Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 208 Daily Life at the End of the School Year
As the final exams approach, the teachers and students of Hogwarts have entered a busy period of preparation. The fifth and seventh year students are the most nervous, and their voices can be heard reciting their lessons during meals every day, chattering away, which makes the students in other grades nervous as well.

In such a busy and sweltering time, the Hogsmeade weekend is a rare time for relaxation. When students in their third year and above return from their outings, the oppressive atmosphere around them dissipates somewhat, and the Great Hall at dinner is filled with laughter and chatter instead of those headache-inducing recitations.

George stood up, bent down, and leaned towards the other side, placing the golden-brown chicken leg onto his plate in front of his younger brother. Facing Ron's angry glare, he said lightly, "I helped Ms. Rosmerta watch the bar for two hours today, and she gave me a poster. Anyone want it?"

"A poster?" Ron looked up.

"A poster for the Charlie Cannons, a promotional photo for the Summer Season, the Seeker in the main position, and everyone in it moves!" George's voice was full of enticement.

"My dear brother!" Ron perked up and immediately switched to the most affectionate way of addressing him, "Here's all my chicken legs, is that enough? If not, I'll go get more!"

“Sigh… This is something I earned through my work, it embodies Ms. Rosmerta’s gratitude and the team’s spirit, it’s really hard to part with.” George was very satisfied with Ron’s performance. “Although it’s outdated material left over from the promotion, it’s exquisitely made and has great collectible value. If you take it to the Quidditch boutique, it’ll be worth at least 7 silver shicos.”

"You want me to pay for it?" Ron's eyes widened in disbelief, while the man was still gnawing on the roasted chicken leg he had taken.

"We're brothers, why would we sell it to you at the original price?"

Fred, who was standing next to him, stood up, took the few chicken legs left on his plate, and said with a smile, "We'll only have 5 scoops."

“Go eat troll dung!” Ron was furious at his older brother’s snobbishness.

George and Fred exchanged a smile, not in a hurry, and raised their voices slightly to whisper regret in his ear:

"It looks like this deal won't go through. What a pity. I heard that these posters are limited editions, only available to tavern owners for promoting the summer tournament. They're practically rare collectibles."

"You forgot to mention, there's a championship trophy and a victory broom in the background. It's practically a work of art, perfect for die-hard Charlie Cannons fans to collect!"

"Fred, think about it, if someone unfurls this poster at a game, which player could resist signing it?"

"Nobody will do, not even Charlie!"

"Alright!" Ron couldn't help but slam his hand on the table and stand up, spreading out five tin coins. "Five tin coins, I'll take the poster."

“No, it has to be 7 West! We’ve just discovered its true value.” George had the air of a shrewd businessman. “Only true fans deserve this poster. 5 West is an insult to this poster, an insult to the name of Charlie Cannons. I think you think so too, my dear Ronnie.”

"you you……"

Ron's face turned red with anger. "You've seen the letter Mom sent me. 7 cents is all my allowance."

Summer vacation is just around the corner, and he won't have much pocket money at home during the holidays. He needs these things for several months, and these two greedy guys actually want to empty his wallet.

George and Fred looked at each other and smiled:
"Okay, doing business is all about bargaining."

“We can each compromise, and that's fine, plus two months of housework during the summer vacation.”

Ron was somewhat tempted. He could get the poster and keep 3 Xikes. He would have to help his mother with housework anyway, and considering the twins' share... it seemed acceptable.

Just as the deal was about to be closed, another redhead stood up. Ginny, who had been listening to the whole thing, glared at the twins: "You two, that's enough! Give him the poster, and don't talk about prices or chores, or I'll go home and tell my mom that you're ripping people off with expired posters that were taken off the pub's exterior."

"How can you call that a lie?"

"We also put in the work, so we should get some reward."

George and Fred looked sullen as they handed the poster to Ron. It was indeed torn from the wall, with some wine stains and dirt on the edges and corners, and traces of glue that hadn't been cleaned off the back.

Ron gritted his teeth and glared, trying to sting their consciences with his angry eyes, but when he saw the players above waving at him, he couldn't help but grin.

Couldn't you have been a little tougher and said something harsher?

Ginny sighed speechlessly; this guy was hopeless.

How do you know they tore the posters down themselves?

