna said.
Just as everyone was exchanging information in a flurry of voices,
Hum—
A huge alchemical projector in the center of the room suddenly activated automatically.
A blue light projected into mid-air; it was the image of Morrin White.
The room instantly fell silent.
The members of the D.A. instinctively looked at the image; that was their "patron" and also their "arms dealer."
Morrin in the image was standing on a high tower somewhere in the Castle, with the pitch-black night sky and the assembling Death Eater army in the background.
"Good evening, everyone in the D.A."
Morrin's voice clearly spread throughout the room:
"If you are seeing this recording, it means—the bespectacled troublemaker has returned."
Harry: "…"
"This means the incubation period is over. Total war is about to begin."
Morrin in the image waved his hand.
Several locked large iron crates in the corner of the Room of Requirement suddenly popped open automatically.
Click! Click!
Inside were rows of brand-new, cold-glinting [black ironwood Standard wands (Mass-Produced Version)] and [Dragon-Hide Tactical Trench Coats].
"This is the final supply."
Morrin's voice became serious and cold:
"Lord Voldemort is right outside. He has brought Giants, the remaining Werewolves, and Dementors."
"You only have half an hour to change."
"Neville Longbottom."
Neville, being named, straightened his back.
"Take your people and hold the Astronomy Tower and the covered bridge. Do not let the Death Eaters rush into the Great Hall."
"Remember, the equipment on you is very expensive. I don't want to see them become unclaimed relics."
"As for Harry Potter…"
Morrin in the image turned his head, his black eyes seeming to pierce through time and space, staring directly at Harrystanding in the crowd:
"…I will wait for you in the Great Hall. Professor Snape has a'story' to tell you."
"Don't be late."
Bzz—
The image disappeared.
The room fell into a brief silence, followed by an outbreak of preparation clamor.
Students rushed to the crates, put on the dragon-hide trench coats, and picked up the special spare wands.
They were no longer shivering children, but a well-equipped army.
"This is insane," Ron said while putting on the trench coat. "I feel like we're about to rob Gringotts."
"We just finished robbing it," Harry reminded him.
Harry watched the busy classmates around him, a warm current surging in his heart.
Although Morrin's methods were full of the stench of money, and although he treated everything as business… he had indeed armed everyone.
"Let's go."
Harry gripped his wand and said to Hermione and Ron:
"Go find the diadem of ravenclaw. Then… go to the Great Hall."
"I want to ask Snape what kind of story he wants to tell."
Neville was distributing alchemical grenades: "Harry! Take this!" He shoved two black spheres into Harry's hands. "Morrin said this thing can blow off a Giant's toes!"
Harry took the grenades; they were heavy.
"Thanks, Neville."
He turned to look at the door.
The door of the Room of Requirement opened.
Outside the door was not a corridor, but a battlefield.
And in the center of the battlefield, that Slytherin who controlled everything was waiting for the final opening act.
Chapter 134: The Crossed-Out List, Luna's Resort, and the Principal's Final Performance
Outside the Room of Requirement.
The corridor was empty, save for the occasional sounds of explosions and screams in the distance.
Harry Potter had just taken a step when he suddenly stopped. He spun around violently and grabbed Ron and Hermione, who were about to rush toward the stairs.
"Wait." Harry panted, the hot blood in his brain cooling slightly. "We don't need to go find the diadem of ravenclaw."
"What?" Ron braked to a halt, nearly crashing into Hermione. "But didn't you just say..."
"I was too hasty just now, my mind was a mess."
Harry leaned against the wall, steadying his breathing, and pulled the crumpled Horcrux list from his pocket:
"diary — destroyed."
"Ring — Dumbledore handled it."
"Locket — in Morrin's hands."
"Cup — we destroyed it at Gringotts."
Harry's finger paused on the "Diadem" entry, his expression complex:
"The Diadem... Morrin said in the two-way mirror that he had already taken that thing from the Room of Requirement long ago. He said he had already... 'handled' it."
"He really took it?" Hermione was somewhat incredulous. "That's a relic of a Hogwarts founder!"
"He's a lunatic who dares to slice up Dementors." Harrygave a bitter smile. "Collecting a diadem is nothing to him. And... since he said he handled it, then it really is handled. In this regard, he never lies."
"Then that only leaves us with..." Ron swallowed hard.
