Chapter 80: First Encounter with the Black Lord [Launch Chapter, Request First Subscription!!!]

BOOM! The great hall doors burst open as Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, rushed in, pale and frantic.

This scene felt familiar to Chu Yang.

“A troll! There’s a troll in the dungeon!” he screamed, then collapsed straight onto the floor.

The hall fell silent for about two seconds, then erupted in a chorus of terrified screams as students fled in panic.

“Silence!”

Dumbledore rose from his seat, his commanding presence restoring calm to the frightened students.

He spoke slowly: “Prefects, escort your housemates back to their dormitories. Teachers, come with me to deal with the troll.”

Under Dumbledore’s orders, the students exited the hall in orderly fashion.

Before leaving, Chu Yang deliberately studied Quirrell, who lay sprawled on the floor pretending to be unconscious.

I have to say, this guy's acting is excellent.

No one in the hall suspected his cowardice or weakness.

To gain experience in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Quirrell deliberately abandoned his teaching post at Hogwarts and traveled to dangerous regions.

From this alone, Quirrell was not cowardly.

But unfortunately, during that journey, he encountered Voldemort’s fragmented soul.

Quirrell could not resist Voldemort’s temptation and ultimately joined him.

Quirrell became Voldemort’s temporary Horcrux, bringing him back to Hogwarts and stealing the Philosopher’s Stone to restore his body.

He failed—and lost his life in the attempt.

In Chu Yang’s view, Quirrell was a pitiful man.

Had he never met Voldemort, he might have become a beloved teacher.

Someone once said that if Quirrell’s will had been strong enough, he would never have ended up like this.

But how many could have held firm against the Black Lord’s seduction? Chu Yang glanced at him with pity.

Quirrell planned to use the troll to create chaos, then sneak into the third-floor chamber to steal the Philosopher’s Stone.

But a fearsome three-headed dog guarded it—he was doomed to fail.

For safety, Chu Yang quietly followed Quirrell as he moved.

On the way to the dungeon, Dumbledore sensed something amiss and told the teachers to handle the troll while he returned alone.

No one thought Dumbledore would flee from a troll—he must have sensed something far more urgent.

When Dumbledore reached the chamber, Quirrell had already fled, unable to breach the three-headed dog’s defense—but Dumbledore noticed subtle traces on the scene and instantly grew alert.

“Headmaster Dumbledore, I just saw Professor Quirrell come out from inside.”

Chu Yang stepped out from the shadows, nearly giving Dumbledore a heart attack.

After composing himself, he demanded: “Are Itachi certain it was Professor Quirrell?”

“Yes,” Chu Yang explained. “I left late and noticed Quirrell, who should’ve been unconscious, vanished the moment Itachi left. His movements were suspicious, so I followed him here.”

“After he entered, there was a great commotion inside—he seemed driven out by something…”

At this, Dumbledore’s expression grew complex. Since Quirrell’s return, he’d sensed something off about him but hadn’t taken it seriously.

Combined with Chu Yang’s words, Dumbledore could now guess Quirrell’s sudden change was due to Voldemort’s influence.

Thinking of Quirrell as his former student, Dumbledore felt a pang of sorrow.

But he quickly regained composure, fixing Chu Yang with a gaze filled with quiet approval.

Chu Yang had not only noticed Quirrell’s anomaly but had also monitored his actions without alerting him—his psychological resilience and personal ability were exceptional.

Over these months, Dumbledore had almost grown accustomed to Chu Yang’s astonishing displays—he’d nearly forgotten Chu Yang was merely a backup to the future Savior, Harry Potter.

Chu Yang asked: “Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Quirrell seems… off?”

“He’s encountered some difficulties.”

Dumbledore replied casually, hesitating whether to tell Chu Yang about Voldemort.

Chu Yang had performed so brilliantly that Dumbledore had nearly abandoned his usual manipulative guidance—he wanted to speak plainly, offer something real.

But Chu Yang beat him to it, bowing slightly: “If so, I trust Itachi’ll handle it properly.”

Please, I’ll occasionally make my presence known—but Itachi really expect me to fight Voldemort for Itachi?

Chu Yang couldn’t help muttering to himself—he’d only ever consider secretly destroying one or two Horcruxes. Facing Voldemort head-on? Not a chance.

Before Dumbledore could react, Chu Yang stepped onto the spiral staircase and vanished from sight.

