Chapter 290: Thoughts on the Eve of School Opening
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Far from the bustle of Knockturn Alley, deep within the misty woods of Nottingham Forest, a soft, snow-like fog drifted across a narrow but elegant path.
The road wound gracefully through the trees, paved with polished stones engraved with powerful runes and images of majestic beasts.
Not far away, a towering spire rose into view — its crystalline surface glowing with gentle light, illuminating the way forward.
The forest was silent, save for the faint whisper of wind cutting through the mist.
No birds. No rustle of leaves. Only a single fat, black cat padded out from the forest's edge, stretching lazily before sitting at the path's entrance, as if waiting for someone.
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Then — pop!
The sound of air being displaced echoed like bursting bubbles.
Three figures materialized on the stone path in a swirl of white mist.
The black cat's eyes gleamed. It shot forward like a shadow, leaping into the arms of the young man in the center before anyone could react.
"Jerry!" Alexander laughed, catching the furry blur midair.
"Why are you so fat now?" Penelope asked with a teasing smile, reaching out to poke the cat's belly.
Jerry twisted around indignantly and turned her rear toward Penelope, flicking her tail with an unmistakable huff.
"Is she… scolding me?" Penelope blinked, torn between amusement and mild offense.
Alexander chuckled, scratching Jerry's chin. "She used to be a graceful lady, you know. Don't insult her figure."
Jerry purred in satisfaction, her tail swishing like a metronome.
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"I don't exist, apparently," Kate said dryly, puffing her cheeks.
She raised three wands in her hands — her spoils from Knockturn Alley.
In addition to her own Thunder Feather Loop Pine wand, still crackling with faint blue electricity, she had also bought one each for Alexander and Penelope.
Alexander's wand was ominously dark, carved from blackthorn wood, the handle spiraled and ending in the shape of a dragon's head. A faint aura of shadow coiled around it.
Dragon Knight Blackthorn, the craftsman had called it — and it paired perfectly with Alexander's other twin staffs, White Knight and Black Knight.
Penelope's wand, by contrast, was luminous — topped with a round yellow crystal, radiating golden light like captured sunlight. Its name: Acacia Staff of Time.
Kate stared at the trio of wands, conflicted and a little deflated.
"Didn't I tell you I'd pay for those?" Alexander said helplessly, still cradling Jerry. He recognized the craftsmanship immediately — his own work.
To this day, he didn't quite understand how these wands ended up in Knockturn Alley.
Take his Dragon Knight Blackthorn, for instance. In the design from his previous life's game, it was supposed to contain a troll's beard as its core. But he had replaced that with a dragon heartstring.
And yet, somehow, its power still didn't feel right — as if all its energy was being spent on its flashy effects rather than raw strength.
Alexander sighed. Figures.
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"I don't want you to pay," Kate said quickly. "I have money — and besides, it's been forever since I gave you a gift."
She raised her wand and sent a spark of blue lightning flickering through the leaves overhead.
Penelope exchanged a knowing glance with Alexander. "Well," she said suddenly, "aren't you curious about what Voldemort wrote? Even the Department of Mysteries couldn't suppress it. Just what kind of forbidden knowledge could it be?"
She shot Alexander a subtle look — clearly trying to distract Kate from her expensive purchase.
But Kate wasn't biting. "It's just Voldemort," she said, half pouting, half sighing.
Her voice was wistful, her expression torn between pride and regret as she gazed down at her wand — beautiful, but costly.
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Kate's mind wandered. It wasn't that she disliked studying; she simply had no interest in the same old wizarding theories anymore. After everything she'd experienced — Atlantis, and the strange truths Alexander sometimes let slip — even Lord Voldemort's writings seemed mundane by comparison.
Penelope, on the other hand, had spent most of her summer on family trips abroad. She wrote letters to Alexander nearly every day, but it was nothing compared to Kate's firsthand adventures beside him.
In Kate's opinion, Voldemort's book probably contained nothing more than outdated wizarding nonsense.
She couldn't have been more wrong.
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When Alexander finally sat down to read it, he was genuinely surprised.
It wasn't filled with rants about wizarding supremacy, nor did it glorify blood purity. Instead, Tom Riddle — the young man who would one day become Voldemort — had written something astonishingly objective.
From a Muggle's perspective, he detailed the modern world: their technology, transportation, food, and culture. He described the moon landing, the atomic bomb, and the vastness of scientific progress — not with disdain, but with curiosity.
His tone was almost… admiring.
Unlike the watered-down "Muggle Studies" curriculum that skimmed over real advances, Riddle's writing didn't shy away from facts.
For example, where most wizarding professors might dismiss the atomic bomb as a "large explosion easily blocked by skilled wizards," Riddle listed its actual yield, core temperature, and lethal radiation effects — numbers that made even seasoned wizards pale.
He compared broomstick speeds to fighter jets, noting that flying alongside one would cause instant death from air pressure alone.
This wasn't propaganda. It was knowledge. Cold, sharp, and brutally honest.
And that honesty made Alexander pause.
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Still, it didn't change much for him.
He was only surprised that Tom Riddle — of all people — had written it.
Now, he was far more interested in how Riddle would teach from it.
Would he use these insights to compare Muggle weaponry to the Dark Arts?
Or perhaps he'd simply twist it into another tool of fear and control?
The thought made Alexander smirk faintly.
But he stopped himself before thinking too far ahead — literally.
Because with his abilities, he could easily see how events might unfold.
And that would ruin the fun.
Sometimes, mystery was necessary.
After all — the new term was just about to begin.
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End of Chapter 290
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