A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

The Pensive Chamber

Nicolas Flamel gazed around, his eyes curious as he took in the furnishings of the room. He appeared rejuvenated by a few hundred years.

"You possess such magic? It truly astonishes me," he said with a smile. "My preparations seem unnecessary."

Felix's expression remained stern, as if he was meeting an unwelcome guest. He stood before a deep green curtain, which he rolled up to reveal a large portal behind it.

Felix stared at the door, and it swung open automatically. Inside, shadows danced, concealing the contents from clear view. Behind the door lay his inner world, holding his deepest secrets and memories.

They stepped inside, onto a long corridor flanked by towering bookshelves. Each item on the shelves—books, scrolls, memory orbs, and various odds and ends—represented their truest selves.

Against the light, only the brightness of the Pensive Chamber was visible. Felix and Nicolas Flamel's faces were obscured by darkness. Then, Felix's silhouette gestured, and the corridor transformed into a sea of clouds. The bookshelves contorted and transformed into thick, heavy clouds, layer upon layer, claiming the original positions.

The sky seemed pulled beneath their feet as dense clouds hung low. They were enveloped in a sea of clouds, with dark golden clusters extending forward from where they stood, vanishing into the unknown distance.

"Please, come in," Felix courteously said, "Shall we start from the recent days' memories?"

"Felix..." Nicolas Flamel shook his head, burdened by guilt. There were things he hadn't revealed to anyone, not even Dumbledore. He had glimpsed half of a prophecy; the world was on the brink of another transformation, more impactful than anything before.

Regrettably, he couldn't see the conclusion, nor the path ahead. His hopes rested with those who would come after.

The dark golden clouds swirled, displaying images and voices.contemporary romance

Amidst the shifting clouds, a man exuding a sense of elegance raised a palm-sized piece of parchment. With conviction, he declared, "Felix, I will keep watch endlessly..."

Nicolas Flamel briskly moved past this segment and paused before a tumultuous cloud. He observed closely. The scene contained only Felix, seated quietly in an office, perusing a stack of parchment. The images on the parchment made him furrow his brows involuntarily.

"What is this...?"

"The path Salazar Slytherin abandoned. I picked it up for a look."

Nicolas Flamel remained silent, nodding as he continued forward. He wasn't interested in trivial details; his focus was on the roiling clouds that stirred his emotions.

He traversed a not-so-short path, his clothes trailing a mist that caused the gathered images to disperse. "I can only tell you that the person's codename is 'Bigfoot'..."

Near a continuously churning area, Nicolas halted, curiosity in his eyes. "Is this the Three Broomsticks?" He observed the figures in the image—Felix and a middle-aged man with a hooked nose—sitting together. The middle-aged man seemed disinterested, numbly downing one drink after another.

"Severus, we should look ahead," Felix consoled the man in the image.

"Can you forget the past?" the middle-aged man asked. "Can you forget Chesteron Avery? Carrow, Nott, Parkinson, Selwyn... and the Shafiq family?"

Felix fell silent, clinking glasses with the man. When he brought the man back to Hogwarts, Felix watched the man lying in bed, muttering drunkenly. Gently, he said, "That's why I'm thankful to you, Professor."

Nicolas Flamel inquired, "Who is this?"

"My headmaster from my school days."

"He helped you?"

"Yes."

"He seems like a warm-hearted person."

"...Perhaps not."

Nicolas understandingly said, "I've oversimplified. People are complex."

They continued forward, stopping and starting along the way. While Felix's chase of Sirius Black and his banishing of Dementors garnered only a brief pause, Nicolas watched Felix's entire speech at the Ministry of Magic.

"What's your view on the Statute of Secrecy?" the old man asked.

"I'm pessimistic."

"Would you work towards its abolition?"

"It's a laborious endeavor with little reward. It won't hold for many more years anyway."

Nicolas sighed, "My thoughts align with yours. The magical world has remained closed off for too long, while the outside changes rapidly..."

Changing the subject, he said cheerfully, "Don't judge me by appearances. I have a safehouse right in the Muggle community, with no magic involved. Though it disrupts all modern electrical appliances—fridges, air conditioners, ovens... even household gaming consoles. Do you know about these? Peeves adores them... I also hold another title: Expert in Mystical Studies!"

...

Inside the Pensieve.

Nicolas Flamel looked around with keen interest, observing the furnishings of the room. His demeanor had aged by several hundred years, yet he appeared curious and lively.

"You still possess such magic? It truly astonishes me," he said with a smile, "My own preparations seem unnecessary now."

Felix Harp stood with a stern expression, as though he was expecting an unwelcome guest. He stood in front of deep green curtains, which were pulled back to reveal a grand entrance beyond.

Felix's gaze fixed upon the door, which swung open on its own. Inside lay a shadowy realm, where the contents remained obscure and concealed. Beyond the door lay his inner world, hiding all the deepest secrets and memories.

