Shortly after Owen and the professors entered Ms. Hufflepuff's final resting place.

The snow outside the castle - it has become smaller.

This strange weather is not certain, it is to bully the wizards that they do not have weather satellites, otherwise they will definitely see that there is a cold vortex over Hogwarts that has lasted for months.

It is it that directs the warm and humid air from the Atlantic Ocean to this area.

The water vapor is blocked by the mountains around Hogwarts, resulting in snowfall.

Every winter, there are several heavy snowfalls in the Scottish Highlands, but this year due to the cold vortex, the heavy snow lasted for a long time.

When it snows, there is much less entertainment for the little wizards, and winter activities such as ice skating on the Black Lagoon are only played when the snow stops. When it's snowing, no one wants to go out.

However, there is one event that is very popular on a snowy day.

That's bathing.

Soaking in the hot water, surrounded by colorful bubbles, watching the snow through the window is definitely a joy in life.

However, for most young wizards, it is not easy to soak comfortably, although each academy has its own bathroom, but there is only a separate shower, and there is absolutely no bathtub or anything like that, of course - if you have high mana, you can also transform the bath yourself. This is also one of the driving forces behind the learning of Transfiguration by young wizards.

Magic!

If you'd like, you might even be able to study how you can keep the water flowing from a spring like water at a perfect temperature of 40 degrees Celsius.

Or just summon a bubble bath.

If you can't do that, you can ask the elves to boil water for you, and they'll be happy to do it.

In short, magic is by no means two opposing waves gnawing at each other.

Enjoyment is the theme of modern magic.

And when it comes to enjoyment, compared to the little wizards, the prefects' baths are much more luxurious.

The Rectangular Bathroom, located on the sixth floor, is immediately attracted by the luxurious chandelier lit on the ceiling with candles.

Stepping on the white marble floor tiles, all the equipment in the area is made of marble, and there is a rectangle in the center, like a swimming pool, a bath deep in the ground.

Hundreds of golden faucets studded with gemstones are lined around the edge of the bath, which open to reveal a variety of bath gels mixed with hot water.

Huge floor-to-ceiling windows open onto the bath, offering stunning views of beautiful Hogwarts.

Snow-white linen curtains hung from the windows, and a large pile of fluffy white towels was placed in a corner.

In the center of the two floor-to-ceiling windows hangs a picture of a blonde mermaid in a gilded frame.

This is a lavatory for the prefects of the houses, as well as the presidents of the male and female student councils and the captains of the Quidditch team. This year, because of the tournament, the warriors of each school can also enter.

Of course – that doesn't mean other little wizards can't go in. As long as there's no one inside. In fact, anyone can go in and take a shower comfortably.

The entrance is on the sixth floor, and the fourth door to the left of the statue of Fool Boris will be gray if there is no one inside, and orange if there are people inside.

As for the password, it is set by the president of the student council - that is, Owen.

Usually Owen will give Cedric the password, and he will inform the other prefects. The prefect then informs the Quidditch captains.

But Owen himself doesn't come here to take a bath - it's too far, damn it, wouldn't it be nice to run from the second basement floor, wearing a bathrobe, to take a shower on the sixth floor, and then run back to Transfiguration?

In his own college, he can still find someone to rub his back, make a salt rub, pull out a fire cup, or something, what does it mean to have a bathhouse alone?

The Slytherin prefects don't go very often, Slytherin has his own luxury bath, and he's worse than Owen, with three basement floors

As for Ravenclaw

The Ravenclaw prefect, who lives in another tower, said it wasn't for classes and a library

, he won't even come to the main building, take a shower - take a fart!

So now you know who's using it.

Damn Gryffindor, it's the right time!

Miss Granger often came here secretly - no one dared to say three or four.

It's not that she's taking a bath, it's healing, in her words.

Excessive use of refreshments and staying up late for a long time can cause excessive tension in the nerves, so bathing is a good choice.

And cheap enough.

She comes about once a week.

It wasn't until one time he was bumped into by Owen who was wandering around, that he warmly invited Hermione to come and take a bath with her, and she never went in again.

————

At this time, the orange door was covered with water vapor carvings, and it was thought that someone was using this bathroom.

In the spacious pool, young girls are lying quietly in the gentle water.