Harry leaned in and whispered in her ear.

Ginny turned to look at him, a blush spreading from her neck to her cheeks, and whispered, "Just... just now, Lee Jordan and the others said that."

"Ron always says that George and Fred bully him. Is it the same at home?"

“Sometimes, they felt that the best response to Ron’s pranks was to scare him a few times at the corner of the stairs, and for the next two months he would be very careful going up the stairs… Once they turned his teddy bear into a giant spider, and he has been afraid of spiders ever since.”

Ginny was a little confused, but answered whatever was asked. "But ever since they tried to trick Ron into making an unbreakable vow and got a good scolding from Mom, the frequency of their pranks has decreased, and the severity has also decreased. At most, they'll just trick him out of pocket money."

“Poor Ron, at least you’re here to help him,” Harry said in a low voice. “You’re so kind, Ginny.”

Ginny kept her head down, her expression unreadable, staring intently at the fruit and vegetable salad on her plate. She said in a muffled voice, "It's nothing, it's nothing."

The murmur was too soft. Harry had already turned his head away, being pulled by Ron to look at his old posters. He didn't hear the last sentence. Ginny felt her burning cheeks slowly calm down, feeling a little disappointed but also relieved.

She lowered her head and silently fiddled with the salad on her plate. Her first year at Hogwarts was coming to an end, which made her feel a little dazed. The clinking of cutlery reminded her of dinner at the Burrow.

Before the start of the new school year, Mom always prepares a particularly lavish farewell meal. Sometimes they'll talk about things at the table.

"Have you seen the Hogwarts school checklist? The textbooks and course materials are so expensive, and there are five students in our family."

“I originally wanted to buy them old books, let Ginny wear a robe from a secondhand shop, and use an old cauldron… Luckily, Ron earned some money for the family.”

At that time, she also kept her head down and didn't speak, not daring to think about how embarrassing it would be for her to wear an old robe and use an old crucible and textbook in class.

She still remembers the tone of her parents' voices when they said those words, like the howling wind outside the window on a rainy night. Every time the ghoul upstairs knocked on the water pipes, it made her wonder if something was broken, and she was so worried that she couldn't sleep all night.

From then on, she was especially grateful to Ron and Professor Levent for sparing her from such embarrassment and allowing her to sit in the classroom like any other student.

……

June is approaching, and the end of the semester is just around the corner.

Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, who taught compulsory courses, became busy preparing for final exams for all five grades and discussing matters related to the Wizarding Level Examinations with the Examination Authority. Meanwhile, elective course professors, such as Melvin, did not have classes for lower grades and were relatively less busy.

In the past two weeks, Melvin had compiled the syllabus and exam outlines for this year's Muggle Studies course and handed them over to Madam Marchbanner. To avoid any appearance of impropriety, he didn't participate in setting the exam questions. As for the second-year Defense Against the Dark Arts course, considering the mass failures he caused last year, Professor McGonagall also excluded him from the course. Only a few classes remained in the final days of the year.

In the foreword to *Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Defense*, Quentin Trimb tells us that besides humans, there are many more magical creatures of greater diversity in the world. These creatures have different characteristics and lifestyles, and some of them possess powerful and destructive magic. Wizards who wish to subdue them need to find the right methods and choose appropriate spells.

"This is also the main content of the Defense Against the Dark Arts course."

"As for what Professor Gaunt mentioned, learning dark magic, dealing with dark magic, and defeating dark wizards are not things you should be considering at your age."

"This year's Defense Against the Dark Arts final exam will have a theory exam set by Professors Flitwick and Sprout, and a practical exam set and proctored by Professor McGonagall. Now let's review this year's material."

"..."

The last Defense Against the Dark Arts class before the final exams didn't actually cover much teaching content; the main purpose was to relieve pre-exam anxiety.

Melvin didn't let Riddle substitute for him again. Instead, he reviewed the content of the past year in a concise but efficient way, starting with Lockhart, dealing with the Yeti and the Trolls, and how to live in the jungle and snow mountain. He reviewed everything. This kind of review and summary can be considered as highlighting the key points before the exam.

After a class, the classroom was completely silent, except for the scratching sound of quills gliding across notebooks. The students were receiving knowledge, feeling as if the knowledge was flowing through their heads like a cool, refreshing stream.