They stepped inside, onto a long corridor flanked by towering bookshelves. Each item on the shelves—books, scrolls, memory spheres, and various trinkets—represented his truest self.

Against the light, the brilliance of the Pensieve was visible, with Felix and Nicolas Flamel's faces shrouded in darkness. Then, Felix, with a wave of his arm, caused a surge of wind down the aisle. The bookshelves twisted and transformed into thick, heavy clouds, layer upon layer, occupying the space where they once stood.

The sky seemed to descend to their feet, with thick clouds hanging low. They found themselves amidst a sea of clouds, golden on either side, extending forward from their position and disappearing into the unknown distance.

"Please, come in," Felix said courteously, "Shall we begin with memories from recent days?"

" Felix..." Nicolas shook his head, a guilty expression on his face. Some things he hadn't revealed to anyone, not even Dumbledore. He had seen half of a prophecy, and this world was on the brink of change, more impactful than anything before.

Regrettably, he couldn't see the conclusion or the path ahead; he could only place his hopes in those who would come after.

The golden clouds swirled, giving rise to images and voices.

As the clouds gathered, a man exuding an air of elegance held up a small piece of parchment in his hand. With determination, he vowed, "Felix, I will keep watch..."

Nicolas Flamel quickly walked past this segment, stopping in front of another swirling cloud of gold. He observed attentively as a scene unfolded: Felix sitting quietly in his office, poring over a stack of parchment. His brows furrowed at the images depicted on the parchment.

"What is this...?" Nicolas asked.

"The path Salazar Slytherin abandoned. I picked it up to take a look," Felix explained.

Nicolas nodded in understanding, continuing on, focusing on the surging clouds that held emotions he could sense.

They moved forward, and Nicolas's attention was drawn to Felix's classroom discourse in his seventh year. Nicolas murmured, "The seeds of miracles..." contemplating their significance.

Continuing their journey, they listened to memories of Felix speaking to a freckled boy, saying, "This is Nicolas Flamel in a rat's body." Nicolas couldn't help but chuckle, finding the metaphor intriguing.

Felix felt a tad embarrassed; he hadn't expected the main presence to catch his playful comment.

Nicolas mused, "So, the infamous Sirius Black was innocent, and the unassuming Peter Pettigrew was the traitor? Animagus... The only uncertainty is the Fidelius Charm, yet Secret-Keepers can be transferred. Perhaps the Potters had deceived everyone from the very start."

Felix calmly stated, "You should have realized this sooner; you skipped over some crucial details."

Nicolas smiled wryly, saying, "I can't exactly glue my nose to your face and observe every minute detail. Although not very convincing, I still aimed to restore a part of your image in my heart."

"Is that so?" Felix muttered.

Next cloud cluster, Nicolas pointed to a young girl in the scene, asking, "And who is this young lady?"

"Hermione Granger, my assistant in Ancient Runes class," Felix explained.

"Very thoughtful," Nicolas observed as he saw Hermione placing a potted plant on a desk laden with books, adding a touch of life to the dim space.

"But what happened before this? You seem to have been affected by something... Ah, I see it now. A magical outburst, an unusual approach..."

In response to Nicolas's curiosity, Felix recounted his memories of the confrontation he had initiated in his fifth year.

In a corner of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, after Dumbledore's welcoming speech, a young Felix calmly donned his gloves. There were empty seats on either side of him, making it easy for him to stand up and walk with composure toward a blond-haired student.

As Felix slowly removed his gloves, he spoke in a deliberate manner, "Salazar Shafiq, one of the sacred twenty-eight pure-blood families? Nobility, honor... or perhaps just a pile of rubbish that hides in the shadows and strikes from behind? I guess every inch of your veins must be tainted with filth. I'm curious to see if it's true." He tossed the gloves onto the blond student's face.

The blond student was already tense, his face dripping with sweat. The white gloves adhered to his neck and fell to the ground due to his trembling. He struggled to speak, "Felix..."

"Very well, I've said it all, don't disappoint me." Felix's eyes bore into him, mocking as he said, "You're Shaafik, aren't you?"

"I, I ac... I—" Golden-haired Shaafik tumbled off his seat, his body going limp.

"Felix Harp!" Snape strode purposefully from his professor's seat, his voice a low growl. "What do you intend to do?"

"Professor," Felix slightly inclined his head, "as you can see, I want to see whether the blood of this family runs red or black."

Seething with anger, Snape's hand trembled, his voice low. "Cease your petty revenge game. Dumbledore has intervened, in ways unseen by you! Believe me, he will make the Shaafik family pay."

"I want more," Felix said, a peculiar glint in his eyes. "Why let this decaying family continue to be a nuisance?"

"Felix Harp," Snape suppressed his inner dread, seeing a shadow of someone else in his young student's eyes. "I forbid you from doing this."