Meanwhile, the failed thief Quirrell quietly returned to the dungeon.

He feigned having just awakened before the others.

The troll wasn’t particularly strong—at least not against McGonagall and Flitwick.

One was Hogwarts’ Deputy Headmistress, the other a former Dueling Champion; even a dozen trolls would be no match.

Quirrell didn’t need to do anything—just stand by and scream.

Maintain his cowardly, weak persona.

McGonagall and Flitwick each cast a single Petrification Charm and subdued the troll instantly.

“A splendid Petrification Charm.”

Pale-faced Quirrell applauded weakly, his voice hollow.

McGonagall shook her head in exasperation, too tired to speak to him, and turned away.

Flitwick followed closely behind; both left the dungeon together.

Quirrell narrowed his eyes, glaring bitterly at their retreating backs—then Voldemort’s voice whispered in his ear.

“I need…”

Chu Yang did not return to his dormitory. Instead, while Quirrell was in the dungeon, he slipped out of the school and headed for the Forbidden Forest.

Since moving the Whomping Willow there, Chu Yang hadn’t seen it much—he wondered how it had grown.

Hagrid was still patrolling, so Chu Yang avoided the path through the grounds and took a longer detour.

The winter night was eerily quiet; only the crunch of snow beneath his feet broke the silence.

Honestly, it was unsettling.

Had Chu Yang not possessed Kenbunshoku Haki, which negated the darkness’s interference with his senses, he’d never have ventured out at night.

Suddenly, a cold wind swept past, raising goosebumps on the back of his neck—he instinctively scanned the surroundings, sensing unseen eyes watching him.

Kenbunshoku Haki detected no unusual aura—but his sixth sense screamed danger.

The next instant, a terrified, piercing scream echoed through the Forbidden Forest!

“What was that?!” Chu Yang whirled around, staring toward the sound—but darkness swallowed everything.

The cry sounded like a horse, but clearer, sharper.

Though danger prickled his skin, Chu Yang decided to investigate—the cry lingered in his mind, as if pleading for his help.

Chu Yang leapt onto a thick branch with minimal effort, then moved between the trees like a rabbit darting and a duck taking flight, displaying the grace of a Hidden Leaf ninja.

Any observer would have been left gaping.

Along the way, Chu Yang heard several more mournful cries—he pushed his speed even further.

Finally, at the center of the Forbidden Forest, beside a lake, he saw a cloaked shadow—and a unicorn, drenched in blood.

The unicorn still fought desperately.

But excessive blood loss had crippled its mobility.

The mysterious figure attacking it—Chu Yang knew it all too well.

Professor Quirrell!

Or rather, Voldemort—the soul fragment without a body, forced to possess another.

Quirrell was merely a temporary vessel.

“What bad luck…” Chu Yang had just been thinking of avoiding Voldemort—and now he’d stumbled right into him. Fate was cruel.

The unicorn let out another mournful cry, halting Chu Yang’s steps as he prepared to leave.

Since he’d seen it, he couldn’t just watch the unicorn die.

He disliked trouble and avoided conflict—but that didn’t mean he feared it.

“Tch. No classes today, and I didn’t even bring my wand.”

Chu Yang clenched his fists, knuckles cracking; after a brief warm-up, he sneered: “Guess I’m playing Druid again…”

He pressed his palms against the snow—his chakra erupted in an endless surge.

“Wood Release: Tree Boundary!”

Between the unicorn and Quirrell, a wall of trees and vines erupted from the ground, severing them completely.

The sudden attack startled Quirrell—he recoiled, dodging the towering green growth.

The unicorn let out a cry, its hooves pounding the ground as it fled deeper into the Forbidden Forest.

Voldemort, barely clinging to life on the unicorn’s blood, roared in fury: “Who dares stop me?!!!”

Hearing his master’s rage, Quirrell trembled with fear and anger—he turned and saw a boy in a wizard’s robe standing across the lake.

Both Voldemort and Quirrell were stunned—how had a boy appeared in the Forbidden Forest? It was deep night, pitch black, no lanterns, no light—Quirrell couldn’t make out Chu Yang’s face.

He could only judge the figure was a boy by his build.

To prevent Voldemort from playing dirty, Chu Yang avoided close combat and prepared to fight Quirrell at range using Wood Release.

Across the lake, they faced each other—unable to see each other’s faces, yet a chilling tension spread between them.

