Chapter 2: Hogwarts and Hogwarts

"Ho, Hogwarts?"

Upon hearing the words of the young man before him, Jon was utterly astonished.

On the parchment floating in front of him, the prominent English words at the top read "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Enrolment Notice."

The notice was considerably lengthy, aside for the title, which was in English. The remaining content perplexed Jon as it was written in an unfamiliar language, leaving him unable to comprehend its meaning.

At the bottom of the notice, a school crest adorned the page.

The coat of arms from his memories was vastly different, with the iconic lion, eagle, badger, and snake encircling a large letter "H."

Instead, a single dark green serpent coiled around the letter "H."

Of course, Jon had encountered the Harry Potter series of books and films in his previous life. Just a week before his journey through time, he had watched the first four films twice, and the enchanting tale remained vivid in his memory.

However, what he never expected was that the reality he found himself in was none other than the Wizarding World of Harry Potter!

The parchment hovering before him now and the quill tantalizingly close to his grasp were not mere illusions or conjurations.

Jon, from such proximity, could see that the parchment and quill were not being manipulated by transparent threads or any other contrivances. They simply floated before him in midair!

The attire of the youth clad in black robes, the era he inhabited, the name of the school—Hogwarts—and the manifestation of magic all affirmed to Jon that he had indeed arrived in the world of Harry Potter!

Yet, instead of the expected excitement, he grew increasingly composed, with an unsettling sense of angst welling within his heart.

Why did the Hogwarts school crest fail to match the one etched into his mind?

Why did the method of enrolling new students deviate so starkly from the one described in the original book?

Why was this admission notice inscribed in an incomprehensible language?

Who was this young man in the black robe who had recruited him?

Which professor from Hogwarts did he represent?

While Jon contemplated asking for the man's name, his counterpart preemptively spoke.

"I have made inquiries about your life here, Mr. Green."

His voice possessed a gentle quality, as though he had the patience to clarify the intricacies of the magical school to Jon.

"Over a year ago, an event transpired in your life that eluded comprehension from the Muggles in your vicinity. It signified the awakening of your magical talent.

The Muggles in the orphanage, unable to fathom the existence of magic, fear what they cannot grasp, thus shun you in this manner."

"But once you step foot in Hogwarts, the dynamics shift. You will find kindred spirits there—individuals who share your background and abilities. The faculty members will also instruct you in the art of magic."

"A welcoming feast awaits you upon enrollment, replete with a cozy hall, an array of ever-changing delicacies, benevolent professors, and amiable classmates. Hogwarts Castle shall prove the most fitting destination for you."

The young man's words were devoid of haste, yet Jon couldn't shake the inexplicable sensation of his anxiety, which was so intense that he even forgot to introduce himself.

"Sir, you..."

"Just affix your signature to this notice, Mr. Green. Or do you harbor any reservations about my words?" He said it with a smile.

That smile would have effortlessly won any child's trust, yet his eyes and smile were entirely incongruous. The chill and ennui veiled within were astutely detected by Jon during their initial exchange of gazes.

It was this contrast that left Jon wary.

"No, sir, I have no qualms. It's just..."

"Since you possess no doubts, let us proceed to sign the admission notice. We have other tasks to attend to, such as procuring a wand for you and acquiring school uniforms."

Once more, he interjected Jon's question with a smile on his face, urging him to sign the notice.

The quill had already been placed in Jon's hand. Jon lifted the quill, compelled by the pen's grasp, and poised it above the parchment. However, he still harbored a desire to find out the identity of the young man standing before him, the one tasked with enrolling him into this new world.

"Sir, you haven't..."

"Sign!"

The young man's patience appeared to have reached its limit, and he bellowed abruptly, curtailing Jon's question!

Simultaneously, a brilliant crimson light suddenly streaked forth from behind him, traversing over ten meters in the blink of an eye and striking the young man's back!

Fortunately, an iridescent visage, imbued with a crimson radiance, materialized beside the young man, effectively nullifying the surprise assault. However, in a cruel twist of fate, the visage itself fractured!

The once gentle smile that graced the young man's countenance vanished entirely, replaced by a cold and disdainful expression.

Without hesitation, he withdrew a slender magic wand from his left sleeve and retaliated against the red luminescence, directing his assault toward its source.

"Swoon!"

A parallel crimson beam erupted from the wand's tip. Alas, the spell missed its mark, instead, colliding with the earth in front of the assailant, stirring up a sizeable cloud of dust.

