Chapter 123: A Good Teacher And Helpful Friend
Seeing the writing appear on the paper, Melvin seemed to see the young Tom Riddle, whose seemingly casual question hid strong curiosity—after all, he was only the Dark Lord at 16, without deep enough scheming or patience.
Melvin curled the corner of his mouth and wrote in a casual tone:
「He looks like just an ordinary student, with above-average grades, only excelling in magic compared to his peers. I really can’t figure out how such a Potter defeated the Dark Lord back then.」
The diary fell silent for a moment, then the writing quietly changed: 「What are this Voldemort and Death Eaters you mentioned? A group of Dark Wizards?」
As the first Horcrux, the diary contained a soul fragment of Tom Riddle from his sixth year, with memories stopping around that time; those past events in history were the future of this soul.
Melvin’s few words in the diary sketched a corner of the future, faintly revealing the massive waves stirred by Voldemort and the Death Eaters, followed by the heavy blow from Harry Potter.
This revealed information was maddeningly tantalizing, stirring Riddle’s overwhelming curiosity that he couldn’t suppress.
Melvin was very patient with this close friend:
「You’ve been created for too long, perhaps you don’t know yet. In the 70s, that is, 20 years ago, the powerful Dark Wizard Voldemort rose, his forces the Death Eaters grew strong, dragging the entire British Wizarding World into a vortex of reign of terror. They were an extreme organization upholding pure-blood supremacy, killing and eliminating dissenters, angering the entire wizarding world.」
Ink stains fell on the paper, the overflowing ink quickly absorbed and dried, but these words didn’t disappear immediately, as if Riddle deliberately kept them to carefully savor and appreciate the information revealed.
Powerful Dark Wizard Voldemort.
Death Eaters forces grew strong.
Reign of terror, killing dissenters.
What wonderful phrases…
Ink fragrance seeped from the diary, as if Riddle, in excited mood he couldn’t suppress, let out leaking laughter.
The ink stains fluctuated for a moment before slowly calming: 「What about the Ministry of Magic? Didn’t they stop the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord?」
Melvin sighed: 「Voldemort was extremely skilled in Dark Magic, almost the most powerful Dark Wizard in history. Ministry Aurors and Strikers could hardly resist him; even Dumbledore could only protect Hogwarts.」
This time, not letting Riddle linger, Melvin paused briefly and continued writing:
「The story’s turning point happened on a night twelve years ago. Voldemort alone hunted the Potter family. They were extremely special, having escaped three sieges by Voldemort and the Death Eaters. In the final battle, the Potter couple died, but baby Harry survived the catastrophe unharmed, and Voldemort disappeared from then on, never appearing again.」
The diary almost impatiently asked: 「What happened that night?」
「No one knows. All who knew are dead, and the only survivor was less than a year old at the time.」
「Go find out!」
The emotionally out-of-control writing appeared and quickly vanished. The diary soon switched to new wording: 「What I mean is, I’m very curious about what happened that night. If we can uncover the truth, we might gain powerful magic to defeat the Dark Lord. What do you think?」
「Perhaps…」
Melvin showed hesitation. He was just an assistant teacher, just a Hufflepuff, interested in pursuing wealth but not keen on chasing magical power: 「I don’t think that’s a good idea, Tom. It’s easy to get into trouble, and even if it’s powerful magic, I might not be able to learn it.」
The ink was quickly absorbed, but there was no reply for a long time. Riddle was probably somewhat exasperated.
The diary fell briefly silent, then gently persuaded:
「You’re wrong, Melvin. Pursuing power is a wizard’s mission. Only by gaining greater power and stronger magic can one more efficiently achieve goals, like protecting more magical creatures.」
「But… I have no talent in this area. In school, my practical exams were at best Good.」 Melvin felt he was a good actor.
Seeming to notice the interest in his words, the diary became more proactive: 「That’s true for ordinary magic—slow progress, minimal results. To gain power, why not try Dark Magic?」
「But…」 Melvin cooperatively showed hesitation.
