Hogwarts Advanced Guide

Chapter 466 Nicole Flamel's Advice

"But who the hell is Slytherin? Do you really believe him?" Harry asked back. "He said that Hera is his double, do you believe it?"

"I've never heard of such magic before, but he has lived for thousands of years after all. Isn't it normal to know some magic that we don't know?" Mrs. Weasley whispered.

Harry straightened his chest, "If you are willing to believe him, ma'am, then I'm afraid we can't continue discussing this topic." Harry looked a little lonely, as if he was sad why Mrs. Weasley refused to believe him.

But all this is absolutely unacceptable to Mrs. Weasley. The Order of the Phoenix has lost Dumbledore and Hera. Although Mrs. Weasley is a very strong woman, she cannot bear such a blow.

"Ma'am, let's go downstairs to dinner," said Harry.

"No problem—of course no problem." Mrs. Weasley wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, "Go downstairs, they should be waiting impatiently."

Since then, Mrs. Weasley hadn't asked Harry anything else, except that she was always looking for work for Ron and Hermione, trying to keep the three of them separate, giving them little time to think together, and the most lenient explanation for this behavior was that Mrs. Weasley was trying to distract them from thinking about the crazy trip - the crazy trip out of the Burrow, out of Hogwarts.

After two days of endlessly scrubbing the cutlery, Harry suddenly felt the urgency to leave the Burrow, but as Ron said, he still had traces of him, and once he left the Burrow, he couldn't even use spells - someone would find out!

wrong!

Harry suddenly realized the problem. There was indeed Zongsi on him, but the Ministry of Magic monitoring Zongsi was in the hands of Slytherin. Does that mean he could leave the Burrow?
Thinking of this, Harry threw away the rag in his hand.

"Go to XX's rag!"

"I think it's time to start a new journey. I should complete the task Hera gave me instead of cleaning the dishes here." Harry said to himself while wiping the dishes.

Ginny's face turned pale, "So, what you said is true?" She moved closer to Harry and asked in a low voice, "Is this what you plan to do?"

"I'm - not - I'm joking," said Harry evasively.He didn't expect Ginny to suddenly enter the kitchen, and he was completely intoxicated by his victory in destroying one Horcrux after another after leaving the Burrow.He didn't notice anyone approaching him at all.

They looked at each other, and there was something more in Ginny's expression than surprise.

And hundreds of miles away in the underground of London, Hera was sitting in the minister's office. He was sitting on the sofa, and Richfa was sitting behind the desk.

"I need a legitimate identity at Hogwarts."

"How about a Ministry of Magic Special Operations Investigator at Hogwarts?" Richfar scribbled on the paper. "I think the position is good."

"Sounds like Umbridge's toad." Hera curled her lips, closed the magic book and stuffed it into her pocket. "How about the Hogwarts Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"

"But the curse above?" Richfar mentioned fearfully. Now, the cursed thing about the Defense Against the Dark Arts course is almost known again, with Voldemort's comeback. "Of course I am not doubting your lord's ability, but I am afraid that this year's Hogwarts will definitely be occupied by Voldemort."

"That's why Hogwarts needs me." Hera said with a smile, "Minerva will need me, even if I don't appear in a face she is familiar with. Flitwick will miss me too. Although I don't want to mention it, my relationship with Argus is also very good. He helped me take care of Tom for a long time."

"If this is what your lord means, then I will discuss it with Hogwarts." Richfar whispered.

Hera nodded and murmured, "I think they'll like my lessons. I'm going to teach them some dark arts. After all, I'm a Slytherin."

"But this is not Lord Durmstrang." Richfar hesitated and said slowly.

Hera shook her head lightly, "Special times, special means. Richfa, nothing is eternal, except the power to protect oneself."

"You are right." Richfa quite agrees with this sentence, only with strength can he better protect himself. "By the way, my lord, I think you need to read this report."

"Oh?" Hera took the file bag from Richfa's hand, twisted it lightly, it was very thin, it seemed to be only the thickness of a piece of paper. "What's this?"

"Mr. Nick Flamel's life magic pattern test report." Richfar sighed, "If the report is correct, Mr. Flamel passed away last night."

"Why didn't you tell me right away?" Hera raised her eyebrows, "You should know how important this is to me, right?"

"Sorry, my lord," Richfa came out from behind the desk, and he knelt on the ground on one knee, "It is precisely because this news is so important that I have to ask my subordinates to confirm it again and again to avoid any accidents."

Hera snorted coldly, and poured out the document from the file bag. It was a simple and scary text at the beginning.

"At 7:28 p.m. on July 9, Nick Flamel's tribute to life at the Ministry of Magic lost its radiance. It has been ruled out that the magic power has been exhausted, and it is confirmed that Mr. Nick Flamel has died."

"It seems that I'm going to go out again." Hera took a deep breath, and slowly inserted the letter back into the file bag.

Richfar frowned, "What about your suicide note?"

"Just leave it to Scrimgeour, he can handle it well." Hera said softly.

Returning to the Tulip Manor again, Hera felt a sense of desolation here. The tulips that bloomed all over the yard in the past withered, even though it was the best season at the end of July, they all withered.

The Loyalty Curse was also lifted because of Nick Flamel's death, and only some spells like the Muggle Repelling Curse were still in effect, but it hardly took Herardo to think about it. It is estimated that within a few days, the wizards who swarmed here would snatch it up.

"Manlan, come out." Hera said softly, moving her lips up and down.

With a puff, the house elf appeared in front of Hera, "Mister. Master. Master." He slammed his head hard to the ground, as if he felt that it was a great shame that he did not follow his master to die, as if he was hiding his life and fearing death.

