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

"Thump—thump—thump—"

The red-haired wizard idly tapped the portrait frame, occasionally peering out to see what the other portraits were doing.

Students called this tower the Astronomy Tower because they observed celestial bodies and attended Astronomy classes at its summit each week. Most of the portraits in the corridor were also related to astronomy. They were largely quiet and reserved; none were willing to chat with him.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps and then saw a familiar student walk by. He quickly chased after him.

"Hey, are you over your cold? Morrie gave you some potion, didn't he? That old geezer's stimulating draught is pretty good—"

He expected the student to walk away without looking back, just as before, but to his surprise, the other person suddenly stopped and looked at him thoughtfully.

"Is your name Griffiths?" Wade asked.

"That's right!" The red-haired wizard nodded happily. "Morrie told you, didn't he? He's the only one who occasionally chats with me now."

"Aren't there many other portraits here?" Wade gestured around.

"Sigh, don't even get me started," Griffiths said glumly. "Do you see that old man in the portrait diagonally across from me?"

Wade looked over. He was referring to an old wizard with stars on his robes and hat, standing before a large telescope, intently gazing at the starry sky.

Griffiths continued, "He's been holding that telescope for centuries, observing the unchanging starry sky in the portrait, and he just finds me annoying. And then there's Shalome, the one with glasses, always writing and calculating on parchment, never stopping. Her calculations were actually confirmed by Muggle scientists over a hundred years ago, yet she still keeps calculating."

Wade saw a thin witch hunched over her calculations; even hearing Griffiths' words, she didn't pause.

"And those little stargazing kids over there, see them? They're like a bunch of Cornish Pixies!" Griffiths complained. "When they're not stargazing or sleeping, they must be causing trouble—knocking over the old starry man's telescope, tearing Shalome's parchment, or pulling my hair and splashing ink on my robes! I'm really fed up!"

Griffiths sighed, lonely and helpless. Even in Wade's bad mood, he couldn't help but be amused, and the gloom, heaviness, and suspicion in his heart seemed to dissipate.

He asked, "How long have you been hanging here? Haven't you gotten used to it yet?"

"Oh, you don't know. I used to hang in the entrance hall on the first floor, surrounded by portraits. I could watch the young wizards come and go every day, occasionally teaching them pranks. It was so much fun," Griffiths said regretfully. "But later, they moved me to the Astronomy Tower to hang Phineas Nigellus Black's portrait. I thought it would be nice to meet new friends. I never expected it to be so boring here!"

"Can't portraits move between frames?" Wade asked.

"Yes, we can, but it takes a lot of effort. Most of the time, I can only stay in my own portrait," Griffiths said expectantly. "Can you move my portrait back to the entrance hall? Or just somewhere lively! I'll repay you!"

Wade didn't agree immediately but said, "I need to ask a professor first. As long as they don't object, I'll help you move."

Griffiths thought for a moment, then asked, "—And if they object?"

"Then I'll secretly help you move somewhere else, just not the entrance hall—that's too conspicuous," Wade said.

"Excellent!" Griffiths was so excited he almost jumped. He urged, "Then go ask quickly! Ask soon."

"…Hm, alright."

Wade smiled and turned to leave.

He had originally intended to ask Griffiths if Professor Morrie had truly come from his office that morning, and if Quirrell often visited this area. But after a few sentences, he abandoned the idea.

The red-haired wizard was terribly chatty, not someone who could keep a secret. Moreover, he had undoubtedly known Professor Morrie longer, so why would Wade expect him to keep a secret for him?

It was better to move the portrait first… and then make plans.

Terence Morrie finally finished teaching his seventh-year students. He stormed out, clutching his lesson plan, leaving behind a few quivering students who looked at each other, their expressions wilted as if they had just endured a storm.

What did he mean by "first-year students are stronger than you"? Did first-years even know what alchemy was? Did they know how to write '0' in Runes?

They were indignant, but under Professor Morrie's scolding, no one dared to refute him. They could only meekly say, "Yes, yes, everything you say is correct."

Professor Morrie grew even angrier.

After meeting Wade, the students he had meticulously chosen began to annoy him more and more. When he reviewed their last alchemy assignments, he became even more dissatisfied, ultimately assigning five times the usual homework, still feeling that these students had it too easy.

Professor Morrie grumbled back to his office. From afar, he heard an enthusiastic voice: "Was class smooth today, Professor Morrie? The young wizards must have learned a lot, right?"

It's hard to remain truly cold when faced with such enthusiasm. Professor Morrie unconsciously smiled. "Oh, Griffiths!"

"Yes, who else but me?" Griffiths said.

Professor Morrie couldn't help but stop in the corridor and complain to him about his students: "—It's one thing to be less intelligent than others, but they're not even as diligent. Why bother studying alchemy? They might as well be decorations in the Ministry of Magic!"

"So you're interested in that young wizard?" Griffiths asked, leaning on the portrait frame with a smile.

Professor Morrie fell silent for a moment, then suddenly sighed.

"Griffiths, gifted wizards often show their uniqueness from a young age, displaying brilliance and attracting everyone's attention as soon as they enter school. But talented individuals always yearn to learn profound and dangerous magic, to wield greater power, and pursue grander gains. Few are willing to settle down and research alchemy."

"But in my opinion, what good is it to master the most dangerous forbidden magic in the world? Look at those who were once renowned! Some fell as quickly as shooting stars, some became infamous Dark Lords, and others, despite their great fame, ended up with nothing! The more powerful they became, the more death and slaughter they brought to the world!"

"What can truly bring change to the wizarding world, what can bring happiness to people, should be alchemy! We must constantly learn from Muggles, innovate technology, and improve alchemical products to ensure the better development of the wizarding world, and to… to prevent wizards from being annihilated by Muggles."

"But these past years… though I've made some progress, introducing certain Muggle inventions into the magical world, I only feel like a baby learning to walk. The harder I try to catch up to the giants ahead, the more despairingly vast the gap between us becomes… and this gap is constantly widening."

"And my students? All they think about is inventing some popular magical item and making a lot of money. That's all they think about—"

"But that child is different, isn't he?" Griffiths suddenly asked.

"Yes—" Professor Morrie smiled. "Even though he's only eleven."