Voldemort is indeed difficult to find; the whole United States is so vast that if Voldemort is really determined to hide, no one could locate him.
Just as the Death God said, the immediate priority now is to quickly resurrect Pabi.
Mr. Leme's magic spell is only a backup option for now, since it doesn't sound anything like White Magic.
Have you seen any White Magic that uses the father's bone, the servant's flesh, and the enemy's blood?
Do you think it's like handcrafting the Heart of Azeroth?
But besides these three items, some herbs are also needed to brew a batch of magic potion to catalyze the resurrection.
Brewing a magic potion takes time as well; Mr. Leme has all these ingredients in his collection, but it still needs nearly half a year before they can be used properly.
So they had to leave temporarily, waiting for Mr. Leme's magic potion to be completed.
The Death God didn't settle down at Hogwarts; she has her own business to attend to and only returns occasionally.
Lately, the conflict between Little Sirius the teaching assistant and Professor Snape is getting increasingly intense. When the two meet, it's apparent that they find each other thoroughly displeasing, and at any moment they might cast an evil curse on each other's face.
Little Sirius considers himself mature, so he didn't make the first move—though his mental age is only in his early twenties.
And Snape... Snape is slyly malicious; he's just waiting for Little Sirius to make a move first so he would have a legitimate reason to "teach Little Sirius a lesson."
So the two of them continue this standoff, leaving students who hoped for a spectacle quite disappointed.
Hurry up and fight, will you! Just looking at each other won't kill anyone!
Being adults, Snape and Little Sirius wouldn't really start fighting in front of the students.
It would be a terrible influence, to put it bluntly.
It seems that in the blink of an eye, December has arrived.
This year's winter isn't particularly cold, at least much warmer compared to last year.
Early in December, the school began bustling: Professor Flitwick still held the responsibility of decorating the Great Hall, waving his magic wand as he skillfully decorated it; Hagrid was still responsible for bringing some Christmas trees back to add to the festive atmosphere of the school.
"I've never understood why wizards celebrate Christmas."
Harry looked at the Great Hall filled with festive spirit and said to Cassandra, who was sitting beside him.
A hundred years ago at Hogwarts, Christmas was just starting to become popular—it's been almost less than a ten-year tradition.
Harry had heard of this but never delved into the details.
Recently, Vivi is absent from Hogwarts; she's reportedly busy with her graduation thesis defense, giving Harry an opportunity to invite Cassandra out for chats.
Cassandra naturally wouldn't refuse Harry's invitation and was even quite pleased because Harry gifted her a pair of white gloves.
"You should know, Potter." Cassandra absent-mindedly played with her fingers, "Wizards actually don't celebrate Christmas; it was only introduced to accommodate students from the Muggle World a few years ago—around the time you enrolled. After you left, Principal Black even wanted to cancel this holiday."
"It seems he didn't succeed," Harry said.
"Oh, unless he isn't afraid of students ambushing him with evil curses." Cassandra raised her eyebrows, "But it seems to make no difference. I mean, after all, he's the most unpopular principal in the history of Hogwarts."
"For being another Black, I find Little Sirius far more likable than him," Harry said.
Cassandra put her hand down and gave him a complicated look.
What are you saying?
"You think your dog godfather is more likable than him?" Cassandra sighed, "Potter, you really are... never mind."
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, confused. He didn't want any conflict between Cassandra and his godfather.
"Nothing," Cassandra shook her head, "You're right, your dog godfather indeed is much better than Principal Black."
While saying this, Cassandra recalled when Little Sirius had barked at her and Vivi.
Heh...
The Black family is just the same.
But for Potter's sake, Cassandra still decided not to care about that black dog.
Harry looked at Cassandra suspiciously; somehow, he felt Cassandra meant more than she said.
However, he automatically ignored the nickname "dog godfather," as Cassandra always spoke with that sarcastic tone, and he was used to it.
If Cassandra could say anything sweet, Harry would actually find it unsettling.
At the staff table, Little Sirius looked at Harry sitting with the "Slytherin woman," biting the table cloth, his expression utterly miserable.
Fork!
I've wronged you!
Snape, of course, noticed Little Sirius's odd behavior; he pretended to eat casually but kept his ears sharp, ready for any news.
"You should relax." Lupin gracefully cut food on his plate with a knife and fork, "Even if he's your godchild, you shouldn't overly interfere with his choice in partners—sometimes even biological parents lose connection with children over this; you wouldn't want that to happen… "
"I just feel I owe the fork!" Little Sirius bit the table cloth and said through gritted teeth, "My god, Harry's involved with a Slytherin woman..."