Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 119 A Serious Person Writes a Diary
"08.28.1992, sunny.

There are still three days until the start of school at Hogwarts.

Diagon Alley remains prosperous and bustling, with Gilderoy Lockhart holding a book signing at Flourish and Blotts.

As my colleague who will be taking over as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in the new academic year, Professor Lockhart is not only proficient in all kinds of magic, but has also completed many adventures, defeating Eastern snowmen, werewolves, vampires, and howling banshees. In fact, I don't understand why he would return to school to teach as a recipient of the Order of Merlin.

I think it’s because school life is comfortable and pleasant. At least there are house-elves taking care of their food and daily life, and the students can make people feel their vibrant vitality.

Or maybe it's because of the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter."

The ink in the quill was exhausted. Melvin put the quill back into the ink bottle and made an expression as if he was recalling his experience and thinking about the wording while waiting for the ink to be drawn, but his eyes were always on the diary.

The ink seeps through the paper fibers and slowly permeates the paper without any abnormalities.

Melvin stroked his quill with a thoughtful expression.

It seems that Tom Riddle in the Horcrux still doesn't know who Harry Potter is.

According to Mr. Malfoy, ever since Voldemort gave the diary to him for safekeeping, he has always been on guard and has not tried to explore the secrets of the diary. He sealed it in a wooden box in the attic and even the house elves were not allowed to touch it when cleaning.

This caution prevents the remnant soul from communicating with the outside world, and it still retains its memories of when it was 16 years old.

Melvin tapped the quill against the ink bottle twice to shake off the remaining ink and continued writing in his diary:
"As the assistant teacher of the Magical Beasts course, this was my first time meeting Potter. He was different from what I expected. He was thin, wore glasses, and his magic was slightly better than his peers, but that was all.

He couldn't even use Floo powder correctly, panicked when he mistakenly entered Knockturn Alley, and was almost abducted by a dark wizard. I find it hard to believe that such an ordinary student could have defeated You-Know-Who when he was still in his infancy."

The ink slowly spread out, and there was still nothing unusual.

Melvin couldn't help but frown slightly, and when he saw the mysterious man's address, he suddenly realized something.

Instead of going back to revise the title, which would have seemed too rigid and likely to arouse suspicion, he continued writing on a new line:
"You-Know-Who, the Dark Lord, Voldemort, and Death Eaters—what terrifying words! When I was a student at Hogwarts, these names could give freshmen nightmares. I never thought it would be twelve years since their downfall. It's truly heartbreaking."

The ink on the remaining paper continued to spread slowly, but no trace of any remaining soul was found.

But if you look back carefully, you'll notice that several paragraphs have completely dried out, leaving only a surface layer of the writing that once soaked through the paper. Remember, this is in the mild and humid weather of London; for writing to reach this level of dryness, it would take at least several days, and even months during the rainy season.

It seemed as if a strange force was absorbing and swallowing up most of the ink, leaving only ink marks that barely maintained the shape of the characters.

Faint fluctuations of magical power seemed to be spreading out.

Melvin's lips curled up slightly, his brain occlumency working non-stop. He paused with his quill and continued writing:
"This must involve some unknown secrets, perhaps ancient magic, or a powerful curse. What power could have thwarted the most powerful dark wizard in history? It's really curious.

Unfortunately, Harry Potter is not yet in his third year and cannot take Care of Magical Creatures, so we rarely have the opportunity to communicate."

Melvin packaged himself as a typical young Hufflepuff teaching assistant, who was curious about secrets and had a slight desire for power, but was unwilling to actively explore it. All he needed was a good teacher to guide him.

Unfortunately, the ink in the diary just dried a little faster, and there were no other unusual reactions.

Melvin waited quietly, without any impatient thoughts.

The 16-year-old Tom Riddle was cautious and rational, good at disguise and guessing people's hearts. If he had taken the bait at the first attempt, he would never have become the Dark Lord who swept across Britain.

After making sure the ink was dry, Melvin closed the diary with a normal expression and put it in the drawer of the cabinet.

There is still a long way to go and he has plenty of patience.

……

August 31st, 10:00 am.

Melvin walked into the Hogwarts gate and went inside along the path in the grounds. He looked at the school he had not seen for two months, and paid special attention to the Whomping Willow, whose branches swayed slowly as it leisurely basked in the sun.

Soon we arrived at the greenhouse.