"That snake." Harry tightened his grip on his wand. "Nagini. And Lord Voldemort himself."
"And Harry."
A light, airy voice cut in.
Luna Lovegood stood behind them.
She was wearing the dragon-hide tactical trench coat that Morrin had given her; it looked a bit big, but a dreamy smile hung on her face.
"Morrin said you are the final key." Luna looked at Harry. "But he didn't say whether this key is for opening the door or locking it."
"Luna," Hermione looked at her, "have you really been... at Morrin's house all this time?"
"Yes."
Luna nodded, her eyes full of nostalgia. At this life-or-death moment before the battle, her tone sounded as if she were describing a spring outing:
"It's very big there. There are no Nargles. Morrin prepared a special room for me, and the ceiling is painted with real stars. Every morning, a butler named Alfred brings hot pudding."
"I also saw the dragon that flew away from Gringotts." Luna gestured. "It lives in the back garden now. Morrinhealed its eyes, and it's gained a bit of weight; it's currently helping Morrin guard the vault."
Harry and Ron looked at each other.
They had been eating tree bark in the wilderness, sleeping in tents, and being hunted by snatchers.
And Luna was at Morrin's estate... feeding dragons, eating pudding, and watching stars?
"This isn't fair!" Ron roared indignantly. "I want to be kidnapped by Morrin too!"
"That was 'political asylum', Weasley."
Harry took a deep breath, suppressing the absurdity in his heart.
Morrin White... that man really had arranged everything.
He was like a brilliant chess player, placing everyone in the most suitable position.
"Let's go." Harry gripped his wand again, his eyes turning firm. "Since we don't need to look for the Horcrux, let's get down to business."
"Go to the Great Hall. Go find Snape."
"I want to ask him which side he is really on."
...
The Great Hall foyer.
When Harry and his group arrived, it was already shrouded in an eerie, confrontational atmosphere.
Professor McGonagall stood at the top of the stairs, her wand pointed forward. Behind her, Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout had also hurried over.
And opposite them stood a single person.
Severus Snape.
The current Principal.
He looked gloomier than ever.
That black robe wrapped around his gaunt body like a bat ready to strike.
"They say you killed Dumbledore." Professor McGonagall's voice trembled with extreme anger. "If you have any conscience left, Severus, step aside. We are going to protect the students."
"I am in charge here, Minerva." Snape said coldly, his voice terrifyingly steady—the effect of an absolute calming agent. "The Dark Lord is coming. Your resistance is meaningless."
"That is our choice!"
Professor McGonagall waved her wand violently.
A whip of fire roared out.
Snape raised his wand—it was an exquisitely precise defensive spell.
He didn't even counterattack, just blocked continuously.
"Coward!" Harry rushed out from under his invisibility cloak and roared.
Snape's eyes flickered. He saw Harry.
Those green eyes.
"Potter..." Snape murmured.
Just as Professor McGonagall prepared to cast the next spell, Snape suddenly moved.
He did not attack Professor McGonagall.
His wand whipped backward, striking the two Death Eaters behind him who were preparing to ambush Professor McGonagall—although The Caro Siblings had been caught by Morrin, there were other followers.
The two Death Eaters screamed as they crashed into the wall.
Then, Snape turned into a cloud of black smoke, smashed directly through the high window of the Great Hall, and flew out.
"He ran!" Ron shouted.
"No, he's drawing the enemy away."
A cold voice sounded from the railing on the second floor.
Everyone looked up.
Morrin White was standing there, holding a glass of red wine, as if the breathtaking duel just now was merely an appetizer.
"Morrin?" Professor McGonagall looked at him in surprise.
"Good evening, Professor."
Morrin walked slowly down the stairs, the sound of his leather shoes striking the marble clearly audible.
"Principal Snape's term... has ended."
Morrin walked to the center of the hall, looking around at the panic-stricken students and teachers.
"From now on, Hogwarts is under a 'wartime state of emergency'."
"According to Board Resolution No. 101..."
Morrin raised his cane and struck it heavily on the ground.
Hum—
The Castle's defensive barrier emitted a low roar.
That was the sound of the alchemy array Morrin had long since laid out being activated.
"...I, Morrin White, am taking over the Castle's defense."
