webnovel

HP: The Necromancer

One ordinary day at the supermarket, a cashier was surprised when a peculiarly dressed man appeared at his door. The man inquired about why he hadn't responded to a letter from the Office for the Prohibition of Abuse of Magic. ------- Note: Other than translation, everything belongs to the original author

keep_smiling29 · 書籍·文学
レビュー数が足りません
162 Chs

Muggle Town

After awarding one point to the student with the highest number of votes, Anthony began collecting the leaves one by one. To his surprise, he discovered that someone had secretly conjured a few extra silver leaves and slipped them in among the others. These leaves were unsigned.

He shook his head with a slight smile. "Who did it?"

The students exchanged glances, but no one responded. The wind was causing their clothes to billow, and several students were busy trying to smooth them back into place, pretending not to hear his question.

"These leaves are beech and elder," Anthony said, holding up the ones he had distributed. "I doubt anyone would mistake them. But these..." He examined the anonymous silver leaves. "I think they're ash leaves? I'm not entirely sure—I'm not great with botany."

He tapped the mysterious leaf with his wand, reverting it to its original color, and pocketed it. "I'll ask the staff at the Botanical Garden, but it's clear these leaves are not the same type I handed out. If you're going to conjure leaves, at least make sure they resemble the originals."

The mayor took great pride in the small town he managed. Surrounded by vast wilderness, the town was home to more than a dozen families, five dogs, seventeen cows, and over two hundred sheep.

Though the neighboring moor was rife with haunted legends—such as one about the moor devouring lost lambs and villagers who, upon searching for the sheep, inexplicably forgot their purpose and returned home in a daze, or tales of witches roaming the fields to snatch children away from careless parents—the town itself remained smooth and peaceful. The daily priorities were simple: ensuring the sheep didn't stray too far and tending to personal vegetable gardens.

At the town's center stood a church, where the townsfolk gathered for important events. Opposite the square was the train station. Twice a day, a red train would pass through, briefly opening its doors before clanging away to its next destination.

As the church bell struck ten, the wind stirred dust on the old bell tower. Suddenly, the dogs began barking furiously.

Amidst the barking, a group of strange people descended the hillside toward the town.

This group of young people sang, shouted, and laughed loudly, their new clothes flapping in the wind, making them look like characters straight out of a television show. The wind played with the hem of a girl's skirt, while various metal ornaments clinked against the buttons of her open coat.

Honest, responsible townsfolk stood behind their fences, watching warily as the lively procession made its way into the town. Smoke rose from the black-scaled tile roofs but was quickly swept away by the gusts.

"Mind your manners, ladies and gentlemen," a man reminded the group. "We've entered a small town."

"Who are you?" asked the mayor, bewildered by the unexpected arrival of such a group. Hearing the dogs barking, he had rushed out, hurriedly buttoning his coat. His bowler hat was left at home, leaving his half-bald head exposed to the chilly air.

The man replied, "We're just here for a school activity. I'm their teacher." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of tickets. "We're headed to Edinburgh. The train station is here, right?"

The mayor glanced at the familiar station name on the tickets and muttered, "Well... yes, that's right..." He was puzzled as to why anyone would arrive so early; the train wasn't due for another half-hour. Who would come to this tiny station so far in advance?

But as the man—who introduced himself as Anthony—continued to explain, the mayor began to lose focus. Anthony spoke with an authentic accent, just like the city folks the mayor had occasionally encountered—yes, those from London. The words he used were the kind that city people favored. To the mayor, these formal, polished words felt as foreign as a summer breeze, slipping in through his collar and out his sleeves, not quite connecting with his thoughts.

"You're from an art school, out here to sketch, right?" the mayor asked, trying to sound knowledgeable.

He nodded to himself, adding, "Yes, the scenery here is quite nice..." He looked around at the gloomy sky, the endless fields and trees, the exposed rocks on the hills, and the dark legends tied to this place. Those painters and writers always seemed to be drawn to such settings. "We get people like you coming through often."

The townspeople exchanged glances. They knew the mayor was talking nonsense again, but no one corrected him.

Anthony smiled and said, "That sounds wonderful. We'd really appreciate it if we could find a place to sit down and rest."

"Of course, you can..." the mayor thought for a moment, "You can rest in the church. It's not time for services yet, so it's empty now."

Anthony paused, a bit surprised by the offer, but then he said, "Thank you for your kindness." Turning to the group of fashionably dressed young people, he announced, "Everyone, let's head to the church for a break."

...

Anthony led the students forward, unable to suppress a sense of irony about the situation.

His initial plan was to arrive early in the town, engage in a bit of friendly conversation with a local farmer, and perhaps arrange for the students to experience rural life firsthand—getting a glimpse of agriculture and animal husbandry, all without the use of magic. He had imagined it as an opportunity to bridge the gap between the magical and non-magical worlds, with himself playing the part of a city dweller learning the ropes alongside the students.

But now, the mayor—who was red-faced and slightly confused—had proposed taking them to the church instead. 

In some ways, this was convenient. The mayor didn't seem particularly devout, which reduced the likelihood of any dramatic reactions if the students inadvertently did something out of the ordinary. There was no immediate danger of pitchforks and torches being brandished. On the other hand, given that Hogwarts was founded to provide young wizards a safe haven from the very institution they were now heading towards, it felt slightly absurd for a Muggle Studies professor to lead a group of wizarding students into a church.

Anthony hadn't planned to cover anything related to the Bible, and it wasn't part of his curriculum. While living in the UK, students would undoubtedly encounter elements of Christianity in their daily lives—whether through Christmas holidays or historical references to conflicts between the church and wizards. However, Anthony doubted whether any of them knew the proper etiquette for entering a Muggle church.

As he walked at the head of the group, he couldn't shake his concern. He tried to subtly steer the conversation with the mayor towards other options, suggesting alternative locations for their rest, but the mayor remained adamant. The church was, after all, the closest building to the train station and, in his eyes, the most suitable place for them to take a break.