The bathtub was full of bubbles, and the white foam on the water surface was like a cloud falling into the mortal world, and the foam did not cover all of the water, and between the gaps, the girl's skin could be faintly seen soaking in the hot water and becoming smooth and red, like a freshly ripe peach.

She spread her hair and spread her arms, letting the silver moonlight shine on the water.

Maybe it was an illusion, maybe the light of the crystal lamp was too bright, and her silver hair looked brighter than before.

The undercurrent under the pool surges, brushing the body of the ravine, and the crystal clear luster with an alluring aroma makes people want to rush into their arms to play.

"You should confess all this to me."

In the quiet bath, where only the sound of running water sounded, a stern and helpless voice was heard.

"It's clear that you're going to board the ship, it's obvious that you want to come to this country, and it's obvious that you've been preparing since last year."

An old, graceful witch sat sideways by the bath and whispered, "I don't understand, I don't understand a lot of things, but I'm your headmaster."

Professor Juralie Hicks sighed, her eyes full of confusion, "You know, how the old guys at school don't want you to leave Ilvermorny."

"That's why I'm leaving. Professor." The girl poked her head out of the water, her long silver hair clinging to her skin, obscuring important places, as if she were wearing a silk coat, she leaned against the wall, the warm water heated the wall to a comfortable temperature, she did not feel cold.

"Koyatl."

"Don't call me that." The girl suddenly clenched her fists and slammed into the water, her bright red eyes looking at the professor, "I hate it."

The water splashed like a zigzag prism that obscured her vision, and her face blurred.

Then, she turned her head, raised her head slightly, and looked at the crystal lamp on the ceiling, the bright light scorched her eyes, and in the bright light curtain, she saw some afterimages, the afterimages were a great figure with the upper body of a beautiful woman, the lower body was a snake tail, and there were wings on the back.

"Stewart." Professor Yulari's crossed hands suddenly stretched out, and the gentle magic swelled the girl's silver hair, and soon the hair on the top of her head was dry.

Then she reached out and grabbed Stewart's arm and lifted her out of the water.

The moment she came out of the water, the wide red robe on the professor's body floated automatically and landed on her.

In the mottled light and shadow, the back of the girl the professor saw had a crimson, very light, tattoo like a blood vessel.

She didn't say much, but pulled the girl into her arms.

The professor's temperature made Stewart feel a little hot, it was even higher than the temperature in the water.

"I want to see you while it's still too late, kid."

"If you have a wound, please don't cover it up, suffer in silence, silence is unfortunate, it does not do the slightest benefit to the healing of the wound."

"At least it won't hurt." Stuart leaned into the professor's arms, and she had never been so close to one as she was today

Person.

The last time she was so close to someone was fifteen years ago, when she was three years old and picked up by a woman with the same silver hair as her.

The young woman thought it was her mother, while the woman laughed, stroked her bulging belly, and said that she must give birth to a daughter as beautiful as she was.

"Who cares?" She muttered to herself.

"Everybody only resents." The girl's eyes were closed, her eyelashes trembling slightly, as if she was about to fall asleep, "That's enough."

"It's going to be soon."

"One person. . . Death!"

"Finally—quiet."

The girl lost her voice and just fell asleep.

The bath suddenly fell silent, and the only sound in my ears was the sound of the water.

The pool of water vapor is filled with water, the faint red water is beginning to drain out automatically, the bath is emptying, it is preparing for the next little wizard, and it is all done automatically.

Professor Yulari looked at the rapidly declining water level in the bath, the pale red water that made her frown slightly.

Wait for the last pool to run dry.

The bottom of the pool was shiny, foam-stained corners, and there seemed to be a dagger.

"Whew—" The professor sighed again, and she reached out to straighten the girl's robe so it covered her legs.

Then he brushed the hair from her forehead, and his eyes were full of pity, as if he were looking at his granddaughter, and murmured in pain, "I can't save you, child."

"Everyone is responsible for their actions."

"Even if it's you."

She spoke, her eyes welling with remorse, if she didn't ask for retirement from Ilvermorny, if she continued to be a Charms professor.

When this child enters school, if she can contact it for the first time, things may be different after that, and she will not go further and further down the wrong path.

"Hey—"

In the bathroom, the professor let the girl lean against her.

They were waiting, waiting for Dumbledore to return.

Waiting for the final judgment.