"Professor McGonagall." Morrin looked at this GryffindorDean. "Please organize the lower-year students to evacuate through the secret passage in the Hog's Head. That is the only safe route."
"As for those staying to fight..."
Morrin looked at Harry, then at Luna, Neville, Ginny, and the others behind him.
"...Go get your equipment. The White Heavy Industriesweapon crates have been opened."
"This is war, everyone."
A hint of golden light flashed in Morrin's eyes:
"Not for honor, and not for justice. But for survival."
Just then.
A high-pitched, cold, sound like fingernails scraping against glass suddenly rang in everyone's minds.
That was Lord Voldemort's voice.
"I know you are preparing to resist..."
"Hand over Harry Potter... and I will not harm you..."
"I give you one hour..."
The Great Hall was deathly silent.
Everyone's gaze was fixed on Harry.
"There!"
Beside the Slytherin table, Pansy Parkinson suddenly stood up, screaming and pointing at Harry:
"He's there! Catch him! Hand him over to the Dark Lord!"
Harry subconsciously raised his wand. The Gryffindorstudents immediately blocked Harry's front.
"Are we going to fight?" Ron rolled up his sleeves.
"No."
Morrin turned around, looked at Pansy, and then looked at the Slytherin students who were itching to move.
"It seems some people have forgotten the rules I set."
Morrin sighed and waved his hand at the shadows behind him.
"Alfred, and Lupin."
"Yes, young master."
"Take Miss Parkinson, and all the students who want to surrender..."
Morrin's tone was as indifferent as if he were dealing with expired goods:
"...Please escort them all to the dungeon. It's cool there, suitable for helping them calm down."
"As for the other Slytherins..."
Morrin looked at Malfoy, the boy who was trembling.
"Draco, do you want to go to the dungeon, or do you want to pick up your wand and defend your school like a man?"
Malfoy looked at Morrin, then at Harry.
He
"I... I'll listen to you, Morrin."
"Very good."
Morrin turned to face the door.
"One hour."
"Enough for us to turn this Castle into a solid fortress."
Chapter 135: The Hour of Truce, the Out-of-Control time-turner, and New York Harbor in the Mist
Hogwarts fell into a brief and suffocating silence.
Lord Voldemort's voice had just faded away; he had given the defenders one hour to surrender Harry Potter.
The Great Hall had been turned into a temporary field hospital.
Madam Pomfrey and the volunteers from Slytherin were busy treating the wounded.
The Weasley Family was gathered together; Fred was injured, but fortunately, Morrin's equipment had saved his life, and he was currently receiving treatment.
Morrin White left the Great Hall alone.
He did not go to the front lines to organize the defenses, but instead came to the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor, his private alchemy laboratory.
"Young Master." Alfred stood guard at the door, his expression grave. "Are you certain you want to do this? The magical environment right now is extremely unstable."
"It must be done, Alfred."
Morrin pushed the door open and walked into the room filled with precision instruments.
"Although Lord Voldemort has temporarily retreated, I have discovered a problem."
Morrin walked to the experimental table, looking at the "Slytherin Locket (Empty Shell)" and "Ravenclaw Diadem (Empty Shell)" sealed within the alchemical array.
"Although his soul has been sliced up, the 'primordial connection' between him and Harry is even deeper than I imagined. If I forcibly kill Lord Voldemort, Harry will die too. This would cause my 'the savior IP' assets to drop to zero."
"I need to find a method capable of stripping away the primordial soul. Modern magic cannot do it, and Dumbledore cannot do it either."
Morrin took the golden "time-turner" from his pocket.
"I need to go to the'source' to take a look."
Morrin's eyes flashed with a frantic desire for knowledge: "I want to trace back to the moment in time when Tom Riddlecreated a Horcrux to analyze the fluctuations of the laws at that instant. Or... go and find older records regarding 'obscurus', that form of pure magic."
"That is too dangerous." Alfred warned.
"High risk, high reward."
Morrin picked up the Black Ironwood Wand and injected the aura of the elder wand and the'spell maximization' characteristic he had 'borrowed' from Dumbledore into it.
"[Gate of Truth]— Time anchor locked."
Morrin began to turn the hourglass.
One turn.
Two turns.
Three turns...
The surrounding air began to distort, and golden runes darted wildly around the room.
However, an accident occurred.
