Chapter 5 An Unexpected Visitor
Ten minutes later, gazing at the already cold corpse beneath the tree,
Basil was still reeling from the news he had received
when he heard a "ding" in his mind.
[Killed Death Eater Fenrir Greyback, obtained a Corrupted Quality Soul. Craft an Echo?]
An Echo?
In the game, it was a product of time-space disorder caused by a Time Jacker (a thief wizard who stole a large number of Time Converters) destroying the Time Converters before being captured in the Forbidden Forest, combining the Reversal of Hours Charm with the Sands of Time.
Players, having traversed worlds, could obtain remnants of time from the Forbidden Forest from beings identical to themselves—wizards.
But it seemed different in reality?
Basil didn't dwell on it.
"Yes."
The sound of the Time Converter spinning rang out.
[Ding! Obtained Corrupted Quality Echo 〖Fenrir the Wolf〗]
"View."
The [Spellbook] opened, and the Echo panel on the left was no longer blank.
A portrait of Fenrir Greyback appeared.
Clicking on it...
Below the portrait, inscribed were the following text:
[You can convert 10% of the true damage dealt by your normal attacks and spells into health]
[Once the converted health reaches 1000, it cannot increase further]
[Overflowing health will be treated as false health, deducting damage]
[At the same time, you can transform into a werewolf/werewolf]
[Normal attacks in werewolf form will inflict the werewolf curse]
Below that were the +3 bonus slots for eight cards.
Simultaneously, another piece of information flooded Basil's mind.
Basil began to analyze it.
"Hmm, different from the game. The card bonus slots are no longer random. They are the eight spells that the Echo Wizard is most proficient in."
"But the card bonus slots no longer have two visible units. Instead, they are all void."
"They only appear after being flushed with magic or filled with soul dust."
"Once they appear, they automatically gain the corresponding bonus slot card."
"There are now Holy/Corrupted quality Echoes."
"Echoes of this quality all have a +3 bonus slot."
"Echoes no longer need to be upgraded, but they also no longer provide attribute bonuses."
"The way to obtain echoes has also changed."
"They are now 'Friendship' and 'Soul Stealing'."
"What the heck is 'Friendship'?"
"'Soul Stealing' depends on the wizard's reputation and strength; you can obtain echoes of corresponding gold or holy/corrupted quality."
"If you dismantle them, you can obtain soul dust, the spells the wizard knows, and cards formed from their talents."
An unknown amount of time passed.
Suddenly, with a boom, the fireplace flames leaped up.
They turned green.
This interrupted Basil's thoughts.
A gloomy man emerged from inside, flicking his cloak. "Granger brat, I hope you haven't wasted my time. Tell me, where did you find Greyback's trail?"
Basil stared in disbelief.
In his plan, he expected to be greeted by Professor McGonagall, the catgirl, her lower lips pursed, asking in a trembling voice with concern, "Child, are you alright?"
At the very least, he expected Dumbledore in the Goblet of Fire, with the same fiery worry for Harry, "Granger! Basil Granger! Are you alright! Where is Greyback?"
followed by a tight grip on Basil's arm.
But instead, he was met with a man dressed entirely in black, who looked like a giant bat.
Even if the world Basil had traveled to differed from the movies and games, the giant bat was undoubtedly Snape.
But was this really Snape?
Unlike Alan Rickman, the stern yet gentle teacher, he looked more like someone just returned from Azkaban.
His hair was greasy, his skin sallow, and his entire demeanor was sinister and terrifying—a typical dark wizard.
Even more absurdly, this Snape completely deflected Basil's eye attacks.
Basil was very confident in his appearance.
In the Leaky Cauldron, even the strangest, most stubborn old man would succumb to his dazzling, bright eyes.
But Snape was different.
Receiving no verbal response, a muscle twitched in his face, as if he'd seen something disgusting.
Then he began to observe the hut,
his attention immediately focusing on the sculpture of the book Basil was pressing against.
"Oh, a Portkey, a fine alchemical tool, reusable and with a better user experience. You're so wary, it seems… very good, very good, you might not be lying."
He raised an eyebrow, then continued, "So you're just paralyzed with fear. Humph, Hufflepuff."
"No, sir." Basil's face fell.
"I think you should get used to calling me Professor Snape."
"Professor."
"Very well, let me see where that wretched werewolf is?"
Snape didn't seem to care about Basil's verbal offense.
He seemed to regard Basil as a troublesome horned frog, dissecting it with cold words before brewing it as part of a potion.
"Hmm," Basil cleared his throat, "Professor, if you look out the window, you won't—"
Basil smiled smugly, keeping him in suspense.
"Outside?" Snape turned and approached the window. "Hiss—"
A corpse lay on the bushes.
Fenrir Greyback's.
The corpse was covered in wounds, especially the lower half, a complete mess.
He quickly drew his wand and looked at Basil. "What trick are you playing!"
"Professor," Basil said, feigning a sob, pitiful and teasing, "Well... I... don't know. He seems to have activated a protective mechanism left by my grandmother. The trees and grass are all alive!"
"Alive?" Snape narrowed his eyes and murmured, "Granger, the cheating Granger."
He suddenly realized where the Granger family's extraordinary talent in potions came from—their magic's strange affinity for plants.
This was also why the founder of the Extraordinary Apothecaries Guild was Hector Dagworth Granger,
not his equally gifted ancestor, Juda Prince.
The Princes all considered it cheating; even his good-natured, family-obsessed mother had written "Cheating Granger" in the potions textbook.
"Alright, I think I understand."
Snape, who, while thinking, used a Senses Charm to see and smell traces of blood on the redwood branches that were identical to those on the corpse, suddenly spoke.
"What do you understand?" Seeing Snape seemingly about to leave, Basil hurriedly said, "Wait! I have a scholarship to apply for; I'm an orphan!"
"Hogwarts does have a fund specifically for those who need assistance buying textbooks and robes. But unfortunately," Snape glanced at Basil, forcing an awkward smile, "for a prominent and wealthy family like the Grangers, especially one that uses gold for door keys, I don't think they need the scholarship."
Snape flicked his cloak and, like a gliding black bat, disappeared into the rising, changing flames of the fireplace.
"Damn it!" Basil exclaimed in exasperation.
"That bastard is not only disgusting in appearance: he looks sticky, and his hair looks like it's been washed with bacon oil."
"He's no good either!"
"He also loves to swing his cloak around; after verbally insulting Hufflepuff and my family, he did it again."
"It's disgusting, he's an adult!"
"I'm still a kid!"
"After insulting a child and his family, he left the room like a Chanel model."
Basil thought unhappily.
"Most importantly, my allowance! Am I going to become the first transmigrator in history to need to use my parents' old textbooks and old wands to go to Hogwarts instead of Ollivanders?"
Fortunately, Hogwarts' textbooks haven't changed for almost a century.
(End of Chapter)