In the middle of nowhere, a translucent ghost cautiously poked its head out of the wall.

She wore Harry's round glasses and two ponytails.

Most of the time, behind her crying expression, she has a quirky face.

Only this time, there was no fun in her eyes, but a little more fear.

Just poked his head out, glanced at it, and immediately shrank into the wall, as if it had never appeared.

——————————————

The other side.

Secret room in the kitchen.

The resting place of the Hufflepuff lady.

The bleak wind blows in the hearts of everyone.

The solemn atmosphere lasted for a long time, and after about five minutes, when everyone was ready to leave.

When I turned around.

The apple tree, which had suddenly calmed down, pulled out its branches again.

<divcss=&ot;ntentadv&ot;> Owen frowned, looked up, and saw that the leafy branches were suddenly intertwined with each other, like vines wrapped in something slowly sent down.

Little by little, the branches were like countless hands, lightly placing things on the ground.

"What is this?"

"Reward?"

"Hufflepuff Trials?" Hermione, who was also in the trials of Gryffindor, thought of it as a matter of course.

"Something like that—" Ron looked at the mass that the branches were gradually peeling away.

Suddenly, I felt as if my heart had been tugged at.

There's something about to come out of his body.

Ron suddenly felt a tearing sensation from

Chest—no, it was from the depths of his soul, and he couldn't open his eyes in pain.

After the layers of branches were removed.

When he saw what was hidden under the trunk of the tree, his pupils suddenly constricted, his face was glazed, and his whole body was distracted.

A girl?

And looks like Ginny.

Looks like it's about twenty years old.

Her body seemed to be alive, and the dappled shade of the trees sprinkled on her face, as if she was sleeping peacefully.

It's a bird that flies in a dream.

With long fiery red hair and a crown of thorns, the crown has bloomed with crimson flowers for I don't know how many years.

The cheeks take on a warm hue under the halo, like the most delicate porcelain, so serene, so serene.

If it weren't for her right arm and left leg, she wouldn't know where she would have gone. Maybe the tranquility will really hold.

In addition, what is even more terrifying is that the two arrow feathers inserted in her body, one of which runs from her back to her abdomen. The other went through her heart.

There was also a severed dagger stuck in her lower abdomen, and although the handle was missing, the blade remained in her body forever.

On her robe, it was red, blood, more like a fallen rose.

Glamorous.

"Oh my God—"

"It's—"

Everyone present was shocked.

In the face of such a tragic scene, they did not feel a trace of fear from it, but more of an aesthetic.

A kind of beauty of death.

Who is she?

This question popped up in everyone's heads.

It wasn't difficult to figure it out, in fact, from the fact that Owen had seen a wand drop from the woman's ankle, he had almost guessed the identity of the other party.

Because, that's a crystalline wand.

And there is only one kind of person who can use this kind of wand.

Successors.

"Shanie Maeve Weasley." Owen muttered to himself.

Among the heirs of the past generations, only this one is the closest to the woman in front of him in front of him in terms of age and identity.

"She—she's Ron's ancestor." Hermione looked at the beautiful woman in front of her in surprise, who looked like a painting.

"I think that's it."

"But how could she be here, and—she" Hermione was speechless, unable to believe what the woman in front of her had experienced in the last moments of her life.

What kind of battle could have hurt her so badly.

Even the body is crippled like this.

Hermione also saw the wand covered in crystals, and immediately turned to look at Owen.

Of course she knew the identity of the other party, if this was one of the heirs of ancient magic, then

Her worried gaze burst out of her eyes, and a strong fear sprouted in her heart.

"Looks like we're about to unravel a hidden piece of history." Dumbledore stepped forward.

Waving the wand, light blue and even colorless ripples swept slightly, and there was no reaction on the girl's body.

Then, he glanced at Victor.

After glancing at the old principal, Victor sighed softly. Then he limped forward with his magic cane.

He lowered his head and looked indifferently at the girl in front of him.

A wisp of wind blew through the broken hair on his forehead, as if even the wind felt sad, and the sound of leaves rustling sounded in his ears. It's like crying, it's more like wailing.

Ancient Magic –

An inaudible hint flashed in Viktor's light brown eyes - panic?

He has always been determined to use this energy to improve people's livelihood, help the weak and the poor, and seek development for low-level wizards.