"That's enough, Manglan." Hera stopped him, "It's not your fault, you're still alive."

"But the master is gone, what's the point of my life!?" Manglan burst into tears, "My ancestors have served the master for generations, but he is in my generation. Woohoo. I should die."

"Okay, Manglan." Hera interrupted Manlan with a snarl, "Did Mr. LeMay leave any suicide note, or explain what you need to do?"

"Master, he asked me to use magic to hide the entire manor, but I can't do it," Manglan said sobbing, "I can only keep Muggles from entering, but I can't stop wizards."

"I think we need a loyalty spell at this time." Hera's expression was serious. He didn't allow other people to break into Nick Flamel's manor at will, even if he was gone. "By the way, where is your master buried? I want to go and see."

"The master is buried in the backyard, together with the mistress."

"Take me there."

"Yes."

Standing in front of a small soil bag, Hera looked at the new soil in front of her. There were handprints left on it, and there were all kinds of smells all of a sudden. Even a powerful wizard like Nick Flamel who had been around for centuries could not escape death. Does this prove that the life of a wizard is actually very meaningless?
Even Nick Flamel only had a house-elf cry for him in the end.

Hera stood in front of Nick's grave for a long time, until Manlan asked, "Sir, do you plan to eat something?"

Only then did Hera come to his senses, it turned out that it was already lunch time, Mang Lan reminded him habitually.

"By the way, I found the master's suicide note." Sobbing, Manlan took out a roll of parchment from his pocket, and sealed it with wax. "The master said that only you can see this, and he knows you will definitely come."

"Heh, his prophecy talent is working at this time." Hera smiled self-deprecatingly, and took the parchment casually, "It seems that you predicted your own death."

"Manlan, take me back to my room."

"Yes, sir."

Back in the villa, sitting on the sofa in the living room, Manlan went to prepare lunch, and Hera took advantage of this gap to quickly tear off the wax and roll up the parchment.

Here's what it says on the paper:
"Hera Lestrange herself:

When you read this letter, I have been dead for about a week. I have changed the Ministry of Magic's praise of life and my magical connection. Even if I die for a while, the praise of life will not change immediately. Well, enough nonsense.What I say next will be crucial, should I call you Hera now, or Mister Salazar Slytherin?Sorry, there are not many opportunities to tease you, I can only be here."

I have to say that Hera managed to be amused, but I have to admit that the talent of prophecy really shines in Nick Flamel. If he hadn't modified the Praise of Life, the person who took over Nick Flamel would probably be Scrimgeour. Hera couldn't imagine what would happen then?
I am afraid that most of Nick Flamel's legacy will fall into the hands of Voldemort.

But in the following content, Hera's expression became more and more serious. Gradually, his whole mind was immersed in it. Mang Lan called him several times before he came back to his senses.

"Sir, sir?"

"Oh, it's nothing." Hera came back to his senses all of a sudden, and he raised the parchment in his hand, "Nick Flamel gave you to me."

"Really?" Mang Lan stared at Hera with wide eyes, hoping.

Hera fooled Manglan seriously, "Of course it's true, you still don't know about my relationship with Nick?" According to Nick's suicide note, Manglan should die with him, and all the property in his manor should be donated to Beauxbatons.

But is Hera such an honest person?

And seeing Manlan like this, he completely believed Hera's words.

"Manlan, you will be by my side from now on, just like Cowper." Hera rolled up the parchment and put it in her pocket, and patted her pocket worriedly.

"Since this is what the old master meant," Mang Lan said excitedly, "then, as you wish, master."

"Very good, let's go eat." Hera waved her hand, got up and walked towards the restaurant.

When Hera returned to the Ministry of Magic, he was already followed by two house-elves, which made him extra confident-once he met Voldemort, at least they could block two death curses, couldn't they?

As for the matter of Hera's legacy, it was officially on the right track. Richfar dispatched a group of people to Hogwarts to check Hera's legacy. Of course, most of the things left in it were worthless things.More were left by Dumbledore, bequeathed to Harry by and - including the little pockets that were quite indicative of Hera.

This made Hera have to re-select a pocket with a larger capacity from Rozier's family treasure house.

During this period of time, Hera almost maintained the habit of drinking a sip of the compound soup every hour, and he was about to suffer from PTSD with the compound soup, the taste was really bad.

In the Burrow, Harry's escape plan is also proceeding in an orderly manner.

"Fall to the ground." Ron whispered, pointing his wand at the low ceiling.A trapdoor flew open just above their heads, a ladder slid under their feet, and a horrible, half-sucking, half-moaning sound came from the square opening, accompanied by a foul smell that seemed to emanate from the gutter.

In order to avoid Mrs. Weasley, they had to escape to the attic, even if there was a ghoul here.

"That's your ghoul, isn't it?" asked Harry, who had actually never met the guy who sometimes bothered people in the dead of night.

"Yeah, that's right," said Ron, climbing up the ladder, "come and see."

Harry followed Ron up a few steps and leaned into the tiny attic.Head and shoulders into the attic, he saw the fellow curled up a few paces away from him, mouth open, fast asleep in the shadows.

"But... but what it looks like... do ghouls usually wear pajamas?"

"No," said Ron, "they don't usually have red hair and so many pustules."

Harry stared at the guy, feeling a little sick.It was the shape and size of a human being, and now that Harry's eyes had adjusted to the dim light, it was clearly wearing an old set of Ron's pajamas.Also, Harry believed that ghouls were generally slimy and hairless, not thick-haired and covered in purple-red blisters.

(End of this chapter)