Professor Sprout, dressed in a brown-green gardener's uniform, carried a small bucket in one hand, one filled with fermented dragon dung and the other with cut plant branches. With his limited knowledge of herbal medicine, Melvin saw several poisonous plants in the bucket, the kind that would leave someone in bed if touched.

"Professor Sprout! Long time no see!"

Melvin greeted him warmly and helped take the bucket of fertilizer.

Fermentation has been completed and the smell is slightly sour, but tolerable.

Professor Sprout smiled and said, "Melvin, Minerva was still nagging you the other day, saying that you had to wait until the last day of the holiday to return to school, just to be lazy and avoid preparing for the start of school."

“I’m just an elective professor.”

Melvin answered with a smile, his tone righteous and confident. He couldn't be like their dean, returning to school early to mail acceptance letters and occasionally taking students' parents to visit Diagon Alley.

Sprout dumped the pruned branches into the compost pit, turned to the mandrake bed, turned the soil over, and buried the fermented dragon dung balls.

Melvin watched from the side, occasionally helping to pass tools. "Professor, I brought back some snake tree branches from Ilvermorny. Can you see if you can cultivate them?"

"Snake tree..."

Sprout was stunned for a moment. She had certainly heard of the Ilvermorny Snake Tree before, and she immediately became interested: "Show me!"

The snake tree originates from the mysterious areas of the Far East or Eastern Europe. It grows in humid valleys and deep in forests. It gets its name because it attracts poisonous snakes and lives in symbiosis with them.

The snake tree secretes a sweet sap with a unique scent that attracts other animals to lick it. When they let their guard down, venomous snakes hidden in the treetops suddenly pounce. The remaining flesh and blood left in the soil after being eaten by the snakes becomes nutrients for the growth of the snake tree.

Therefore, it has a sinister and cruel symbolic meaning. The heartwood can be used to make wands, which is very suitable for insidious dark magic. This is why Salazar Slytherin chose the snakewood wand.

The snake tree in Ilvermorny is completely different from the original snake tree. It is nurtured by the remaining magic of Slytherin and the water and soil of Mount Greylock. It is almost impossible to cut down and destroy, and has powerful medical effects.

The leaves are narrow and lanceolate with slightly undulating edges. Each leaf is about 20 to 30 cm long and less than half a palm wide.

In early autumn, the leaves are a deep green with a cool hue on the surface and a pale silver-grey on the underside. The bark ranges from dark red to brown-black, covered in scaly cracks, through which silvery-white sap can be seen seeping.

"It's very resilient. This season is perfect for cuttings." Sprout peeled off the bark and observed it, then said thoughtfully, "This snake tree has excellent healing properties. The sap can be used to treat wounds and promote healing, and the leaves can detoxify. Poppy and Severus will definitely be interested."

"Then I'll leave it to you, Professor."

Melvin was very satisfied. Professional matters should indeed be left to professionals.

Madam Pomfrey is the school doctor, and for the sake of all the teachers and students, she can use it free of charge if needed;
Snape was the Potions Master and had a lot of assets, so he could blackmail someone if he needed to.

"In praise of Hogwarts..."

As I walked into the castle hall, I saw Professor Flitwick setting up the venue from afar.

As a proactive professor of the elective course, Melvin quickly walked over to help, handing over banners and checking the position of the ribbons, which greatly slowed down Flitwick's progress.

"A little to the left, yes, a little more to the left..."

"That's too far, a little to the right." "Let's stay where we are."

"..."

Flitwick was speechless. He hung up the ribbons and got down from the bench. When placing the candles, he no longer listened to his advice and adjusted it according to his own ideas, and the efficiency was immediately improved.

"Melvin, have you seen the results of the Student Wizarding Registration Exam?"

"I just got back two days ago and haven't had time to watch it yet."

“You should see it.”

Flitwick wanted to maintain some suspense, but couldn't help but happily reveal the answer: "All the seventh-year wizards who took Muggle Studies received certificates of proficiency, and all the fifth-year elective classes passed, with at least half achieving distinction!"

"Only half." Melvin shook his head with regret.

Flitwick felt irritated by his expression and suddenly didn't want to continue the topic. "Have you decided how to take the third-year elective courses? Will the four houses be divided into two classes, or will they all be put together in one large classroom?"

"Let's get a big classroom together, it will be more convenient."

"Remember to tell Minerva at dinner time that she is arranging the class schedule."

"Remind me when the time comes..."

"Silvanus and Hagrid returned this afternoon. I heard Hagrid broke his leg. I wonder how he's doing?"