But during his time at Hogwarts, all he saw was war.

A war that lasts for a thousand years, about ancient magic, about the gods, and now even the goblins

To tell the truth, when he saw the poor, former heir in front of him, a strong sadness and confusion welled up in his heart, the wizard was already in a mess, and now there were still people in the outside world eyeing him.

What role did ancient magic play in this?

Does it make the world a better place?

Or worse?

What the hell is he an alchemist?

Or the executioner who made weapons?

Or both?

What a ———— world! It shouldn't have been this way!!

The cacophony of thoughts did not stop Victor's work.

Like a modified creature in an alchemy classroom, he mechanically took out a primordial crystal from his arms, and the crystal was forcibly pinched together like some kind of fragment.

Then, with great difficulty, he pulled his wand out of his crutches.

Dumbledore stood beside him, and the old headmaster raised his hand to help him, but when he saw the resolute eyes of the young man in front of him, his hand stopped in mid-air.

He watched as Victor drew countless ancient runi characters in the air, and the words turned into butterfly wings, which floated with the crystal and came to the woman.

"Hum!"

The chaotic sound, like the whispering of many people, gradually crystallized into some kind of blue magic, like a river flowing into the sea, and the tide slowly seeped into the woman's body.

In an instant, the blue light lit up a brilliant firework.

It broke through the dome and could be seen from the castle.

And the woman, after the ancient magic re-integrated into her body, the first thing that changed was her fiery red hair.

In an instant, it was silver.

The blood on the robe seemed to come to life, and the roses bloomed more beautifully.

Her pale skin had become rosy again, and she looked as if she was about to come back to life.

"Ancient magic has exaggerated the physiology of organic matter. Even if it's a dead man—" he said flatly, then drew his wand, pointed the tip of the wand at the girl's brain, and with a slight turn, extracted the last memories of the body.

Dumbledore waited as he pulled out a vial, which Victor placed in the bottle.

"It's just fragments, maybe not what you want, and a person's most important memory is not necessarily her memory before she died."

"It's okay to be a clip. I think she'll forgive us for bothering us again." Dumbledore put the vial away and looked at Victor with a complicated expression, "You should be proud of what you've done."

"Not enough." Victor put his wand back on his crutches, "Not enough."

He limped out of here on crutches.

"Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore's blue eyes were full of sorrow, but on the other hand, he felt fortunate that in this stormy and adrift era, although the enemy is getting stronger and stronger, there is still a new generation of young people, who are completely different from himself and Gellert.

Owen, Harry, Hermione.

and Victor in front of him.

They are a new generation of people who are truly determined to change the wizarding world—and they shine brightly.

And he himself - it seems that he is already old.

"Professor?" Ron kept his eyes on the woman who was still shining. In a trance, he remembered what his grandfather had said that he should be proud to be a descendant of Shanee Weasley.

He didn't know if he should be proud now. But the heartache is the most real.

What kind of suffering did she suffer?

"You should write to your parents, this is your ancestor, your loved one after all, I'm sorry I can't let you take her body, because there are too many mysteries." The old headmaster said, "Since she chose this place at the end of her life, let her sleep here."

"The Weasleys could have a memorial service."

Dumbledore reminded him.

"Don't let her leave alone." He patted Ron on the shoulder

Upper arm.

Hearing this, Ron nodded solemnly, "I know, Professor, I know."

"Alright, now let's get out of here, this place is going to be sealed for the time being, until we figure everything out."

Dumbledore said calmly, "As for the memorial service, if you're ready, come and find me in the office."

"Okay professor."

It was as if everything was over.

Then came Snape's job.

The young wizards were taken back to the castle by the Professor.

Then they found a suitcase on a shelf in the kitchen, and there were more than a hundred elves in it.

It's not all in the castle, it's the part of the elves that are responsible for cooking.

The moment the suitcase was opened.

A special elf wearing a big red robe and children's sneakers was the first to rush out.

It's Dobby.

He cried and threw himself into Owen's arms, tears and snot streaming down his face.

He kept complaining to Owen about the abominable behavior of the elves, who had snatched their mirrors and placed strange spells on the chests that prevented them from apparitioning.

Anyway, after Owen was reassured and promised to give him a new two-way mirror, Dobby stopped his tears and smiled hard.

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