The slacker professor at Hogwarts

Chapter 332 A Gift of Fate

Chapter 332 A Gift of Fate

Bokinbock Store, late at night.

Tom, in the prime of his life, was carefully wiping a strange bronze statue with a clean white silk cloth—a half-human-sized statue with seven heads: one on the neck, one on the back of the head, one on the stomach, two on the shoulders, and two on the knees.

After wiping it clean, he took out a small silver knife inlaid with gems and magical runes and reached into the hollowed-out chest cavity of the statue, gently scraping away the traces left by the burning lamp oil inside.

This dark magic item, imbued with dark power, was priced at 3000 Galleons by the shopkeeper, Mr. Bojin. The extremely high price naturally highlights its precious value.

Tom was confident he could sell it for 5000 Galleons. The extra money, of course, wasn't for winning Mr. Borgin's praise, but to secretly put into his own little piggy bank.

He was like a hardworking squirrel, constantly hoarding nuts in his tree hole, patiently waiting for his opportunity to arrive, which would be an extremely important source of start-up capital!

It'll be soon!

That alligator snapping turtle's belly is almost full!

Just thinking about this scene would make Tom feel happy, and he would even hum a Muggle song tune.

He certainly didn't like Muggles, but he had only been exposed to Muggle music, his childhood, and the orphanages in the noisy, boring Muggle world where he was restricted from using his wand during summer and winter vacations.

Opportunities to be exposed to music are not many.

Hogwarts is different from Muggle schools; there are no music classes there, and they don't even teach literacy.

Of course.

For an ambitious young man like him with great aspirations, earning this little bit of Galleons is the least important thing.

The most important thing, of course, is to befriend the dark wizards who are everywhere in Knockturn Alley, and the high-quality magical items and alchemical products offered by Borginborough are what attract them the most.

Tom can use this opportunity to befriend the most powerful dark wizards, build connections, and try to get some help from them about dark magic.

This is also one of the reasons why, after graduation, he did not follow the arrangement of his most beloved teacher, Professor Slughorn, to go to the Ministry of Magic, but instead came here to work.

There is nowhere more accessible to dark wizards than here, especially the most valuable ones.

There are very few customers tonight.

After cleaning the statue, Tom looked out of the shop with some boredom. In the cold, damp alley across from the street, the lovey-dovey couple finally left and went into a small bar called "Intoxicating Midnight" that sold drinks and alcohol.

"Hopefully they won't be thrown out naked."

Tom muttered a sarcastic remark, knowing that the tavern owner across the street was a dark wizard and potion master, whose specialty was to subtly add potent, slow-release aphrodisiacs to drinks without anyone noticing, and to use some extremely unorthodox architectural and decorative arts to create an environment that would release the potion's effects.

Many male and female witches who have been tricked into thinking they have been drinking and eating forbidden fruit will scream and run out of the small room of the tavern in the early morning. The instinctive horror and escape brought about by the "architectural power of darkness" will force them to leave their belongings in the tavern and instinctively resist going back to retrieve them.

Some of the men and women didn't even have time to put on their clothes.

Why does Tom know this so clearly?

That's because the tavern owner across the street is one of the suppliers for Bokin & Bok's shop.

It gives off a vibe of people shooting birds in the park's groves or fishing in the park's lake next to a park barbecue stall, and then supplying the food to the barbecue stall owner.

The night grew even darker.

It was time to fall asleep.

This is precisely the time when dark wizards like to be active. Those who don't know this often laugh at them, thinking they are like rats living in the gutter. But in fact, the dark night is when mysterious forces are most active.

Those wizards whose souls have been corrupted by dark forces are most likely to sense this power and receive its blessings.

Dark and gloomy—mystery can sometimes be that simple.

In ancient times, when humans were still practicing slash-and-burn agriculture, nighttime was precisely the time when wild beasts were most active and dangerous. It was always these wizards who sacrificed their souls to the forces of darkness who protected humanity.

Black wizards shouldn't be universally condemned and excluded from political correctness.

Black magic has always been one of humanity's most precious treasures. Like Muggle guns, missiles, and tanks, it represents the ominous nature of war, yet it is also humanity's most valuable force in protecting its homeland.

And some people, yes, Dumbledore and his ilk, who reached an extremely high level because of their own extraordinary talents, used the deceptive tactic of "I can be this powerful without dark magic" to distort the public's perception and make wizards abandon the most powerful force they have possessed since ancient times: dark magic!

It's like a powerful, wealthy country that has grown through economic development telling others that as long as it focuses on developing trade, its residents can live in peace and prosperity, and then demanding that all the world's missiles and warships be destroyed.

Beneath the righteous rhetoric lies an extremely evil scheme.