Quirrell’s cloak billowed—he floated ghostlike through the air, like a specter from a horror tale, lunging at Chu Yang.

“Too slow.”

If it were the Body Flicker Technique, Chu Yang might have been more cautious.

But drifting over so slowly like that? Maybe good for scaring children, but trying to use it against Chu Yang is outright disrespectful.

Before Quirrell could close the distance, Chu Yang rapidly formed hand seals—his arms suddenly swelled, and thick wooden vines erupted from them, lashing toward Quirrell in midair.

【Wood Release: Great Forest Technique】

Quirrell, completely unprepared, was struck squarely by the massive trunks.

His vision went black as he tumbled from the air into the icy lake.

In truth, Quirrell had been alert to Chu Yang’s casting motions—but seeing the boy repeatedly fail to produce a wand, he assumed the teenager was paralyzed by fear, and thus unconsciously lowered his guard.

The result? As expected, he fell right into the trap.

Though thrashing Voldemort felt great, destroying the Horcruxes was the only way to kill him—he was merely doing this to annoy the old bastard.

The lake rippled, but after waiting a long while and seeing no sign of Professor Quirrell emerging, Chu Yang stepped forward and used Kenbunshoku to sense the aura beneath the water.

Nothing…

Quirrell had already used a spell to escape.

Chu Yang scanned the lake’s edge with Kenbunshoku for a while.

Once certain Voldemort and Quirrell had left, he followed the unicorn’s blood trail deep into the Forbidden Forest.

If he couldn’t find it in time, the unicorn would surely die from blood loss.

And all of Chu Yang’s efforts would become meaningless.

Fortunately, the unicorn hadn’t run far before collapsing exhausted beneath a massive tree. Chu Yang approached, examined its wounds, and began healing it.

Compared to using Wood Release chakra alone, the mixed natural magic proved far more effective in healing magical creatures.

To pull the unicorn back from death’s edge, Chu Yang expended a vast quantity of natural magic—the residual leakage even affected the land beneath his feet.

Around the area where the unicorn lay, flowers slowly bloomed; nearby creatures, sensing the surge of life energy, instinctively drew closer.

Firenze, the centaur patrolling the Forbidden Forest, also felt this unusual power and swiftly moved toward its source.

The centaur tribe within the Forbidden Forest held no fondness for humans—especially wizards.

But Firenze was an outlier; he harbored considerable curiosity toward humans.

Firenze’s upper body was human: golden hair, blue eyes, strikingly handsome; his lower half was a horse, with silver mane that shimmered like a meteor as he moved through the night.

When Firenze arrived, he immediately saw Chu Yang tending to the wounded unicorn.

Vast amounts of natural magic radiated outward, emitting a green luminescence symbolizing life, while flowers and vegetation bloomed all around.

Firenze’s sapphire eyes widened in shock.

This sacred scene struck Firenze with an indescribable force—he instinctively knelt halfway to the ground, bowing in reverence before a divine miracle.

The unicorn, whose life force had flickered like a candle in the wind, reignited under Chu Yang’s aid. It let out a joyful, prolonged cry and slowly rose to its feet.

“Phew…” Chu Yang collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath—he’d never felt so utterly drained before.

The unicorn lowered its head, gently nuzzling Chu Yang’s pale face; its pure white body glowed softly, holy and beautiful.

“Sir, Itachi have saved the unicorn’s life. Allow me, on behalf of the forest, to thank Itachi. From now on, your life shall forever be blessed by the forest.”

Firenze stepped forward with small, measured strides, bowed slightly, his tone filled with reverence: “Itachi are in poor condition—may I carry Itachi to a safe place?”

By “safe place,” Firenze meant Hogwarts—he could tell from Chu Yang’s attire that he was a student there.

“Then I’d be grateful for your help,” Chu Yang murmured, nodding weakly—he felt as limp as mud.

As Firenze bent to lift Chu Yang, the unicorn thrust its head forward and shoved him aside, nuzzling Chu Yang’s body insistently.

“Looks like the unicorn wants to carry Itachi back itself!” Firenze marveled. “Normally, unicorns only allow pure maidens to ride them—I’ve never seen one willingly let a boy mount it…”

Hearing this, Chu Yang felt oddly uneasy—but the unicorn clearly insisted, and he couldn’t refuse.