「I know what you’re worried about. I started contacting Dark Magic in school, and my Defence Against the Dark Arts was perfect scores. Do you know Durmstrang? Their school has a more open attitude toward Dark Magic. Trust me. Let me teach you some Dark Magic with no side effects. It will be fine.」
「Alright, but if anything feels off, I’ll stop immediately.」
Melvin smiled at the corner of his mouth, in a good mood.
Ever since receiving the unicorn’s gift, he had been studying Dark Magic himself, but had only made minor breakthroughs in Fiendfyre; other Dark Magic he had barely mastered. He couldn’t easily ask other professors or the headmaster about such things.
Now it was good—self-study couldn’t compare to guidance from a master teacher.
「Let’s start with the classification of Dark Magic, divided by harm level into hexes, poison curses, curses…」
At 16, Tom Riddle was already a master of Dark Magic, having scoured advanced Dark Magic, proficient in Unforgivable Curses, recreated Horcruxes and advanced further, deeply inheriting Herpo’s true legacy, piecing together Chamber of Secrets clues from traces, finding Slytherin’s relic…
His explanations of underlying magical principles were clear and accessible, concise and easy to understand, with endless practical tips for exercises.
No wonder he always wanted to return as a professor after graduation; he truly had the potential to be a good teacher.
However, compared to Defence Against the Dark Arts, a pure Dark Magic class would better showcase his talents.
「Compared to the finger removal curse, isn’t the cutting curse more convenient?」
「The cutting curse is just an ordinary spell. Torture and pain are the core of Dark Magic.」
Melvin’s questions got immediate answers, and practice hiccups were resolved on the spot, as if back in student days, immersed in an ocean of knowledge.
「Would focusing on the thumb be more effective?」
「Melvin, I have to say, you have talent」
An outstanding Dark Magic master was diligently learning.
……
Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom.
Harry and his friends sat in the corner, their desk piled with Lockhart’s adventure storybooks. In front of him sat plump Neville, while Harry tried to minimize his presence, praying Professor Lockhart wouldn’t notice him.
Almost a week since term started, two Defence Against the Dark Arts classes: the first half fan Q&A, second half Cornish Pixies wreaking havoc in the classroom; the second a stage play reenactment.
Four hours of life wasted. Aside from Lockhart’s personal preferences, they learned nothing else and had begun to see his true colors.
“Merlin above, I hope Lockhart picks me to play the snowman.” Harry silently prayed.
Beside him, Hermione opened her mouth but had nothing to say.
By now, she knew Defence Against the Dark Arts was a waste of time. The adventurer in the storybooks didn’t match the real Lockhart at all—let alone ferocious werewolves and vampires; that professor couldn’t even handle house-elves.
Last year’s Quirrell had real skills; classes actually taught knowledge. This year’s Lockhart had an empty head, only teaching his favorite color. She flipped through these expensive storybooks, quietly making a decision.
The class bell rang, and Professor Lockhart entered with a brilliant smile:
“Children, today we’ll study vampires—yes, the content from 《Travels with Vampires》. For a more realistic experience, I need someone to play the vampire and cooperate with me.”
“…” Harry tried to bury his head in the desk.
“Harry! Harry!”
His expression gradually turned to despair.
After two hours of torment, at the end of class, Harry was pale-faced, eyes dull, dazed back at his seat—like a vampire staked through the heart with a silver dagger.
Ron slung an arm around his shoulders and whispered: “Come on to the Great Hall for dinner. Colin’s still waiting for you.”
Harry’s body swayed twice, his expression more despairing.
Colin Creevey was Gryffindor’s first-year and his fanatic fan, staking out the Great Hall and common room daily for autographed photos, causing much laughter.
“Don’t tease him.”
Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron: “On to business. I think Defence Against the Dark Arts is a waste of time; we can’t learn anything useful. Let’s get tutoring from Professor Levent instead.”
“Tutoring?”
Harry and Ron blinked.
Hermione nodded: “I got second-year notes from Percy, listing the spells to learn. We’ll get Professor Levent to guide us!”
……
September 4, Friday.
The last afternoon class was fourth-year Muggle Studies, mainly on modern Muggle development from the coal era to the oil era, key differences, future directions, basic introduction to oil products’ uses, laying foundation for fifth-year classes.
