bacchusnovels Chapter 157 The Arrangement of Fate
Chapter 157 The Arrangement of Fate
Chapter 157 The Arrangement of Fate
"Because your soul does not belong to this world..."
These words struck Sean like a bolt from the blue, instantly piercing his heart.
He felt a strange fear rise from the soles of his feet and rush to the top of his head.
He stood rooted to the spot, staring blankly at Helga who had spoken those words, his lips trembling slightly, unable to utter a single word.
Being a time traveler... is his biggest secret.
He kept it a secret very carefully, not daring to let anyone know.
However, now that Helga has revealed this secret, he feels an unprecedented sense of panic.
"What...does this mean?" Sean's Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed and asked cautiously.
At this moment, perhaps playing dumb is the best option.
Helga looked at Sean, a deep light flashing in her eyes. "Phillips, there is no absolute secret in this world."
A chill ran through Sean; he didn't know what the consequences would be if he were exposed.
He stared intently at Helga, trying to glean some clues from her expression.
However, Helga's next words put Sean's mind at ease again.
"Don't worry, Phillips." Helga noticed Sean's nervousness and gently comforted him. "Your presence here is also a matter of fate."
Sean took a deep breath, his heart filled with mixed emotions.
This was the umpteenth time he had heard the words "fate's arrangement" today.
He had never given much thought to such mysterious things as fate, but at this moment, he could not deny that he seemed to be in a huge vortex of fate. He even began to wonder if he was really being pulled by some irresistible destiny.
Are all these coincidences predetermined?
This is a huge, philosophical question, and such a question is clearly not suitable for consideration in this context.
"Fate is like an invisible hand, always gently pushing us at crucial moments, guiding us toward the unknown path," Helga murmured to herself, her eyes deep, as if she could see into the depths of fate.
She looked at Sean again, her eyes shining with a warm and firm light, and said to him, "Phillips, we each have a different destiny."
"Hufflepuff, I..." he began, but then didn't know what to say.
Helga chuckled softly. "Phillips, we can't completely control fate, but we can choose how to face it."
"Your existence, your arrival, is what this world needs. So don't be afraid, bravely embrace your destiny, something you cannot escape."
Sean was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded. "I understand, Ms. Hufflepuff. Thank you."
The sudden change in scenery filled Sean with surprise, but he quickly suppressed it.
He realized that the world was far more mysterious and vast than he had imagined, and that he had only scratched the surface.
Sean stood up, straightened his clothes, picked up three items from the table, and looked at Helga with a determined gaze. "Hufflepuff lady, thank you for your guidance and care today. I will remember your words and bravely face my destiny."
Helga smiled and nodded. "Go, Phillips. Your journey has only just begun; countless challenges and miracles await you. Remember, no matter what difficulties you encounter, never give up, believe in yourself."
I also believe in the guidance of fate.
Sean bowed deeply, then turned and left.
But... he suddenly remembered something when he stepped out of the cabin's perimeter.
How is he supposed to get back...?
As soon as this thought crossed his mind, a hole suddenly appeared in front of him, just the same size as the tree hole he had just entered.
He stepped into the cave entrance and instantly felt his body enveloped by a powerful force, making everything around him blurry.
When Sean opened his eyes again, he was back in the Forbidden Forest.
Dawn was breaking, and the soft morning light filtered through the treetops, casting a warm glow on Sean. He looked around; the Forbidden Forest was shrouded in the morning mist, appearing and disappearing as if in a dream.
Sean stood there, a feeling he couldn't quite put into words welling up inside him.
He recalled his conversation with Helga the previous night and that wonderful journey, feeling as if he had experienced a dream.
However, the Hufflepuff's golden cup in his arms, its surface shrouded in magical runes, reminded him that it was all real.
When he returned to his office, Bella was still in bed, not yet up. Hearing Sean's footsteps, she merely rolled over lazily and continued to drift off into a sweet dream.
Sean chuckled softly, not disturbing her, but carefully walked to the desk and gently placed the Hufflepuff's golden cup down.