“Shall I help Itachi up?” Firenze asked gently, like a gentleman.

“No, no—just help me stand.”

Chu Yang shuddered, waving his hands frantically—Firenze’s words had already made the straight-laced him feel distinctly uncomfortable.

Firenze helped Chu Yang up; the latter struggled onto the unicorn’s back and immediately felt the smoothness of its fur.

Merely lying on its back, Chu Yang nearly fell asleep from comfort.

Under the moonlight, Firenze led the way ahead; the unicorn carried Chu Yang behind. Even creatures lurking in the forest dared not stir.

“Mr. Chu Yang, if Itachi ever wish to return to the Forbidden Forest, simply blow on this leaf—day or night, I will come to Itachi as quickly as possible.” Firenze turned and handed Chu Yang a leaf.

The leaf’s veins were clear, its entire surface a vibrant green—clearly a magical artifact.

“Thank Itachi.” Chu Yang accepted Firenze’s gift, curious why the centaur treated him so kindly—was it truly just because he saved the unicorn’s life? Was the relationship between their races really that good? Carrying these questions, Chu Yang met Hagrid on the path through the Quidditch pitch—the man dropped his lantern in shock upon seeing Chu Yang riding the unicorn.

“Merlin’s beard, I must be too tired—I’m hallucinating.” Hagrid muttered with his eyes shut, then opened them again to find Chu Yang already riding the unicorn before him. “A unicorn… letting a male ride it…” Hagrid stared in disbelief—he’d never in all these years seen a unicorn break this rule.

“Hey, Hagrid.” Firenze greeted him casually—they often patrolled the Forbidden Forest together and were no strangers.

“Firenze? What are Itachi doing here?” Hagrid, now fully awake, realized how bizarre this trio looked.

A human wizard, a unicorn, and a centaur…

“Someone has been hunting unicorns in the Forbidden Forest. Fortunately, Mr. Chu Yang arrived in time…” Firenze recounted what he knew, though he hadn’t seen the perpetrator—only that the attacker was deeply evil.

“I must report this to Headmaster Dumbledore,” Hagrid realized the gravity of the situation. He turned to leave, then remembered Chu Yang and asked: “And why were Itachi sneaking into the Forbidden Forest? That’s punishable.”

Chu Yang murmured: “I came to see the Whomping Willow.”

Hagrid nodded in understanding and explained: “It’s cold now—the Whomping Willow is hibernating near the Quidditch pitch, not here.”

“Hibernating?” Chu Yang was stunned—he’d never heard of magical plants hibernating.

“Not true hibernation—just much less active. It’s always like this at Hogwarts, but if Itachi get too close, Itachi’ll wake it up—and then it throws a massive tantrum.”

Hagrid emphasized the last part—he’d just witnessed it recently, and the scene had been truly shocking.

“Then let it rest.”

Chu Yang had barely finished speaking when he sneezed.

With his magic nearly depleted, his cold resistance had temporarily weakened.

“We should get Mr. Chu Yang back to school immediately—out here in this cold, he’ll catch a chill.”

Firenze had no time to spare for Hagrid—he reared up as if to bolt, but the unicorn was faster, already racing toward the school without pause.

Hagrid blinked, then sprinted after them.

They were close enough now to see Hogwarts standing atop the cliff.

After delivering Chu Yang to the school, the unicorn and Firenze vanished into the forest surrounding the castle.

Hagrid, arriving late, didn’t care about disturbing Dumbledore—he hoisted Chu Yang onto his shoulders and ran straight to the Headmaster’s chambers.

Deep in the night, Dumbledore was pulled from bed by frantic knocking.

When he opened the door, he saw Hagrid, covered in snow and wind, with Chu Yang slumped over his shoulder.

“After months of peace, I almost forgot your talent for stirring up trouble. Speak—what happened? I can handle it.”

Anticipating something major, Dumbledore calmly wiped his glasses and sighed wearily.

Chu Yang “Oh”ed, then said calmly: “I accidentally ran into Voldemort.”

Dumbledore froze mid-wipe; Hagrid stood stunned, both staring blankly at Chu Yang.

“Itachi didn’t mention that to me!” Hagrid swallowed hard, sweat pouring down his face. “The mysterious killer Firenze described… was Voldemort?”

Dumbledore’s face darkened. “Hagrid, what exactly happened?”

Hagrid repeated Firenze’s account.