"At least Professor Kettleburn's remaining arm and leg are okay."

"..."

Professor Flitwick paused, pondered for a moment, and actually felt that this made some sense.

……

The setting sun hung over the castle tower, and the forbidden forest and grounds were quiet and peaceful.

The castle's outer walls were illuminated orange, and shadows cast across the field grew longer and longer.

The dinner was exceptionally sumptuous. The professors gathered in the auditorium and divided into two circles according to the topic of their conversation. On one side, Flitwick and others were chatting about interesting things during the holidays, while on the other side, Professor McGonagall tilted her head slightly and talked to the headmaster about matters related to the start of school.

Dumbledore was distracted, clearly more interested in the conversation going on nearby.

Hagrid was sitting behind the long table at the head guest table, wearing his moleskin jacket. There were still bruises on his cheeks and around his eyes. His right arm was wrapped in a bandage hanging around his neck, with faint traces of dried blood and burns.

A fat hunting dog with shiny fur lay at my feet, sniffing around with delight.

Hagrid used his free hand to pull off the turkey leg and gnaw on it with relish.

I'm still not used to eating with my left hand.

It was awkwardly held in front of my eyes, and I still had to stretch my neck to bite it.

"call……"

After finishing the whole turkey leg with a grin, Hagrid let out a long sigh. He was barely half full, but his neck was a little sore. He decided to rest for a while before eating again.

Just happened to listen to what Melvin and the professors were talking about.

Melvin sat with Professor Kettleburn, mainly to inquire about what had happened after he left. The Shadow Mirror developed rapidly, and Wright became a guest of honor among local wizard celebrities and nobles.

The Floo Network renovation was not yet complete, but sales of the small shadow mirrors were already underway.

"In a short period of time, Romanian tavern owners incorporated local characteristics into the creation of fun images of fire dragons, and bundled them with football matches for sale. Many tourists bought them as souvenirs."

Kettleburn had a complicated expression and a sighing tone.

Wright was too busy to handle the renovation of the Floo Network and the manufacture of shadow mirrors, so of course the shadow mirrors were in short supply.

Because he knew Wright and Melvin, many wizards asked him for help. After one or two times, Wright, who was too busy, simply asked him to handle sales business. He usually attended dinners and dances everywhere, negotiated orders and received commissions.

In just two months, he earned more than he had in the past ten years. It took him many years to save up enough for his retirement, but now his wealth has increased several times.

I suddenly became rich and felt confused.

And I haven't been injured this summer.

"How's the animal world memory imaging going?"

"I've almost finished splicing the footage, but the commentary..."

"Don't rush this, take your time."

Melvin nodded slightly and raised another question: "How did Hagrid break his hand?"

"Didn't you leave behind more than a dozen cans of blue flame? Hagrid and Norberta had a lot of fun playing with them." Kettleburn paused, as if remembering his younger self. "Then he felt playing with underage dragons wasn't enough, so he took the glass jar to find an adult Hessidian black dragon to play with. Coincidentally, they were a dragon couple, and at the time..."

"..."

Hagrid felt a little ashamed, lowered his head silently, and quietly observed the situation.

He saw that several professors around him were all staring at him. Even Professor McGonagall turned her head with a playful smile on her face. Hagrid's face turned red and he didn't dare to look up. He buried his head and looked at Yaya.

"Thanks to Merlin, Hagrid is in good health. He was whipped more than a dozen times by the two black dragons' tails, but only one hand was broken, and the rest of his injuries were just superficial. However, his body is very special, and conventional healing magic is not very effective. He can only slowly recover from his injuries."

"Hahaha……"

The night before school started at Hogwarts, the Great Hall was filled with a cheerful atmosphere.

……

Melvin drank two more glasses and on his way back upstairs to the office, he was quickly sobered up by the evening breeze.

The corridor was quiet, and the moonlight shone in through the window at midnight, making it bright. In Myrtle's bathroom, there was the sound of the toilet flushing, a gurgling sound. He stopped for a few minutes, listening to the noise inside.

He remembered that the entrance to the secret room was the faucet in the bathroom, but he didn't know Parseltongue and couldn't turn it on for the time being.

It's a new school year again. With the diary in my hands, Hogwarts will probably be calmer this year.

Back in the familiar office, Mel sat behind his desk, waiting for his mind to clear completely. He took out his diary and began to write:
"08.31.1992, sunny..."

(End of this chapter)