Harry Potter: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me from Studying

"Thump—thump—thump—"

His heart pounded violently, and his soaked clothes clung to his skin. A cold gust of wind pierced him to the bone.

This was the closest Wade had come to death since his rebirth.

Although first-year Harry Potter dealt with the possessed Voldemort with apparent ease in the story, that was due to his mother's protective magic. If it had been Wade in his current state, even if he knew ten times more spells than Harry Potter, being discovered by Voldemort would almost certainly mean death.

In this second life, Wade wasn't particularly afraid of death. But he could accept dying for a great cause or to protect loved ones, not for such a ridiculous reason—being silenced for accidentally overhearing a villain's secret, dying as silently and insignificantly as cannon fodder.

Worried about encountering Quirrell again, Wade hid on the secluded platform for a long time. Unconsciously, he leaned against the wall and fell asleep. When he suddenly awoke, he realized it was almost midnight, and the sky was still very dim.

The Quidditch pitch was long deserted. In the vast school grounds, only an adult wizard with silver-white hair was strolling by the Black Lake—likely a professor, but not Dumbledore, who had a long white beard.

Wade didn't get a clear look at the person's face, but he didn't care as long as it wasn't Quirrell. He stood up, leaning against the wall, feeling light-headed. His body swayed involuntarily, and he almost lost his balance.

This isn't good.

Wade thought to himself, reaching up to touch his forehead—it didn't feel too hot because his palm was scorching. With each breath, the heat scorched his nostrils, giving Wade the illusion that if he placed an egg nearby, his body heat could cook it.

Wade climbed back into the empty classroom through the window and dragged his weary body towards the hospital wing. Most of the portraits in the corridor were asleep, but a young red-haired wizard was idly lounging on a picture frame, staring blankly. Upon seeing Wade, his eyes lit up, and he asked curiously, "What's wrong? Are you sick?"

"Why aren't you back in your common room tonight?"

"Madam Pomfrey is probably still asleep! Do you want me to wake her up for you?"

"Haha, just kidding! She doesn't have my portrait in her bedroom."

"Why aren't you talking? Say something to me! I'm so bored being awake alone."

Wade had no energy to humor him, but this red-haired wizard persistently followed him through several portraits, chattering incessantly. He didn't seem embarrassed by the lack of response, suggesting his real self was an incurable chatterbox.

Only when they reached a long stretch of corridor with no portraits did the red-haired wizard reluctantly give up. He still called out loudly from afar, "You must not have many friends with that personality, right? Come find me when you're better! I can talk to you!"

Wade's head ached so badly he almost wanted to pry open his skull. The wizard's nagging was incredibly annoying and distracted him greatly. By the time Wade noticed another set of footsteps in the corridor besides his own, the sound was already very close!

—Almost just around a corner!

Wade instantly stiffened.

He instinctively tried to dodge, but his sluggish body couldn't react in time.

"Thump!"

The footsteps approached...

"Thump!"

The world seemed to shrink before his eyes, his vision blurring, yet his hearing remained sharp.

"Thump!"

A figure appeared from behind the corner.

"What's wrong, child?" someone asked him.

But Wade's mind was like a rusted gear, taking a long moment to respond.

"Oh, you have quite a fever." The person gently nudged him. "Come with me, child—come this way—luckily, my office is nearby."

Silver-white hair swayed before his eyes, looking somewhat like Dumbledore's. Wade lowered his guard.

A few minutes later, Wade held an empty cup, steam continuously rising from his ears. He stared blankly at the wizard before him, which made him look rather foolish.

The person who had suddenly appeared in the corridor was not Quirrell, whom he feared, nor Dumbledore, whom he had assumed. Instead, it was an unfamiliar male wizard. He looked at least eighty years old, dressed in deep blue robes, with neatly combed silver-white short hair and no beard.

Notably, he wore a Muggle shirt and suit pants under his robes, with his tie perfectly done—something wizards generally struggled with. A strangely styled gold-rimmed monocle hung from his breast pocket.

At that moment, the wizard had appeared in the corridor, noticed Wade's poor condition, and brought him to his office, even offering him a Stimulating Draught. It was undeniably more effective than the potions from the hospital wing.

After drinking it, Wade's dazed mind immediately cleared significantly. Aside from his ears still steaming, everything else was fine, and he could clearly see his surroundings.

It was a circular room, illuminated brightly by a dozen magical lamps of varying sizes. Shelves and tables held many peculiar and interesting trinkets.

A golden hourglass slowly spun; a dozen small crystal balls strung on silver wire pulsed with colorful light, brightening and dimming like breathing; a realistic miniature manor sat on a nearby cabinet, with thumb-sized people and an even smaller dog living within, even drawing water and cooking.

The room also contained some Muggle technological creations—a refrigerator, an oven, a television, a computer, a washing machine, and even a disassembled car engine.

This was truly the strangest room Wade had ever seen.

The wizard who had brought him was tinkering with a radio. A moment later, a woman's enthusiastic voice emerged from it—

"Good morning, dear listeners, busy wizards! A wonderful day begins with 'Magic Time.' Today, your beloved Granda Chaddock is still hosting the show. First, let's enjoy the new song released by Celestina Warbeck—'You Stole My Cauldron, But You Can't Have My Heart'..."

"Oh, good thing I didn't miss it. This is my favorite radio show," the wizard muttered, then turned and asked with a kindly smile, "Feeling better, child?"

"Yes, much better, thank you for your help, sir," Wade asked cautiously, "May I ask who you are—"

"I am the Alchemy Professor, Terence Morrie," Professor Morrie said with a smile. "If you can achieve an 'Outstanding' in Charms, Transfiguration, and Ancient Runes, and at least 'Exceeds Expectations' in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, and Potions in your fifth-year O.W.L.s, you can take my course in your sixth year. You're very fond of alchemy, aren't you, child?"

He looked down, and Wade noticed On the Diversity of Species was partially sticking out of his bag. He tucked the book back in and said, "Yes, Professor, I'm self-studying alchemy."

"For you, this material might be a bit too early. You should start with the basics, like The Spell Chart."

"I've memorized The Spell Chart completely, sir. Also The Book of Magical Symbols, A Dictionary of Runes, and An Easy Introduction to Ancient Runes. Additionally, I've read Introduction to Alchemy and Understanding Alchemy by Mr. Nicolas Flamel."

Professor Morrie was stunned.