Hogwarts: Harry Returns from Water Margin

Chapter 15 Steel Blade Enchantment Noble Phantasm

Meanwhile, Harry went to the school building and knocked on the office door. Flitwick, seeing him, exclaimed in surprise, "Harry, what are you doing here? There's no Charms class in Gryffindor today."

Harry bowed and said, "Professor, I have an urgent matter to ask of you. Please lead the way today to find that goblin blacksmith and have him forge a good weapon!"

Flitwick asked doubtfully, "Harry, if I remember correctly, we were meeting on the weekend, right?"

Harry was about to say that a crisis was imminent at Hogwarts, but then he thought to himself: "That's just child's talk, blown away by a strong wind. I'm only eleven years old; how could the old professor believe such a thing? He would surely take it as childish nonsense."

He changed the subject abruptly, saying, "Teacher, please forgive me, but my scars have been aching lately, and I'm having nightmares at night. I'm feeling uneasy."

"I haven't learned any powerful spells for fighting this week. I just need a good weapon by my side so I can sleep soundly at night."

"The scars are painful? You can ask Professor Snape to make some calming potions."

Flitwick pondered, "However, if forging a weapon can help you sleep better, then there's nothing wrong with us going a day early. After all, you are indeed a rather special little wizard."

As he spoke, he waved his wand, and a quill suddenly jumped up, spun a few times in mid-air, found a piece of parchment, and wrote a letter of departure from school.

After receiving the paperwork to leave school, Flitwick took Harry next door to see McGonagall.

It should be understood that the Chu River and Han border are clearly distinct. Harry is a Gryffindor student, while Flitwick is the head of Ravenclaw.

Although the two had a personal relationship, they belonged to different factions, so naturally the headmaster of Gryffindor had to sign the document.

Upon meeting McGonagall, the old woman, after reviewing Harry's departure papers, asked curiously, "Forging weapons?"

"Mr. Potter, what do you need this for? Are you worried that the school can't protect your safety?"

Harry repeated his story to Flitwick, and McGonagall no longer had any doubts. She simply told Dumbledore that if the scar hurt, she could go to him, and then she signed her name.

Seeing that both of them were easy to talk to, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. In matters of swords and weapons, the magical world was much more lenient than the Song Dynasty.

If you ask why, it's because magic holds a secret: even severed limbs can be restored to their original state, as if you'd just sneezed.

With the documents in hand, Harry and Flitwick left the castle and headed to Nottingham.

Having learned their destination, Harry pondered for a moment, then called out:

"Oh dear! Nottingham is quite far, at least seven or eight hundred miles away. Why did Professor McGonagall only grant one night's leave? Could she have misread the time?"

Flitwick laughed and said, "Oh, don't worry, darling, if all goes well, we might even make it to dinner."

"Hold on tight to my arm, Harry, don't let go."

Harry didn't understand, but he did as instructed. Suddenly, it was as if a purple-gold gourd had opened, and a strong suction force pulled him away, making both of his figures disappear in the blink of an eye.

When I came to my senses, everything around me had changed.

There was green grass under my feet and a quiet forest all around. How come I'm still at Hogwarts?

As the saying goes, one can teleport and change one's form to reach the profound mysteries, covering a hundred miles in an instant. Without eating vegetarian food or drawing talismans, one's face doesn't turn red and one's legs don't go weak; even the legendary swift traveler would be envious.

Fritjof laughed, "We've arrived in Nottingham."

Harry exclaimed in admiration, "What amazing magic! Covering a hundred miles in the blink of an eye!"

"Good professor, you are a master of spells, why do you only teach unorthodox methods in class, but not such great supernatural powers?"

Hearing this compliment, Flitwick smiled and said, "That's called Apparition, and only sixth-year wizards can learn it."

Harry felt a ticklish sensation in his heart; such a wonderful ability, yet he would have to wait another five years.

Flitwick took a few steps forward and came to a huge rock. He waved his wand, and the rock rolled to the side, revealing a cave about half the size of a person.

Harry followed Flitwick into the cave and into the tunnel.

The tunnel was initially very narrow, barely wide enough for one person to pass through. After walking several dozen steps, it suddenly opened up into a bright and spacious area. Oil lamps hung on both sides, and rows of logs were neatly arranged. A large wooden door came into view.

Flitwick went up and knocked on the door. After a short while, an old monster with white hair and beard poked his head out.

Upon seeing that it was Flitwick, the old witch sneered, "Oh~ I didn't expect it to be a human wizard visiting~"

"Great wizard, what brings you to our cramped and filthy cave?"

Flitwick didn't want to argue with him, but Harry couldn't stand the goblin's strange and sarcastic manner, which insulted his teacher.

He grabbed the demon by the collar and roared, "You beast! What kind of nonsense are you spouting, daring to mock my master!"

When the old demon saw the wizard, he was about to shout, but then he saw the electric scars on the wizard's forehead and became stunned.

"My God... it's the famous Harry Potter. I heard you went to Gryffindor and even threw the Sorting Hat, you were braver than Godric..."

Seeing that the old fox was about to bring up the old story again, Flitwick simply snorted and tapped his forehead with the tip of his wand. "Don't even think about it, Legnark. Harry doesn't know where the Gryffindor sword is."

Harry asked curiously, "What is the Gryffindor sword?"

"Tsk tsk tsk~" Legnack sneered, "Mr. Potter, don't you know? A sword belonging to a goblin, but it was stolen by that scoundrel Godric—"

Before he could finish speaking, Flitwick roared, "Enough! Godric paid for your ancestor; the sword belongs to him!"

Legnac flew into a rage. "Shut up! You vile traitor! That was made by goblins! Godric only has the right to use it!"

"After he died, the sword should have been returned to the demon!"

The two continued arguing, and although Harry only half understood what they were saying, he got the gist of it.

Poems as proof:

A fine sword, forged a thousand times from refined iron, was drawn; but the demon regretted her decision and refused to redeem it.

He stole and robbed three hundred times, yet not a single blade was seen.

Harry thought to himself: If I had known the school had such good weapons, why would I have come here? But having gone through all that trouble, I shouldn't have come for nothing.

He exclaimed, "Professor, why waste words with him? We've never even seen that Gryffindor sword before. Just have him forge a good weapon for me!"

"You want to forge weapons?" Legnack narrowed his eyes. "Mr. Potter, this is no small expense."

Harry took a bag of Galleons from his robes and tossed it over, saying, "I certainly won't be short of your money. Just count this deposit."

Legnak untied the bag, leaving only a small opening, and his face was already sallow. His eyes stared intently, glowing red, as if he wanted to disappear into them.

After a moment, he put away the money bag, shook his head, and said:

"Well, Mr. Potter. This is certainly enough gold to forge a weapon."

"It's just the most ordinary kind."

It is:

Harry wanted to forge good weapons, but the goblins said there were differences.

Ordinary iron and stone can be used to make mundane things, but refined steel can reveal the extraordinary.