Then, he sat down at his desk, leaned forward slightly, and focused his deep gaze on the spotless white draft paper in front of him.
The quill pen in his hand hovered gently above the ink bottle, as if drawing inspiration and power from a wellspring of energy.
The pen tip finally fell, leaving a series of clear characters on the paper.
He wrote: "What is fate?"
This problem seems simple, but it contains endless depth and complexity.
He paused, pondered for a moment, and then continued writing.
"In the world of Harry Potter, fatalism seems to be a constant theme."
For Harry and Voldemort, their fates were sealed the moment Riddle heard that half-prophecy.
For Dumbledore and the two generations of Dark Lords, the gears of fate began to turn when he and Grindelwald clashed.
The process had already begun quietly when they found Riddle at the Muggle orphanage.
Fate is like countless intricate threads, tightly binding everyone together. But these threads didn't arise without reason; tracing them back to their origins reveals the very beginning.
Sean put down his pen halfway through writing.
He wondered, if that's the case, then where does his origin lie?
Three flowers bloom, each representing a different aspect.
Meanwhile, an unexpected guest arrived at Malfoy Estate.
Lucius Malfoy, his brows furrowed and face full of surprise, looked at the disguised man before him and asked, "Minister Fudge, what brings you here?"
Minister Fudge dropped his disguise, revealing his characteristic slick and worldly smile. "Lucius, I need your help."
Lucius was startled, but quickly regained his composure.
He gracefully invited Fudge into the living room and gestured for the house-elf Dobby to prepare tea. "Minister, what brings you here in person?"
Fudge looked around to make sure no one else was around, then said in a low voice, "I think it's time to start the plan." Lucius's expression changed slightly, but he quickly masked it, "What...?"
"We're running out of time," Fudge interrupted Lucius impatiently.
Lucius took a deep breath. He knew the importance of the plan and the role he would be playing. "I understand, Minister. I will provide support to the best of my ability."
Minister Fudge smiled with satisfaction. "I knew you wouldn't let me down, Lucius. If this plan succeeds, it will have a profound impact on the entire wizarding world. We will be able to restore order and put everything back on track."
Lucius nodded, his heart filled with determination. "I will get started immediately and make sure everything goes according to plan."
The two smiled at each other, unaware that a pair of eyes on the second floor were watching them intently.
Three flowers bloom, and then another branch is mentioned.
As the three little ones stepped out of the Transfiguration classroom, an angry roar suddenly came from upstairs, startling them. "That's Filch," Hermione whispered, recognizing the owner of the voice.
They rushed up the stairs, hid in the shadows, and listened intently.
"Do you think someone else might be attacked?" Ron asked nervously.
They stood in silence, craning their necks toward the direction of Filch's voice, a voice filled with rage and despair.
"...Here we go again, causing me trouble! I've been mopping the floor all night, as if I'm not busy enough!"
No, this is too much, I have to go find Dumbledore—”
As Filch's footsteps faded into the distance, they heard a heavy slam of a door closing in the distance.
They cautiously peeked out from around the corner. Filch was clearly on guard duty at his regular post.
They returned to the location where Mrs. Lorris was attacked.
They immediately understood the reason for Filch's roar—half of the corridor was flooded, and water was still seeping out from under the door of the weeping Myrtle's washroom.
At this moment, Filch's roar had stopped, replaced by Myrtle's sobbing echoing from the bathroom. "What's wrong with her now?" Ron asked, puzzled.
"Let's go take a look," Hermione decided.
So they lifted their robes, waded through the puddles, and headed toward the door with the "Out of Service" sign.
As usual, they ignored the notice and pushed the door open and went straight in.
The weeping of Myrtle was louder and more mournful than ever before, it was almost unbelievable.
She seemed to have retreated back to her usual toilet.
The bathroom was dark, as the overflowing water had extinguished the candles, and the walls and floor were wet.
"Myrtle, what happened?" Hermione asked with concern.
"Who are you?" Myrtle asked pitifully in her gurgling voice, "Trying to hit me with something again?"
Hermione waded through the water to her cubicle and soothed her, "Why would I hit you?"
