Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Chapter 519: Chapter 159: Grindelwald’s Paper Airplane

In the early morning, Vid pushed open the window, and the cold air rushed in eagerly, dispelling the foul atmosphere that had lingered in the room overnight.

He looked up at the sky, seeing some faintly glowing stars still hanging in the sky, the distant mountains hidden in darkness, only the snow-capped peaks reflecting the starlight in a hazy outline.

The Witch Pure Party chose to act at a very early hour this time, and it was still two hours before dawn. Candles began to light up in the rooms of the castle one by one, and sounds of movement echoed in the corridors.

Hogwarts had been in session for two days, but at such an early hour, probably only house-elves were busy preparing breakfast, while the students were certainly still deep in their dreams.

Vid sighed softly, suddenly feeling nostalgic for life at school.

Amid the scent of burning pinewood in the bedroom, Vid washed and dressed, donned a cloak that concealed his appearance, and hung around himself several anti-curse items he had painstakingly crafted.

Turning back, he saw the magic books piled on the shelves.

Due to the language barrier, Vid, who had just started learning German, read very slowly, merely skimming the contents and choosing a few of the most interesting to read carefully.

But Vid didn’t neglect the other books either. Instead, he used the Gemino Curse to copy them all and cast The Undetectable Extension Charm on his clothes pocket, stuffing the copied books inside.

This trip out is an opportunity to escape, even though the Adler Manor has an Anti-Disapparition Charm, Vid can first turn into a Peregrine Falcon to escape the spell’s range, then Apparate to flee.

The key is to escape Grindelwald’s sight.

Vid had basically discerned the level of the Witch Pure Party, quite unlike the legendary Dark Wizard Legion that was unbeatable and ruthless; now, most of the Witch Pure Party members were actually similar to those wizards in the Ministry of Magic.

Simply put, more than half of them were relearning the Iron Armor Spell recently, and three-quarters used nonverbal spells with murmured incantations as a bluff; many relied on luck to hit their targets while running and casting spells.

Compared to the Ministry of Magic, these people’s advantage is their willingness to use highly destructive Dark Magic without hesitation, causing injuries that are often difficult to heal.

Moreover, battle acts as the best catalyst, judging by video evidence, the Dark Wizards’ skills are rapidly improving.

But at their current skill level, trying to intercept a small Peregrine Falcon on a chaotic battlefield would be beyond most of their awareness and ability.

Life in the castle was not bad, but Vid had never been out of touch with his parents for so long, and surely they were very worried.

Furthermore, for learning magic, Hogwarts’ library was more conducive to Vid—at least he didn’t need to constantly flip through dictionaries or consult others on grammar, nor fear mispronouncing a word leading to hazards, leaving him wary of trying new magic spells.

The wizard who was nearly trampled to death by a cow constantly reminded Vid of the dangers of using incorrect spells.

As he left the room, the bedroom maintained its usual appearance—a stack of unfinished notes lay on the desk, and two sets of clothes hung by the bed.

If he couldn’t find an opportunity to escape this time... Vid could pretend as if nothing had happened, continuing to maintain the current harmonious and friendly atmosphere.

...

The morning mist spread, a slender twig snapped under a black boot, making a soft crackling sound.

Soon after, a large serpent with a thick body slithered behind, gliding over withered branches and leaves and the snowy ground, creating a rustling sound.

The wizard in a gray cloak almost blended into the mist, trekking along the winding forest path in the dark woods.

Finally, he stopped on a hillside, drawing his magic wand and waving it gently, surrounding dense fog enveloped him, making his figure blurry, eventually merging with the surroundings.

The wizard tapped the nearby tree stump with his magic wand, transforming it into a tall, soft chair, then lifted his cloak to reveal a baby with a snake-like face.

The baby hugged the wizard’s neck with thin arms, now placed on a chair as tall as the wizard. Several flames appeared nearby, turning the surroundings warm.

The serpent enjoyed the heat, climbed around the chair, finally resting its head on the armrest, flicking its tongue gently.

”Master.” The wizard looked down and said: ”Down the hill is the Muggle manor.”

The baby opened its narrow eyes, revealing blood-red pupils. Its feeble hands rested on its own belly, one hand holding a magic wand almost as long as its body.

”Wait,” the baby said coldly and sharply, ”Today we might witness quite the show.”

”Yes.”

The wizard turned his head, under the cloak was a pale, gaunt face, soft yellow hair hanging over the forehead, freckles on the face with an androgynous beauty that suggested he was in his thirties.

”How’s your father recently? Still looking for you, Barty?”

The baby—Voldemort, inquired softly.

It sounded like ordinary small talk, but from his mouth carried an indescribable danger.

Barty Crouch Jr.’s face involuntarily showed a look of disgust, he frowned and said: ”No, he’s already returned to work, recently very busy——”