svetikya Chapter 213 The Crown: Granger Returns
Chapter 213 The Crown: Granger Returns
Chapter 213 The Crown: Granger Returns
Upon hearing Rowena's words, Harry was utterly astonished and his soul seemed to tremble. He hurriedly bowed and asked, "How come there is a stone statue of me standing in Hogwarts later? What is the reason for this?"
They call you a pioneer.
Rowena glanced at Filch in the dance floor; the Squib was embracing Mrs. Loris, while Ron and Crookshan were talking incessantly.
She frowned slightly and whispered, "It seems to be because you overthrew Voldemort's rule."
Upon hearing this, Harry clapped his hands and laughed heartily, as if he had drunk ice-cold wine on a sweltering summer day: "Brilliant! It truly proves that justice prevails over good! That scoundrel Voldemort has repeatedly come to Hogwarts to cause trouble, but little did he know that his life had already been written off the Book of Death!"
Seeing that Harry was eager to know what Hogwarts would be like in the future, Rowena went on to describe the future in detail.
She spoke with dazzling eloquence: "Eternal-burning glass lamps, glowing every night; magic wands no longer made of wood, but instead of graphene; moreover, witchcraft and hemp are no longer distinguishable, and even mortals can wield magic through prosthetics—"
She rambled on and on, and Harry listened with rapt attention, nodding his head vigorously, clicking his tongue in admiration. "Excellent! With witches and sorcerers united, countless grievances will be resolved. The sage's ideal of universal harmony truly applies here."
Rowena, however, was distracted, her phoenix eyes darting freely around the hall. Suddenly, she noticed Hagrid and Maxim talking in a corner of the dance floor, their brows furrowing even deeper.
"Of course, wizards and Muggles have indeed merged into one, but the conflict has not disappeared; it has simply shifted to humans and clones."
"Oh, clones are new life forms created by replicating human body tissues."
Upon hearing this, Harry's heart skipped a beat, as if a stone lion had been chained to his stomach, and he had no mind to inquire about the future.
She immediately exclaimed, "Sister, don't you know the magic of bringing a person back to life with just a strand of hair?"
Rowena shook her head vigorously. "If I had learned this magic on my own, Godric and Salazar would have knelt down and begged me to take them on as apprentices long ago."
As soon as he finished speaking, the drawing paper in Harry's arms suddenly rustled. Salazar peeked out from his collar, revealing a stick figure drawn with ink lines, its eyebrows raised and eyes glaring.
"Stop bragging, Rowena. Do you think I'd kneel down and beg you to be my mentor?"
When Rowena saw Salazar, she showed no surprise or doubt, only raised an eyebrow and let out a whistle.
"Long time no see, my bald friend."
After saying that, she pointed her slender finger at Hagrid and asked, "Is that half-giant with the same hairstyle as you your disciple?"
"Does he know that you started the 'Movement to Drive Out the Giants'?"
The stick figure on the corner of the paper immediately crossed its arms and sneered, "You think I'd let a bastard born of a giant become my disciple?"
If we only consider the past events involving giants, Harry would simply pretend he didn't see them. But now, hearing the word "bastard" applied to Hagrid, anger surged from his heart and malice welled up from his very bones.
He swung his fist and slammed it hard on the table, making the cups and plates clang loudly. The three or five students around him were startled by this blow.
"If you were to judge this giant solely by his size, even if you were to utter a magnificent poem of insults, I would simply ignore it like the wind."
Now they've insulted my brother Hagrid! This is intolerable!
Rowena immediately turned her gun on the paper, pointing her slender finger at it, and said with disgust, "Exactly, racists are disgusting."
Salazar was attacked from both sides, but the stick figure drawn with ink lines remained calm and composed, and three exclamation marks suddenly appeared next to his head.
"You kept it well hidden—you never told anyone about going to the future, even until you died."
"And the man you're waiting for to die isn't Harry, is he?"
Rowena didn't answer him, but instead crossed her arms over her chest, smiled, and looked at the drawing paper, saying, "How dare you say that to me, Slytherin?"
"I've never heard you mention having an Eastern wizard friend."
The man with the ink-lined mouth twisted slightly. "That's because I hadn't met him yet in 1983."
The two old friends met and started chatting idly. But Harry was burning with anxiety and had no time to listen to their nonsense.
She immediately shoved the drawing paper back into her clothes, clasped her hands in a fist and asked, "Sister, you previously said that souls from ancient times and the present can share memories, but I wonder if you ever created that crown in ancient times?"
"A crown? Ah—is it the legendary relic I left behind?"
Rowena stroked his chin and read aloud, then shook his head and said, "Looks like I'm going to disappoint you. Until now, I haven't even considered making it."
