Hogwarts, a Scholar Becomes a God

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To be honest, Clark had never seen Dumbledore be so indecisive as he was tonight.

The old headmaster of Hogwarts, the most powerful white wizard in the entire British wizarding world, has always shown his smart and wise image. In his sly eyes, he always seems to be able to see through everything and gain insight into all secrets.

However, now, his words have lost the confidence and ease with which he can handle everything. It seemed that for a moment, he really turned into a hundred-year-old old man, old-fashioned and unresponsive.

But Clark knew that it was all just a lie.

His spiritual perception clearly told him that he was not in front of some weak and powerless old guy, but a dazzling mass of endless white light that filled the entire room, and could even shroud the entire Hogwarts Castle in it. .

That kind of warm and broad love, just a little touch, can make people let go of all troubles and sorrows, forget all unhappiness, and become a kind person.

"Hey, with the passage of time, even if he is as strong as Dumbledore, is he almost unable to suppress his own magic power?"

Clark felt it carefully, and at the same time muttered to himself in his heart.

You must know that for a real strong person, controlling one's own strength should be as simple as controlling one's own siblings.

However, Dumbledore's situation was worse than what he felt when the first year started.

That's right, his power has become stronger, and the magic on his body has become stronger, and he can even resonate with the entire Hogwarts castle.

However, its control over the chaotic magic power has dropped a lot, and it cannot even control the spread of its own magic power.

This is also the reason why the old principal is becoming more and more reclusive and rarely appears in front of their students.

Faced with Dumbledore's situation, even Clark had no good solution.

After all, unlike Ginny and other little wizards, the magic of chaos has long been an inseparable part of Dumbledore's life.

If I really want to carry out the transfer ceremony, I am afraid that the moment when the magic power collapses, it will be the time of Dumbledore's death.

"Professor, the environment is like this. It's not that we want to go this far, but the environment forces us to do this."

Clark could only whisper softly.

"This time is different, this time the situation faced by the British... and even the entire European magical world is different from the situation caused by Grindelwald.

That time, it was just the ambition of a certain conspirator, but this time, it was a battle for national fortune driven by the general trend.

Isn't the situation we encounter today the same as the situation faced by the African Ministry of Magic and the Indian Ministry of Magic?

Do you hope that in the future we, even our children, will be just as snoring as they are? "

Dumbledore sighed, "Hey, this man is old after all, and he always likes to ignore his thoughts."

His wrinkled face squeezed into a smile again, and in his sapphire-like bright eyes, the old look was restored.

"Although the general trend of history is like a turbulent river, rolling forward unstoppable. But we wizards are not afraid of even gods, so why are we afraid of destiny and the general trend?"

Dumbledore's dry palm rested directly on the wooden cup without any hesitation. The old and green, the twilight and the vitality, formed a sharp contrast.

"Hey, just let me, an old bone, come and make a journey for you children."

Following Dumbledore's words, in Clark's spiritual perspective, the pure white light that enveloped the entire Hogwarts Castle and originated from Dumbledore, like flowing mercury, began to move towards the top of the castle. The principal's office gathered.

And the wooden cup in Dumbledore's hand was like a long whale absorbing water, and he was not afraid of the gathered white light.

Not only that, when the white light was flowing, the literary fortune and talent that had been floating above Hogwarts, brilliant like auspicious clouds, were also dragged and wrapped into the cup together.

And under Dumbledore's actions, the inexplicable power gathered in the rough wooden cup began to be compressed and compressed again, and finally condensed into a drop of pure white water that bloomed with colorful rays of light, falling into the water. bottom of the cup.

One drop, two drops, three drops...

No one knew how long Dumbledore lasted, but the water droplets blooming with colorful light in the wooden cup were accumulating more and more.

In the end, when all the white light in the sky disappeared, and the literary movement over Hogwarts Castle was as thin as fog, the liquid level in the old wooden cup had risen to the mouth of the cup.

"Phew, alright." Dumbledore released his palm, his whole body seemed to have aged a lot, his eye sockets were sunken, and there was a thick shadow.

"Professor, are you okay?" Clark asked with concern.

Dumbledore waved his hand, indicating that he was fine, then pointed at the cup, "Next, it's up to you."

Clark nodded, took a step forward, stretched out his left index finger, pointed his wand toward the tip of the finger, and hung it above the liquid.

"Tick!"

A drop of blood with a hint of dark gold in the dark red, mixed with the [God of Knowledge] divine power that Clark poured into it, dripped into the cup.

The blood poured into the water, but miraculously, it did not spread, but sank straight into the bottom of the cup like a solidified ruby.

Clark murmured in a low voice, as if singing some ancient song, as if calling for some mysterious place.

Accompanied by his singing, the liquid level in the water cup also "gumbled" with bubbles, and traces of golden-red filaments spread in the water.

Then, there were two green leaves, lightly sticking their heads out of the water.

"Father of Nature...Mother of Wisdom...Father and Mother, gather your eyes..."

Clark's singing continued, and the two young leaves also grew wildly in the wind, and soon turned into a small tree, rising half a meter high, covering the entire cup.

This twig is lush, covered with oval leaves with dark golden patterns, and from a distance, it looks like it is covered with scales.

It's just that after this change, the liquid that was originally accumulated in the cup was not left.

But this is not over yet, when the small tree in the wooden cup grows to its most lush, it begins to flourish and decline.

The original green and green leaves gradually lost their luster and became yellow and fragile.

And when all the leaves on this small tree withered, strands of blue and white flames jumped up from the roots and engulfed the whole small tree.