"Don't ask me," Myrtle suddenly appeared, spraying an even larger stream of water onto the already soaked floor, "I'm just sitting here peacefully, thinking about my own problems, and someone thinks it's fun to throw stones at me—."
"Even if someone threw something at you, you wouldn't feel any pain," Ron pointed out rationally. "I mean, it would just go right through you, wouldn't it?"
But Ron's words were clearly inappropriate.
Myrtle immediately puffed up and shrieked, "Let everyone throw stones at Myrtle! She can't feel any pain anyway! If you hit her in the stomach, you get ten points! If you hit her on the head, you get fifty points! Haha!"
"Okay, that sounds like a fun game, but I don't think so!"
"Then who exactly threw the stone at you?" Hermione pressed.
"I don't know—I was sitting on the toilet, thinking about death, when suddenly a rock hit me on the head." Myrtle glared at them fiercely. "Look, right there."
The three children looked in the direction Peach Blossom Nymph was pointing, and saw a stone lying quietly at the bottom of the pool.
Days passed by, one after another, with the changing seasons and the passage of time.
Now, as the chill of winter gradually fades, the breath of spring begins to permeate the air, and the sun begins to shine faintly on Hogwarts once again.
The golden sunlight streamed through the windows of the ancient castle, illuminating the long corridors and halls, adding warmth and vibrancy to this magical school.
Inside Hogwarts Castle, people's spirits began to rise quietly, presenting an optimistic atmosphere.
Since the bizarre incident where Justin and Nick were nearly petrified, no similar attacks have occurred on campus.
Ms. Pomfrey's face beamed with satisfaction as she announced that the mandrakes had become irritable and taciturn, a sign that they were rapidly shedding their immaturity and moving toward maturity.
"Once their pimples are completely gone, they can be transplanted again," Hermione overheard Mrs. Pomfrey saying gently to Filch one afternoon. "Then, before long, we can harvest them and boil them over a fire. Soon, Mrs. Lorris will be back with us safe and sound."
Many young wizards secretly speculated: Slytherin's heir might have lost the courage to continue committing evil. The entire school was on high alert, constantly suspicious. Trying to open the Chamber of Secrets now would undoubtedly be far more risky. Perhaps the monster—whatever it was—had already quieted down, preparing to enter another fifty-year hibernation…
However, not everyone shares this optimistic view.
Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff remains convinced that Harry was behind the whole affair, believing he "accidentally showed his true colors" at the Dueling Club.
Peeves didn't stop his pranks. He would always suddenly appear in the bustling corridor, loudly singing the tune of "Oh, Potter, you rascal—" accompanied by his signature dance moves, adding a touch of comicality to the tense atmosphere.
Gilderoy Lockhart, on the other hand, seems to regard this series of events as a stage for his heroic performance.
One morning, while Sean was having breakfast in the Great Hall, he overheard him boasting to Professor McGonagall, "I don't think there will be any more trouble, Minerva."
He tapped his nose lightly, a knowing look on his face, and blinked. "I'm convinced this locked room will never be opened. The criminals must have realized I'll catch them sooner or later; it's just a matter of time."
It's wise to give up now before I even start dealing with them.
"You know, the school needs a morale boost right now. We need to erase those unpleasant things from our memories last semester! I can't say more right now, but believe me, I'm confident—" He tapped his nose again and strode away with confident steps.
However, this is only Lockhart's side of the story.
Sean couldn't imagine what activity in the current Hogwarts atmosphere could be more eye-catching than his Plants vs. Zombies and the upcoming Quidditch match.
So, the day before the Quidditch match, Shaun began giving Cho Chang his third Quidditch training session...
(PS: I'm begging for monthly votes. If I get 1000 monthly votes by the end of the month, I'll add 10,000 words. If I get a patron, I'll add 10,000 words. I'll make up for it within 15 days. It's been 21 days since I started writing 10,000 words a day. Please give me lots of support!)
(The books will be on the highway before the end of the month, with the Narcissa route, Cho Chang route, Hermione route, Penelope route, Luna route, Tonks route, and Helena route all opening simultaneously.)