The bell rang, announcing the official arrival of the first weekend of the school year.
Waiting for all the little wizards to leave, Melvin then tucked his textbook and leisurely left the classroom. Peak dismissal had passed; corridors were clear, no need to squeeze with them.
With the diary in hand, no other Dark Wizards infiltrated the school. One week into term, no disturbances or trouble; Hogwarts was all calm. Melvin taught by day, and at night too, living very fulfillingly.
It vaguely felt like being back in student days.
Melvin turned onto the staircase, still pondering Dark Magic in his mind; Riddle’s lessons had reached the poison curse stage.
Footsteps came from the stairs behind. Professor Sprout came down from above, saw Melvin going down alone, and greeted smilingly: “Melvin, just finished class?”
“Good afternoon, Professor Sprout. Why are you coming down from up there?”
The short Herbology professor’s gray hair floated, her smile gentle: “I consulted Trelawney on weather and moon phases. Next Friday is the fullest moon of the year; a batch of herbs needs moonlight bathing, but clouds have been thick lately. I’m worried about rain.”
“How’s it looking?”
“Very good. Clear weather for the next two weeks.”
“……”
They walked together to the Great Hall, chatting about serpentwood branches cuttings. Professor Sprout had said last time special magic power was needed to cultivate them, but privately hadn’t given up, setting up a small greenhouse just for serpentwood, trying her own methods.
Walking and talking, they reached the third floor.
Crying shrieks came from the bathroom.
“You’re making fun of me!”
“You chased me to the bathroom to make fun of me!”
The shrill, piercing voice hurt the ears.
Accompanied by toilet flushing and splashing water, Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe ran out of the bathroom, expressions regretful, wizard robes splashed with water stains, flustered.
Seeing the two professors, they stopped and nodded greeting: “Professor Levent, Professor Sprout.”
Sprout waved her wand to dry their robes and smooth their hair: “So careless, running to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom?”
“Cho came back from the pitch wanting to wash her face with cold water. First- and second-floor bathrooms were full.” Marietta patted her chest, still shaken. “We won’t dare next time. I’d rather climb to the fourth floor.”
“……”
Cho Chang nodded silently, a bit embarrassed.
“Be careful next time.”
“Yes, professors. Goodbye, professors.”
Sprout watched the two little witches leave together, glanced at the bathroom, and explained to Melvin: “You’ve only been here two years, might not know. Moaning Myrtle is the school’s ghost. Unlike other ghosts, she was a student who died in school…”
……
「…According to her own account, that day she was mocked for her appearance by classmates, hid in a bathroom stall crying, heard a boy whispering, so opened the stall door, and saw two yellow lights, dying on the spot.」
「Tom, my friend, what Dark Magic do you think that was?」
In the office after dinner, Melvin wrote down the day’s news on the diary, consulting this close friend, a meaningful smile on his face.
「This incident caused a big stir. I seem to recall it a bit.」
Ink moved quickly on the diary, not sure if proud or covering: 「After Moaning Myrtle died, she wouldn’t leave, haunting Hogwarts, pestering and scaring students who once mocked her, eventually drawing Auror investigation. The case concluded she was killed by an Acromantula, a privately kept 5X-level dangerous creature by a student named Ruber Hagrid.」
「Ruber Hagrid? Hogwarts’s gamekeeper?」
「Dumbledore improperly took in this murderer.」
The writing lingered a moment then faded. The diary had no interest dwelling on the topic: 「Digging into this decades-old case is pointless, Melvin. We should practice Dark Magic.」
Melvin was somewhat surprised.
As Riddle’s first murder, used to create the diary Horcrux, Melvin thought Riddle would take pride in it, but from his wording, there was no anticipated smugness.
The quill absorbed ink. Melvin pondered a moment before writing, preparing to probe indirectly for more details.
“Knock knock knock…”
A knock suddenly sounded.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me, professor.” The replying voice was somewhat childish.
Draco?
Melvin casually put the diary in the drawer, waved to unlock the door: “Come in.”