“I understand. Hagrid, go back. Remember—tell no one else.” Dumbledore’s voice sounded weary.

“Yes, I swear.” Hagrid didn’t wish to disturb Dumbledore further and quietly withdrew.

Dumbledore asked: “Chu Yang, the Voldemort Itachi encountered—was it Professor Quirrell?”

Chu Yang nodded, then asked: “Headmaster, Itachi asked Hagrid to leave—because Itachi don’t want others to learn of Quirrell’s connection to Voldemort yet?”

“Precisely. I haven’t figured out how to deal with Voldemort’s return.” Dumbledore shook his head. “Forget that for now—how did Itachi escape Voldemort? Oh, was it Firenze who saved Itachi?”

“Yes.” Chu Yang decided to let this beautiful misunderstanding continue.

“Itachi’re lucky—but luck won’t save Itachi every time Itachi’re in danger!”

Dumbledore, rarely angry, spoke sharply: “Had I not feared panic spreading, Slytherin would have lost fifty points for your recklessness!”

“I’m sorry, Headmaster Dumbledore.” Chu Yang smiled awkwardly—fifty points was no small matter; he might never earn them back in a whole year.

Didn’t Itachi just say Itachi could handle it? Why the sudden panic?

Dumbledore dared let Harry Potter face Voldemort because Harry bore the blood protection charm cast by his mother’s sacrifice.

As long as Harry remained underage, Voldemort could not harm him.

But Chu Yang had no such protection.

In Dumbledore’s eyes, even any moderately famous Death Eater could threaten Chu Yang—Chu Yang, still unformed, must not be exposed to Voldemort prematurely.

Thus, after deep consideration, Dumbledore made a rare decision.

“Mr. Chu Yang, the school has decided to grant Itachi an extended holiday, beginning tomorrow, lasting until Christmas.” Dumbledore gazed at Chu Yang with regret—he, as Headmaster, felt he had failed to ensure student safety within Hogwarts.

“Until Christmas?” Chu Yang was baffled—he’d just received permission to enter the Restricted Section! “Yes,” Dumbledore smiled. “Given your progress, missing over a month of classes won’t affect Itachi.”

Dumbledore fell silent, then sighed: “This is for your safety. A talented Slytherin like Itachi? Voldemort won’t let Itachi go. When he comes for Itachi again, Itachi’ll have only two choices: become his Death Eater—or die.”

Actually, neither—he’d just beat Voldemort senseless…

Chu Yang wanted to say it—but Dumbledore would surely think him insane, so he agreed to the arrangement.

Not only Chu Yang suffered—the Quirrell struck by Wood Release did too.

The power of Wood Release was undeniable.

That blow had displaced Quirrell’s internal organs.

Without exaggeration, he’d lost half his life—if he hadn’t fled fast, Voldemort would’ve had to find a new temporary vessel right there.

Even if he barely escaped, it would take at least a month before he recovered.

Thus, Quirrell could hardly continue teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts—whether or not Dumbledore had discovered his identity, Voldemort did not want him appearing before others anymore.

That night, Quirrell vanished silently from Hogwarts.

The next day, Dumbledore, upon hearing the news, felt no relief at Quirrell’s disappearance; he knew Voldemort would not leave Hogwarts so easily without the Philosopher’s Stone.

They must be hiding somewhere within the castle.

This thousand-year-old castle held too many secrets—even Dumbledore could not uncover them all.

If Voldemort chose to hide, it would be difficult for him to find the man.

The now-hidden Voldemort and Quirrell had become far more dangerous; Chu Yang’s immediate departure from Hogwarts was urgent.

Before leaving, with Dumbledore’s permission, Chu Yang returned to the Forbidden Forest and easily found the Whomping Willow; after months apart, its massive body had grown even taller, like an ancient tree that had stood for a thousand years.

After channeling some natural magic into it, the Whomping Willow slowly settled down, like a child full and sleepy.

Chu Yang left it alone, took out the leaf given to him by Firenze, placed it to his lips, and blew to summon the centaur.

The unique melody echoed through the Forbidden Forest; soon, hoofbeats came from its depths.

Firenze, with a face nearly perfect, leapt forward and stood tall beside Chu Yang, smiling: “Respected Mr. Chu Yang, we meet again.”

Chu Yang got straight to the point: “I need your help with something.”

Firenze bowed slightly and said sincerely: “Speak. Within my ability, I will fulfill your request.”