The transformation of water and fire, growth and prosperity, although this magical magical ritual is complicated, it completed a reincarnation in front of them in an instant.

When I looked again, there was still only the roughly carved wooden cup on Dumbledore's table. The only difference might be the blue-white flame burning in the cup.

The Holy Grail was ignited and turned into the Goblet of Fire, and Clark's mission here tonight was considered complete.

He raised his head and glanced at Dumbledore, who was curled up in a chair with a thin body, and knew that the other party probably didn't have the strength to talk to him at the moment.

So Wei Wei bowed her body and saluted, left decisively, and closed the door.

The next day, the morning of October 30, when Clark and the others went downstairs for breakfast, they found that the auditorium had been renovated overnight.

Hanging on the wall are huge silk banners, each one representing a Hogwarts house:

Gryffindor with a golden lion on a red background, Ravenclaw with a bronze eagle on a blue background, Hufflepuff with a black badger on a yellow background, and Squirrel with a silver python on a green background Laitlin.

Behind the teacher's desk, there is also the largest banner with the Hogwarts coat of arms: a lion, eagle, badger and snake linked together around a large "h".

Clark and the others sat down at the Gryffindor table, next to Fred and George.

When they saw Clark, they were both very happy.

"He said yes, Clark!" George shouted excitedly at Clark.

"You're right in your judgment. Franchise, he will discuss with us when he comes tonight." Fred waved his hand and made an "ok" gesture.

Clark nodded. "The two of you talk to him when the time comes, and I'm sure you two won't screw it up."

"Of course, we're not as stupid as Ron!" The two laughed in unison.

"What?" Ron exclaimed in confusion.

As they ate breakfast, the conversation quickly shifted to the Triwizard Tournament.

"By the way, do you two have a solution for the Triwizard Tournament?" Harry asked curiously, seeing that the twins were having a good time, "Do you still want to sneak in?"

"I asked Professor McGonagall how the Warriors were chosen, but she wouldn't tell me," George said resentfully. "She just told me to shut up and focus on transforming my raccoon."

"Don't know what the tournaments are all about?" said Ron thoughtfully. "You know what, I bet we can do it too, Harry. We've done such dangerous things before..."

"Didn't Clark say before that the dragon farm will be used for competitions," Harry forked a piece of bacon and stuffed it into his mouth, "Maybe we will face a fire dragon, but I can't do that."

"You're not in front of the jury either, are you?" Fred said aside. "McG said the referees will rate the Warriors based on the quality of their projects."

"Who is the referee?" Harry asked.

"Oh, the principal of the participating school must be a member of the jury," said Hermione—everyone turned their heads to look at her in astonishment, "because in the 1792 Tournament, the warriors were trying to catch a chicken-body snake-tailed monster. Uncontrolled, rampage, all three principals were injured."

Noticing that everyone was staring at her, she said, "It's all written in Hogwarts, A History of the School."

Well, only Hermione would watch that stuff.

Harry shook his head, lowered his head and poured himself some scrambled eggs.

By the way, and Clark, who reads those books too.

For the rest of the day, there was an emotion of joy called "expectation" in the air.

In the class, almost no one was paying attention to the class, and even Clark had to admit that he was a little absent-minded.

Everyone thought that tonight, the men from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were coming.

Thinking of this, Snape's Potions class wasn't as unbearable as usual, because it had to end half an hour earlier—

When the bell rang early, Clark, Hermione, and Neville hurried to Gryffindor Tower, put down their bags and textbooks, donned their cloaks, and rushed down the stairs in three and two steps to the hall.

College deans are ordering their students to line up.

"Weasley, get your hat straight," Professor McGonagall said to Ron sternly. "Miss Patil, get that ridiculous thing off your hair."

Parvati frowned unhappily and removed a large butterfly headdress from the end of the braid.

"Follow me, everyone," Professor McGonagall said. "First-year students are ahead...don't crowd..."

The little wizards filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle.

It was a cold, airy evening, and night was falling silently.

A white, translucent moon had already hung over the Forbidden Forest, shedding a cool, veil-like brilliance.

At this moment, the natural world and the man-made castle are interdependent, creating a beautiful and fantastic picture together.

Clark and others were standing in this fantastic background board, and the small figures were not so conspicuous.

"It's almost six," said Ron, looking at his watch, stomping his feet in the cold, and looking at the front door. "How are they going to get here? By train?"

"I don't think so," Hermione said. "It's the first time I've come here, at least I have to show a little bit of my cards."

"How come? Broomsticks?" Harry guessed, looking up at the starry sky.

"Is the broomstick very good... Besides, it still flew from so far away..."

"Where's the door key?" Ron guessed. "Or they could Apparate—perhaps in their place, people under seventeen are allowed to Apparate too?"

"Apparitions are not allowed in the Hogwarts grounds. How many times do I have to tell you this?" Hermione said impatiently.

The little wizards glanced excitedly at the gradually darkened venue, but there was still no movement.

Everything was so quiet, peaceful, and the same as usual.

Some people had already started to get restless, and the chattering voices could no longer be suppressed, and gradually rang out in the crowd, and everyone was cold and hungry.

At this moment, Dumbledore, who was standing in the back row with the other teachers, shouted—

"Ah! If I'm not mistaken, the representative of Beauxbatons has arrived!"

"Where? Where?" many students asked eagerly, looking in different directions.

"There!" a sixth-grader shouted, pointing to the sky above the Forbidden Forest.

They looked up and looked up, and they saw a giant, far bigger than a hundred broomsticks.

Drilled out of the bright moon, quickly swept across the dark blue sky, and flew towards Hogwarts Castle, gradually getting bigger and bigger.