Upon hearing this, Harry felt as if a thousand-pound stone had pressed down on his heart, and he cursed inwardly: Damn it! This has ruined everything!
Since my sister has never even considered crafting the crown, even if that scoundrel Voldemort were to look back on the past, he would never be able to get a solution from her.
Furthermore, she was completely ignorant of magic that could transform people, like a tree without roots or water without a source. Even if Voldemort had truly grasped the secrets of the crown, he certainly wouldn't have been able to learn such supernatural powers.
If we consider the most perilous possibility, there is only one: Voldemort has fled to the future.
Just as his mind was in turmoil, Rowena saw that his face was ashen and assumed that he was still thinking about the crown.
She then lightly raised her jade wrist and flicked her fingers, making a feint towards Helena, who was dancing with the nearly headless Nick.
But the wandering soul seemed to be drawn to the scene by invisible threads, unable to control its own destiny.
Helena was about to cry out in surprise, but when she looked up and saw that it was her own mother performing the ritual, she had no choice but to swallow her words back down.
When they floated to Rowena's side, the mother and daughter looked at each other in silence, their eyes meeting as if they had a thousand words to say.
Finally, Helena couldn't hold back any longer and asked in a trembling voice, "—Mom? Is it really you?"
"Who else could it be but me?"
Rowena looked away from the several bloody holes in her chest and sighed, "You're much more lively now than you were when you were a child, it's just that you died a little too young."
After a pause, he added with a hint of disappointment, "It was still a crime of passion."
The words were still ringing in her ears when Helena's tears, which had just welled up in the corners of her eyes, receded. All her sorrow turned into guilt, leaving only a burning, embarrassed feeling on her cheeks.
She was about to try and come up with a witty remark when Rowena suddenly turned serious. "Who killed you?"
Helena swallowed the words that were about to come out of her mouth, her face flushing and paling. After hesitating for a long time, she finally stammered, "Can I say it—? Won't that affect the timeline—?"
Rowena calmly replied, "I'm just observing; I won't interfere."
Helena lowered her guard after hearing her mother's words and whispered, "It's Blood Man Barrow—he's Uncle Salazar's student."
Upon hearing this, Rowena clicked her tongue, then abruptly changed the subject, "Do you know where the crown I once crafted is?"
Hearing her mother's question, Helena's face grew even paler, and she shook her head vigorously.
"I can't say! The crowns you create are too dangerous; I've been deceived before—"
Rowena's phoenix eyes widened, and her voice suddenly rose, "You can't even tell your mother?"
"Don't forget who raised you with their love and care!"
Before he could finish speaking, Salazar's little figure with ink lines suddenly peeked out from Harry's collar again, "Stop talking nonsense, it's Godric and I who have been helping you take care of the kids."
Helena was already numb. Upon hearing this voice, she opened her mouth in a daze, but couldn't utter a single word.
So Uncle Salazar didn't die after all.
"Shut up, you bald guy."
With a flick of his finger, Salazar's drawing paper vanished.
"I haven't settled the score with you yet for the murder of my daughter by your student."
Seeing that Rowena was looking at her with those eyes again, Helena gasped, steeled herself, and said, "Fine, I can say, but only if it's just you, Mother."
Rowena waved her hand. "Harry isn't an outsider. Strictly speaking, he's your elder."
"Do you remember when you were possessed by a dark wizard when you were a child? It was Harry, who traveled back in time, who saved you."
Harry immediately clapped his hands in response, "That's right! It was Voldemort who possessed you that day."
Their open and honest conversation was like the sun breaking through the clouds. All the doubts of the past vanished in an instant, and Helena felt her mind become clear.
No wonder the mother came to the modern era—and even became Harry's dance partner—it turns out they were old friends!
Suddenly, Helena reached out and touched her lower abdomen, staring intently at Harry, and said with a complicated expression, "So, the scar on my stomach was caused by you—"
Harry remained unfazed, clasped his hands in a fist and replied, "It's not that I intended to hurt you, but you should know that the situation was critical at the time, and apart from this method, there was really no other way to force Voldemort out of my body."
Helena knew Voldemort was ruthless and didn't press the matter further, only letting out a long sigh. After a moment, she calmed herself and recounted the past events in detail.
Readers, please hear this: It turns out that Voldemort was determined to collect the relics of the four great masters, and upon graduation, he specifically sought out Dumbledore for a teaching position in Defense Against the Dark Arts.
That night, Dumbledore flatly refused, and Voldemort remained silent for a long time before suddenly saying that he wanted to revisit the old place and see the scenery of his alma mater again.
Dumbledore took pity on him and thus agreed.
Unexpectedly, Helena had seen everything clearly from the shadows, but she did not believe Voldemort's words.