Just as Chu Yang was about to speak, the sleeping Whomping Willow, sensing Firenze’s aura, suddenly awoke.

The awakening of this colossal being shook the ground violently, as if the entire Forbidden Forest might collapse.

The Whomping Willow lashed out with branches as hard as steel whips, striking Firenze.

It assumed Firenze posed a threat to Chu Yang—and instinctively attacked!

Firenze, caught off guard, was struck and flew out of Chu Yang’s sight.

Chu Yang looked up, furious: “Itachi idiot, why do Itachi always hit your own side?!”

The mighty Whomping Willow shuddered violently; Chu Yang’s shout made it instantly realize its mistake. It quickly retracted all its branches and curled up like a guilty child.

“Firenze, are Itachi alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine—just a bit sore. My ribs might be broken…”

Firenze limped back, smiling wryly. Chu Yang hurried forward, cast a spell to reset the broken ribs, then healed his wounds with natural magic.

Feeling this immense power, Firenze trembled with excitement, his gaze toward Chu Yang growing even more reverent; to him, Chu Yang’s natural magic was the highest blessing from Mother Nature herself.

Had he not feared frightening Chu Yang, Firenze might have knelt right there and sworn loyalty to this young wizard of Eastern blood.

“Is that the legendary War Tree?” Firenze gazed up at the majestic Whomping Willow, murmuring: “When I was young, elders in my tribe spoke of these immensely powerful magical creatures—they were guardians of nature, but now they’ve vanished, leaving only a few treants still active in the forests…”

Chu Yang snorted. “That’s not a War Tree at all—not even a treant guardian. It’s just an ordinary Whomping Willow!”

Firenze blinked, then smiled wryly: “My experience isn’t vast, but I’ve never heard of a Whomping Willow growing this large.”

Chu Yang looked up at the Whomping Willow, towering like a sky-piercing pillar.

Alright.

I take back “ordinary.”

“The Dark Lord might return to the Forbidden Forest to hunt unicorns,” Chu Yang said, pointing at the withdrawn Whomping Willow. “I called Itachi here hoping Itachi can protect the unicorn herd together with it.”

Firenze immediately nodded:

“No problem. Since last night, I’ve been patrolling the Forbidden Forest.”

“Then I’m counting on Itachi,” Chu Yang smiled. “This thing’s a bit dumb—Itachi’ll have to keep an eye on it for me.”

After tending to the Whomping Willow, Chu Yang left the Forbidden Forest and went to Hagrid’s hut, where Dumbledore was discussing matters with Hagrid.

Seeing Chu Yang enter, Dumbledore showed no surprise—he seemed to have known Chu Yang had visited the Forbidden Forest.

“Professor Dumbledore, before I leave, may I ask Itachi for a favor?” Chu Yang looked directly at him.

“What is it?” Dumbledore did not immediately agree, asking cautiously—he was genuinely wary of Chu Yang’s knack for stirring up trouble.

“I want to learn Apparition,” Chu Yang met his gaze. “Given my current situation, I believe mastering this spell will make me safer.”

Dumbledore paused, then warned: “This spell is restricted to students aged seventeen and above. Do Itachi know why?”

Chu Yang nodded. “Apparition places great strain on the body and demands intense mental focus. A moment’s lapse can lead to life-threatening accidents.”

Dumbledore said: “Young wizards like Itachi usually cannot control their thoughts well. If, during the transition, your intention to reach a destination isn’t firm enough, the spell may break—but worse, your body may split apart.”

“In other words, splinching,” Chu Yang picked up the thread, solemnly stating: “Professor Dumbledore, I’ve fully understood the dangers of this spell.”

Hagrid urged: “Chu Yang, Itachi’re still too young. Wait a few years. Only fifth-year students or above are usually permitted to learn Apparition.”

“No, Hagrid—he has the ability to learn this spell,” Dumbledore gazed deeply at Chu Yang. “Since Itachi understand the risks, I respect your decision.”

Thus, Dumbledore began teaching Chu Yang Apparition in Hagrid’s hut.

Hagrid wisely stepped out, leaving the cramped space to them.

“Remember: destination, determination, composure. Fix your target firmly in mind, concentrate fully, and feel the changes in your body. Let’s start with something close.”