The assailant, a woman adorned with resplendent, cascading dark red locks and vibrant emerald eyes, emerged from the haze. She donned a tattered, ashen-hued robe, her appearance besmirched by dust. Evading the young man's reprisal, she darted through the swirling particles, hurtling toward Jon!

Yet, when she drew within a mere three meters of Jon, she abruptly halted, directing the wand in her grasp at the black-robed youth, whose wand tip had already flickered with a sinister green glow.

"Lily Potter! Do you think I dare not use the Death Curse on you?"

The young man's sharp gaze bore into her, his threatening words reduced to a cold whisper.

Lily appeared to abandon her notion of forcefully escaping with Jon. Raising her wand defiantly, she confronted the young man and spoke.

"Naturally, you dare not defy the orders of the master you regard as your father, but for this boy, you dare."

While uttering these words, Lily extended the hand not occupied by the wand in Jon's direction.

"Follow me, Jon; I will take you to the real Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"This is a wanted criminal that the Ministry of Magic is offering a reward for!"

The hand of the young man holding the wand did not relax at all. His green light flashing on the tip of the wand acted to preserve the tense equilibrium of the scene.

"Should you choose to accompany her, you shall find yourself ensnared in the Ministry of Magic's most-wanted list, aligned with a faction of terrorists.

Sign, boy. By attaching your name to the notice, you shall become a bona fide student of Hogwarts, the sole magical institution recognized by the wizarding world—not that masquerading terrorist organization."

"I shall take you to the place that is rightfully yours, where you don't have to be isolated, and you won't live a life of tumult alongside this wretched woman and her cohorts."

He presented his case to Jon persuasively, while Lily, standing across from him, did not counter his words. Instead, she calmly addressed Jon once more.

"Take my hand."

"Your signature, Green!"

A peculiar impasse had ensnared the scene, and even Jon himself, who could be considered powerless, found himself unexpectedly capable of breaking the deadlock.

Within a span of a mere few minutes, Jon, inundated by the dilemma, managed to regain his composure. Or rather, upon hearing the name of the witch who had suddenly approached him, wanting to take him to Hogwarts, he grew sober.

Lily Potter.

Both the name and the surname were undeniably familiar to Jon. Yet, if he had indeed traversed into the world of Harry Potter, the bearer of this name should not have manifested in the present time at all!

Therefore, Jon refrained from immediately placing his trust in this woman named Lily.

Though Lily in the original book may indeed be trustworthy, who could substantiate that the individual standing before him was the witch who ought to have perished a decade ago?

Hence, Jon withheld his decision for the time being. He shifted his gaze towards the young man clad in a black robe, clutching a quill in his hand, and took a deep breath. Finally, he could pose the question that had been repeatedly interrupted.

"What I have been meaning to ask, sir, is that you have yet to introduce yourself to me."

Given the circumstances, such a question appeared rather ill-timed. From the perspective of others, even if Jon were privy to the young man's identity, it would bear no relevance to his subsequent choice.

Suppressing the restlessness festering within, the young man merely regarded Jon's question as a manifestation of childish impulsivity. The gentle and patient smile that had adorned his countenance before resurfaced.

"My apologies, Mr. Green, I neglected to introduce myself to you earlier. I am a senior operative of the Ministry of Magic stationed at Hogwarts, as well as a professor of charms at the esteemed Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—Barty Crouch."

Upon hearing the young man's name, Jon was momentarily taken aback. The initial image that materialized in his mind was that of a stern and old-fashioned director of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.

Barty Crouch.

Not that Barty Crouch!

Indeed, it should be Barty Crouch Jr.!

Jon didn't hesitate anymore; for now, he had discerned the appropriate course of action!

He forcefully cast aside the admission notice that lingered before his eyes, disregarding the quill that was still poised to etch his name, and unhesitatingly intertwined his hand with Lily's!

Lily, visibly taken aback by Jon's decisive response, swiftly reciprocated his actions, brandishing the wand in her hand.

"Apparate!"

In an instant, their bodies contorted into a whirlpool, vanishing completely from their original location!

Before Young Barty could start speaking, Lily had already taken Jon away in front of him.

Barty stood there, dazed, as the courtyard transformed into a solitary stage with him as the sole performer. Finally, the guise he had donned could no longer be sustained.

His pallid countenance contorted into an unsettling grimace as rage caused the veins on his forehead to pulsate violently. With each word, he bellowed the boy's name.

"Joe! En! G. Lin! Damn it! You vile Mudblood!"