They followed him silently, and saw him wandering around the castle, passing through corridors and courtyards as if he were strolling leisurely.
After lingering for about an hour, he still hadn't made a move. Just as Helena was about to give up, she suddenly saw Voldemort's figure flash and disappear at the corner of the spiral staircase.
She hurried after him, but the moonlight filled the steps, and there was no sign of him. He had truly vanished like a gentle breeze, gone like morning dew.
"I don't know where he went, but I'm sure he left the crown at Hogwarts."
Helena's eyes were glazed as she murmured, "So I ambushed him at the school gate. He did come, with a strange sense of ease on his face."
"Then he saw me, was slightly surprised at first, and then showed off to me that the crown had been hidden in a safe place —"
Before he could finish speaking, Harry clapped his hands and laughed, his voice echoing through the air, "It was truly effortless! This fellow hid the crown within the school, just like catching a turtle in a jar."
"Once I mobilize all the little spirits in the village to dig three feet into the ground, how could we not find it!"
"Then we shall see how this damned crown can bewitch people and, by what means, increase wisdom!"
Just then, the slow singing and dancing in the hall suddenly stopped, and a group of musicians led by the strange sisters made a grand entrance. The pipa strings were taut, and the drums were urging, just like a sudden rain hitting new lotus leaves.
In an instant, the Christmas ball was thrown into chaos, with a deafening roar like a broken gong, and hundreds of students howling together, just like the wailing of a hundred ghosts in Fengdu City.
Harry's head was throbbing from the noise, so he clasped his hands in a fist salute to Ravenclaw and her daughter, saying, "These birdmen are making a terrible racket. I'll go find a quiet place outside."
Rowena nodded with a smile. "Go ahead, Harry, I need to talk to Helena."
They parted ways. Harry then pulled Ron, who was clinging to Filch, and the two of them lifted their robes and strode out of the Great Hall.
As soon as Ron turned past the front porch pillar, he asked impatiently, "Harry, how did Lady Rowena get to 1994?"
"How did she become your dance partner?"
Harry looked around and, seeing no one was around, explained in detail how Rowena had come to be there.
After hearing this, Ron sighed for a long time, then asked curiously, "But what was Hermione doing in the underground classroom? She couldn't have just been wandering around there, could she?"
"I was just thinking about this too. If you have some free time, brother, why don't you come with me to find my elder sister?"
Ron nodded in agreement.
The two immediately pushed aside the rose bushes and waded forward, one step at a time.
Unexpectedly, after walking only a few steps, they suddenly heard a series of hurried footsteps approaching from afar, accompanied by a cold, gloomy voice that sounded like it was covered in oil and snake scales.
"I don't understand why you're so nervous, Igor."
Upon hearing this, Harry immediately concealed himself.
Ron was also alert, and quickly crouched down to hide in the shadows of the flowers.
Then Harry whispered, "Damn it! It's Snape and Karkaroff!"
The flower blooms at two ends, each telling its own story.
The two men, who were looking for Hermione, were stopped halfway. Inside the Great Hall, Grindelwald was mixing a dazzling array of drinks and chatting and laughing with Dumbledore.
"I must say, the American wizarding world is like a hodgepodge, as complex as their cocktails, but also quite flavorful."
Grindelwald's withered hands swung around as if performing magic, mixing a cup of shimmering silver sauce and pushing it forward.
"They call this 'the Milky Way,' you'll like it."
Dumbledore seemed not to hear, his eyes fixed on Ravenclaw and her daughter.
He suddenly took off his glasses and said apologetically, "I'm sorry, Gail, I'm afraid I can't have another drink with you."
"Harry has indeed found an amazing dance partner, and as the younger one, I should go and greet that lady."
Grindelwald glanced at Rowena, shrugged, and said, "Alright, Al, I'll save this drink for you."
Three or five breaths after Dumbledore left, a beautiful figure suddenly sat down with a "thump".
The newcomer wore a ripped dress and had cascading ochre hair. He held a magic wand upside down in his hand. His eyes clearly showed despair, yet his every move exuded a menacing aura.
They didn't seem like students attending a dance, but rather like vengeful spirits who hadn't avenged their great grudge.
"Ah, Hermione, my most prized, beloved, and respected student, you've arrived."
Grindelwald smiled and pushed the glass away. "Want to try the drink I specially mixed for you?"
Hermione glanced at it only, and asked with a forced smile, "Is this wine good?"
"
"Oh, my dear, I studied bartending in America."
"I'm asking you if this wine tastes good."
Grindelwald could no longer laugh. He glanced at Dumbledore, took a deep breath, and said, "It doesn't taste good. I'll eat the cup too. Are you satisfied now?"
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