Outside, Hagrid listened to Dumbledore’s voice, his thoughts drifting back to his own school days—back then, Dumbledore had guided students through Transfiguration with the same patient instruction.

Moments later, a figure suddenly appeared, interrupting Hagrid’s memories.

Hagrid stared at Chu Yang, surprised: “Itachi didn’t walk out of the hut, did Itachi? How do Itachi feel? First-timers always get dizzy…”

Chu Yang, expression calm, shook his head. His physique made Apparition no more uncomfortable than a breath.

“Genius is genius,” Hagrid said enviously. “Normal people spend ages learning this—Itachi did it in ten minutes.”

“It’s just from inside the hut to outside—it’s not hard,” Chu Yang smiled. “Praise me when I can Apparate straight from London back to school.”

Apparition was forbidden within Hogwarts, so normally, one could only move to locations near the school as anchors.

The door creaked open as Dumbledore stepped out slowly. “Itachi’ve grasped the basics. Try going to Diagon Alley. I’ll be watching.”

Hearing this, Chu Yang immediately Apparated before Dumbledore’s eyes. He pictured Ollivander’s wand shop clearly; the space around him twisted, and invisible pressure surged from all sides.

Soon, the pressure vanished. When Chu Yang opened his eyes, he stood inside the wand shop—Mr. Ollivander was arranging shelves.

The next instant, Dumbledore appeared beside Chu Yang, smiling softly: “Itachi didn’t plan to return to London, did Itachi? Itachi wanted to become an apprentice here?”

Chu Yang stared at him, thinking: “Old men are cunning—this man guessed it right away!”

“Actually, that’s fine,” Dumbledore nodded. “Then stay here with Mr. Ollivander. I’m sure he’ll take good care of Itachi.”

At that moment, Ollivander emerged, hearing the voices.

He stared, astonished, at Dumbledore and Chu Yang.

“What’s happened?” Ollivander asked curiously.

Neither Dumbledore nor Chu Yang should have been here at this hour.

Dumbledore smiled. “Nothing. Chu Yang is taking an early holiday. Itachi wanted him as your apprentice, didn’t Itachi? Perfect—he’ll learn from Itachi.”

Ollivander studied Dumbledore deeply; the old wizard’s piercing gaze seemed to speak volumes. Then he nodded. “I’m glad he’ll come. I’ll take good care of him.”

“Thank Itachi,” Dumbledore said, then bent to whisper in Chu Yang’s ear: “Stay here. Don’t come back with me. I’ll have your belongings sent here.”

With that, Dumbledore Apparated away.

Thus, Chu Yang became the first new student to leave school since term began. His early holiday filled classmates’ eyes with envy.

But soon after Chu Yang’s departure, rumors spread through the school.

Some said he was expelled for breaking school rules.

Others claimed he had offended someone untouchable.

Hermione, Ron, Harry, Neville, and others close to Chu Yang grew deeply worried.

Some rejoiced; others grieved.

Draco Malfoy welcomed his first “spring” at Hogwarts.

Without Chu Yang, he could finally stand tall, look down on others with his family’s status, and no longer fear his father’s pressure—he quickly adopted the arrogant attitude of “the world is mine.”

Draco not only moved boldly into Chu Yang’s dormitory but also began targeting students who had been close to Chu Yang.

When rumors reached every corner of Hogwarts, Dumbledore offered no explanation for Chu Yang’s departure.

After leaving school, Chu Yang took up apprenticeship duties at the wand shop.

He learned systematically from Ollivander how to craft wands.

Life as a wand apprentice was much like studying at school—similar schedule, the only difference being Chu Yang lost access to the school’s free books.

Directly across from the shop stood Flourish and Blotts; Chu Yang could buy any book he wanted. Though its collection wasn’t as vast as the school library, all essential textbooks were present.

Before the holiday ended, Chu Yang had to master every step of wand-making and identify substitute materials so his “selves” from other worlds could successfully craft wands.

Chu Yang chose Ollivander as his wand-making teacher not only because Ollivander was one of the world’s greatest wandmakers.

But because Ollivander was a relentless innovator, constantly improving wandcraft—and even overturning traditional wizarding views on wands.

This aligned perfectly with Chu Yang; both despised outdated, decaying traditions.

Before Ollivander, nearly all wandmakers crafted wands according to the customer’s preference—no notion of “suitability” existed.

It was Ollivander who established the bond between wand and wizard.

(End of Chapter)