Felix toyed with his wand, saying nothing.

Dumbledore approached. "Miller, take Shaafik away. The rest," his voice raised, "led by the prefect, return to the common room."

...

In a memory corridor, Felix inquired, "Do you have any insights, Nicolas? Do you think I went too far?"

Nicolas remained silent on this unpleasant topic and continued walking. He saw, at the end of their fourth year, Felix walking out of the school gates, toppling those who attacked him with various curses.

It was hard to muster sympathy, even if one of the attackers' heads had doubled in size – because it was a curse he himself had cast.

The memories of the entire fourth year were pale and monotonous, filled with scenes of Felix practicing spells in various secluded corners, forming the entirety of that year's memories.

In a dim cave within the Forbidden Forest, a brilliant green light illuminated the narrow, damp space, revealing a tightly drawn face.

"The Killing Curse..."

"Yes, it's said to be quite effective. I put a lot of thought into finding it," Felix said nonchalantly.

Nicolas shook his head, disapproving of his words. "The Unforgivable Curses corrode the soul. Even Dementors, the proud ones, must undergo regular psychological counseling, let alone you, a child at the time."

"The circumstances were exceptional, I didn't think that far, and you missed something – my spectral friend intervened."

"You mean the lady, I recall you called her Helena?"

"Another one, the one covered in silvery blood."

Nicolas Flamel persisted, "Nevertheless, you shouldn't have delved into dark magic, especially at such a young age..."

"Well, thank you for your concern."

The old man said sternly, "I can tell, it's a lie."

...

Nicolas Flamel stood before a massive black cloud, his mood sour. The cloud exuded a deep black mist, resembling a beast with bared fangs and claws. He felt as if he could hear the beast roaring, but it was all his illusion – a scene from the start of their fourth year –

Dozens of owls circled above the empty long table. Only young Felix sat with his back turned to them. The owls dropped red letters, which contorted into malicious shapes, spewing venomous words.

"Filthy mudblood! Slytherin's shame. Don't let me see you, I'll crush your bones one by one..."

"Have you heard of the Unforgivable Curses? Mind-piercing agony, mind-piercing agony!" Followed by grating laughter.

"...curse your name, curse your blood!"

The sounds of shouting letters echoed in the hall, intertwining into an incomprehensible cacophony. The whispers of the other three houses, Slytherin students' cold gazes, and the cowering of the younger wizards created a tumultuous scene.

"Boom!"

All the letters exploded into ashes. Felix stood up expressionless, a path forming through the crowd.

"Merlin's beard!" Professor McGonagall rushed over, flustered. The Slytherin table was a mess. She ranted angrily, "Wretched, despicable creatures who only lurk in the gutter! Utterly vile..."

"Are you alright, Harp?" She said cautiously, reaching to touch Felix's shoulder, recoiling as if shocked.

"I'm fine, Professor." Young Felix stated calmly. "Better than ever, actually."

In the corridor,

"This is?"

"The day I received my Hogwarts acceptance letter."

"Let's stop here, Felix." Nicolas Flamel murmured, and they returned to reality.

...

"This way, Felix." Nicolas Flamel strode forward, leaving the annoying voices behind. Felix followed, unhurried. "Slow down, I've realized something. Sharing the past with someone doesn't seem so bad. To be honest, I'm tired of making up lies, but finding the right person is quite challenging."

The old man paid no mind to Felix's chatter. Finally, they passed through that area. Shallow golden sunlight appeared, enveloping them in immense joy.

Golden, airy clouds floated like marshmallows, refracting colorful light. Nicolas Flamel stared fixedly at the scene above:

A black-haired young boy sat in the yard, quietly reading a book. Over a dozen boys and girls played and laughed, working up a sweat around a makeshift basketball hoop.

"Hey, little Felix, come play with us!"

The boy with short black hair raised his book. "After I finish these two pages—" He suddenly looked up, eyes bright as if meeting Nicolas Flamel's gaze.

Felix caught up leisurely. "You're not slow at all. Oh? Is this..."

He looked at the boy on the scene. The boy blinked his light blue eyes, his smile radiant. He extended his hand toward Felix.

Felix blinked back and extended his hand too, as if their hands were really touching.

"Pow!"

An owl landed on the boy's hand, holding a letter in its beak.

It was a brown letter crafted from parchment, green ink spelling out an address on one side. On the other, a wax seal and a coat of arms – a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake encircling a capital 'H'.

In the corridor,

"What's this?"

"The day I received my acceptance letter to Hogwarts."

"Let's stop here, Felix." Nicolas Flamel whispered, and they returned to reality.

This chapter enriches Felix's past experiences. It won't be mentioned again and there won't be any more extras like this, so if you're not interested, please ignore. It's quite crucial though, marking a key turning point. Subsequent plot should be quite exciting.

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