Just at the moment Morrin was preparing to activate it, from the direction of the Forbidden Forest outside the Castle, Lord Voldemort seemed to sense some kind of threat and let out a heaven-shaking roar.
A massive wave of Dark Arts energy struck the defensive barrier of Hogwarts.
Boom!
The Castle shook violently.
The alchemical array in the laboratory instantly lost stability due to this external magical impact!
"Warning! Timeline deviation!" The system in Morrin's mind gave a frantic alarm.
The time-turner in his hand began to spin frantically, moving so fast that its shadow couldn't be seen, and the golden sand grains turned into a scorching stream of light.
"Damn it! The brakes have failed!"
Morrin tried to stop the magical output, but that massive energy formed a vortex, sucking him entirely into it.
"Alfred! Keep the business safe! Wait for my return!"
This was the last sentence Morrin left behind.
The next second.
Golden light exploded.
Morrin White's figure disappeared into thin air from the Room of Requirement.
Only the wreckage of the broken time-turner remained, smoking as it fell to the floor.
Who knows how much time had passed.
Damp and cold.
This was Morrin's first sensation after regaining consciousness.
There was no smell of gunpowder from Hogwarts, nor the smell of blood.
Instead, there was a strong...
Morrin opened his eyes abruptly.
He realized he was not standing in the Castle, but on a pier filled with thick fog.
Beneath his feet were wet wooden planks, and in the distance, the dull sound of a ship's whistle drifted over.
Woo—
"Where is this?"
Morrin stood up quickly, the black ironwood wand sliding into his hand instantly, and he looked around vigilantly.
The crowd around him were not Wizards wearing robes, but Muggles wearing grey coats, flat caps, or bowler hats.
They hurried along, carrying suitcases, their expressions weary and numb.
Morrin looked down at his own attire.
Fortunately, he was accustomed to wearing a suit and trench coat, so he did not appear out of place.
He walked to a newsstand by the pier and picked up a newspaper.
It was not The Daily Prophet.
It was The New York Times.
Morrin's gaze swept over the front page, and his pupils constricted sharply.
The date printed clearly above was: November 5, 1926.
"1926..."
Morrin put down the newspaper, looking at the Statue of Liberty looming in the mist in the distance, as well as the skyscrapers under construction.
"I have not only crossed space, but I have also crossed time."
"This time... the stakes are huge."
But he did not panic.
On the contrary, the corners of Morrin's mouth slowly curled into an extremely interested arc.
1926.
That was a crazy era.
The eve of the Great Depression, the golden age of jazz.
It was also... when Gellert Grindelwald was ravaging Europe.
"System, check status."
"[Current Location]: United States, New York."
"[Current Time]: 1926."
"[System Update]: Enabling [Echoes of History] mode."
"[Current Draws]: 0."
"Penniless, no identity, stranded in a foreign land."
Morrin adjusted his collar, looking at this New World full of opportunities and easy pickings.
"But that won't stump a capitalist."
Just then, a young man carrying a brown, old suitcase, wearing a peacock-blue coat with messy hair, was walking out of the customs passage in a somewhat dazed manner, nearly bumping into Morrin.
Newt Scamander.
Morrin looked at that battered suitcase, a glint of sharpness flashing in his eyes.
He knew that the suitcase contained an entire zoo.
"It seems my first 'angel investment' has been found."
Morrin stood in the crowd, the black ironwood wand in his hand tapping lightly on the ground, blocking the young man carrying the battered suitcase.
"Sir?"
The young man stopped, clutching the suitcase in his arms somewhat flusteredly.
He was wearing a peacock-blue coat, a scarf, and his hair was messy; his eyes were always evasive, not daring to meet anyone's gaze.
Newt Scamander.
A dropout from Hufflepuff House at Hogwarts, who later became a famous Magizoologist, and the author of that textbook "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" that Harry Potter used in school.
At this moment, he was carrying a suitcase full of illegally imported magical creatures, trying to sneak into the United States, which had very strict checks on such things.
"Your suitcase."
Morrin pointed his wand at the lock of the suitcase.
"If it were an ordinary person, they might think there were just a few old clothes inside. But I heard... the sound of some kind of claws scratching against wood."
Newt was startled and hurriedly looked down to check: "Oh, thank you, it's a bit... the lock is broken."