That's at least what Tom thought when he was young.

He knew, of course, that dark magic could distort the soul, but even Muggles who had killed or been on the battlefield all suffered from mental illnesses; it was a necessary price to pay, an inevitable path. (It seems Westerners are prone to PTSD after war, I don't know why. Mental illness obviously can't be simply categorized as "being dramatic"; it is indeed an illness.)

This is the path to becoming strong.

Tom even actively sought out dark magic that would twist his soul, so that he could more easily experience the wonder of dark power.

Jingle bell~~

The wind chimes hanging on the door sounded crisp and melodious in the darkness.

Someone pushed open the glass door of the shop. The person was wearing a large trench coat, a top hat with a wide brim, and a scarf around his neck, covering himself up completely.

However, Tom recognized the other person immediately.

Coban Yaxley.

Like Tom's boss, Mr. Borkin, he comes from the Holy Twenty-Eight Pureblood Family.

Tom stared intently as the other person approached, but in his mind he wasn't entirely convinced by the concept of the "Twenty-Eight Holy Pureblood Families."

This so-called list of the "Twenty-Eight Holy Pure-Blood Families" does not include the Slytherin family or its descendants, the Gaunt family, the Dumbledore family, the Grindelwald family, the Flamel family, or the Miles family.

Simply put, this is not about defining noble bloodlines based on the idea that "magic equals power" in wizarding civilizations or the strength of pure-blooded magical bloodlines, but rather on the concept of "real power aristocracy" based on "control of social resources in Muggle civilizations."

Regardless, the customer who arrived at this time, Coban Yaxley, was undoubtedly one of the financial tycoons he desperately wanted to befriend.

He could vaguely sense the restlessness emanating from the other person, and a slight smile appeared on his lips. He knew that he would make a gain tonight.

"Where is Mr. Bokin?"

Coban Yaxley approached the counter, looking at Tom, a complete stranger, with some wariness, and asked the shop owner questions.

"He was invited by a beautiful lady to spend a romantic night." Tom's voice was elegant and full of nobility, which easily made these wizards from ancient families feel close to him.

A cryptic laugh emanated from within the scarf covering the lower half of his face.

"This damn guy's started looking for women now," Coban chuckled, actually implying to Tom, "I'm an acquaintance of your boss, don't expect me to rip you off, or I'll go after your boss."

Before Tom could say anything, he peered eagerly towards the small door behind the bar, indicating that he knew the good stuff was kept there. "What good stuff?"

Tom simply smiled at him. "Can you tell me what you need?"

"Luck, I need luck!" The cadet didn't change the subject; his impatience grew increasingly palpable, as if he'd thought of something unpleasant. "Don't give me something like Felix Felicis; I want the real good stuff!"

Tom smiled and gently pulled back the silk covering the eerie statue beside him. "You're lucky. I just came across a valuable item that can grant good fortune; it might solve your immediate problem!"

As he spoke, he gently pushed the statue forward and placed it in front of the student.

The bright lights inside the store made the bronze statue shine, its golden glow creating an eerie and dazzling aura.

"What is this?" Coban examined it closely. "I can sense the dark magic power it contains."

It is a dark force.

Tom thought to himself, "Dark power is dark power, and black magic is black magic. They are not the same thing at all."

"Yes, this is a magical artifact with powerful dark magic!" He continued, his eyes flashing with a dangerous light, "Add lamp oil here, light it, and recite the holder's name. If you need to obtain luck related to a specific person, you also need to add a drop of that person's blood to the lamp oil. Not much, just one drop is enough."

"6

"Really?" The student was visibly excited.

The function that Tom described, especially the latter half, was clearly the function he desperately needed.

But actually————

Adding blood was not part of the original design of this statue. This kind of evil god's sacrificial item, which is similar to a wishing spirit, would distort the entire ritual if blood were added. It's just that Tom had enough talent to discern that doing so would achieve such an effect.

But this comes at a price.

"Using it once or twice is fine, but overuse will undoubtedly anger the evil god." Simply put, it means having your soul devoured by this dark magical artifact.

At that time —

Tom can then step in to rescue the other party, or exchange it for benefits, recruit subordinates, or build connections on an equal footing, depending on his needs and the circumstances at the time.

"It's powerful, please use it with caution."

Tom warned him with a mysterious look on his face.

"Of course, yes, I will use it well!" Coban obviously ignored Tom's rare sincere advice and just looked greedily at this thing that could bring good luck.

"How much does it cost?" He was eager to take this thing back with him.

"6000 Galleons." Tom stared at the other person, and with the help of an alchemical artifact in his pocket, he silently used Legilimency, attempting to enter the other person's head to test their limits. "You know, magical artifacts that bring good luck are not common. The person who owns it can quickly earn back the Galleons spent."

Coban hesitated somewhat, even though he came from the noble Yaxley family, this was still a considerable sum of money for him.

However, Tom keenly sensed that this was not the limit of what the other party could pay.

He gently reached out and pulled the statue back towards himself from the counter, smiling as he said, "I heard the Yaxley family owns a copy of 'The Origins of Transfiguration: The Art of Curses' —"

"Are you crazy?" The professional looked at the other person in disbelief, as if he were looking at a madman.

"All I need is the handwritten copy, plus 4000 Galleons." Tom took out a fist-sized glass bottle from his pocket, filled with a bright red, viscous liquid that looked like blood, placed it in the statue's arms, and then gently pushed it in front of him.

"If you agree, this statue, along with the extra lamp oil I've prepared, will be yours."

After hesitating for a long time, the student finally nodded, gritting his teeth, and said, "Deal!"

"But you need to give me some time!"

"Of course, I can wait." Tom smiled at him. Such valuable family books are usually enchanted with magic to prevent copying or magic to confuse people and make them copy the wrong books. Copying them by hand is obviously a time-consuming task.

After waiting for the student to show a relieved expression, he said coldly, "Two days, I can wait for you for two days. As you know, this magical artifact made of dark magic power is not hard to find buyers; many people are vying for it."

The professional gave him a deep look, simply said "Wait," and then strode outside.

In fact, formal training hasn't gone that far.

He arrived at a secluded alleyway where no one would notice him, took out the time converter from his pocket, and with a slight twist, his figure quickly disappeared into the alley.

"what?"

Three figures suddenly appeared beside where the student had just been standing, and a magic wand was quickly pulled out and inserted into the location where the time converter had been.

Lockhart carefully sensed something. "I smell time!"

The wand in his hand emitted a soft glow.

After a long pause, a slight smile appeared on his lips. "Formal training? What a restless fellow!"

Sirius Black, who was standing nearby, had obviously also seen the figure who had just used the Time-Turner in front of him, and laughed, "Wasn't he supposed to be doing things for you in America as you ordered? How come he's going to travel back in time and secretly find a young Voldemort?"

Coincidentally, Lockhart caught him doing something wrong.

Perhaps this unlucky guy is really in a bad situation.

Lockhart shrugged. "There has never been any real loyalty in this world. If Voldemort had won, you would have found that Voldemort's enemies were the Death Eaters who used to follow him madly."

If the followers were like this, one can only imagine what happened to the Coban, who was forced to follow Lockhart to save his own life under the circumstances.

The relationship between Cobban and Lockhart can be roughly compared to that between Fudge and Dumbledore.

To some extent, it can even be compared to the relationship between Snape and Dumbledore.

They obey orders within the framework, but their own will is always in opposition.

Lockhart didn't have high requirements for the students; he only needed them to use the power of their ancient pure-blood families to help him with his tasks. This was a kind of power that Lockhart currently lacked—the kind of power that could be invoked directly by issuing commands.

Apprentice Cedric's "White Elixir" project needs someone with formal training to pave the way, especially in the complex, somewhat chaotic, yet untapped, small American wizarding world, where attempts at new-age change are met with unexpected resistance.

"I'll be here waiting for you to come back!"

Lockhart smiled slightly at the spot where Coban had just disappeared. A huge werewolf shadow flickered on the wall, lurking silently in the darkness.

"Let's go!" Snape, standing to the side, didn't care about Cobb, this opportunistic politician. Cobb was a Death Eater who rarely interacted with combat-oriented people like him, and they didn't have much of a relationship.

He was more concerned about Harry and the others who had gotten separated from them during this time-traveling adventure.

They quickly found the people who had gotten separated from them.

But not Harry, Draco, and Ron.

Instead—

"They—" Sirius looked up at the second floor of a tavern called "Intoxicated Night" in Knockturn Alley with a strange expression. "That's my niece—"

Even Snape was starting to lose his composure.

As a Potions professor at Hogwarts for many years and the head of Slytherin House, Snape had practically watched Tonks grow up, from his first year as an 11-year-old kid. The impression left in his mind always made him subconsciously think that Tonks, who had only graduated a few years earlier, was still a child.

But this is related to Lupin—

Ok.

He shook his head, not wanting to think about that kind of problem.

"Let's go find Harry and the others." Lockhart smiled and shook his head, only sighing that Lupin, who had chosen to accept his fate, had indeed accepted its gifts, and decided not to disturb them. "Obviously, they have their own adventure stories too."

Sirius's expression was somewhat exaggerated and bewildered. "An adventure story? Wow, that's so intense and exciting!"

A colossal serpent meandered through the void of time.

The three of them disappeared again.