But upon closer reflection, he realized he hadn't remembered anything, and he gasped in shock, feeling a chill run down his spine as if he were under a spell of oblivion.

When Hermione chased the professor out of the classroom, she hesitated, as if her mind was filled with too much knowledge and she couldn't think of what to ask. She could only silently follow beside the professor, sorting out her thoughts as she walked.

Melvin walked to the office door, pushed it open to let the little witch go in and sit down first, while he put down his textbooks and prepared tea and snacks.

"Professor Lewinter."

The little witch looked up at me, her face fair and her expression serious. "Last time you said Professor Gaunt was trying to get close to Harry. What was his intention?"

This child is busy reviewing lessons during the day, and also has to investigate Horcruxes in his spare time. His mind is a little confused.

“What other intention could there be?” Melvin took a sip of tea, shook his head and smiled, “Deliberately getting close to him to gather intelligence, of course he wants to murder Harry.”

"But...Professor..."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in surprise, the rest of her sentence stuck in her throat.

"Knowing someone was plotting to harm Harry, why let him substitute for the class?" Melvin finished her question for her, then answered himself, "What else could we do? He's just a phantom carrying memories, he doesn't have a physical body, we don't even know if the real him is still alive. We can't lock him up in prison, we can't torture him, are we supposed to destroy the golden cup he inhabits as well?"

if not?
Hermione was about to nod when she heard Professor Levent say quietly, "That's Hufflepuff's golden cup."

"Is it really the Hufflepuff Cup?" Hermione couldn't believe it.

The relics left by the founder of Hogwarts contain unimaginable magical power in each item. They have been missing for thousands of years and are simply mysterious and ancient sacred objects. Yet, these very spiritual totems suddenly appeared in Professor Levent's hands, and an evil spirit was hiding inside, plotting against the students.

Melvin looked at her with a smile: "Didn't you already guess?"

"I thought it was a replica made by a craftsman."

"Unfortunately, this is the real thing. Professor Gaunt, who lives inside, is a dark wizard."

Melvin's expression showed no regret whatsoever; it was completely casual, even with the leisure to sip his tea. "What should we do now? Destroy the founder's relics that have been passed down for thousands of years? Have the Ministry of Magic issue an arrest warrant, comparing it with portraits from who-knows-how-many years ago, and search for a wizard whose fate is unknown throughout Britain or even the world?"

Hermione whispered, "We can't just do nothing, can we?"

"That's what I thought too, so I asked him to cover my classes."

Melvin looked at the indignant little witch, shrugged and smiled, "Hermione, your curiosity about knowledge and truth is a gift from heaven, but you should know that not all questions need to be explored to the end, and not everything needs to be arranged in the best way. Sometimes we need to see ourselves clearly and choose what we really need."

Melvin pulled a course selection form from his pocket, with a checkmark next to each option: "Just like your course selection form, Professor McGonagall asked me to advise you to reconsider what you really need."

These words were utterly insincere. If it weren't for Professor McGonagall's request, Melvin wouldn't have wanted to persuade her; he was actually quite interested in seeing the Time-Turner.

"After all that, it turns out he just wanted to persuade me to choose a course." Hermione stared at him with a wistful look in her eyes and muttered to herself, "Professor McGonagall clearly said she would arrange everything for me."

She glanced up discreetly, but there was something else she didn't say.

Compared to persuading students to choose courses, Professor Levent's explanation sounded more like a perfunctory attempt to gloss over the issues of the Gold Cup and Professor Gaunt.

But final exams are coming up soon, so let's just keep the kids entertained.

……

"Oh my God."

"They're coming!"

"Who? The chief examiner, of course!"

Amidst the clamor of discussion, a group of fifth and seventh graders instantly turned their heads to look at the auditorium entrance and the foyer.

A small group of wizards who looked very old slowly approached. The leader was an old witch who looked even older than Dumbledore. She was hunchbacked, thin, and had fine wrinkles that looked like a spider web.

Ms. Marching and Professor McGonagall leaned close to talk, and because she was hard of hearing, her voice was so loud that everyone around them could hear her.

"Where's Melvin? As an advisor to the Bureau, why isn't he showing up at this time? Does he not want to see us old guys?"

"..."

Melvin, who was dining at the head table, felt a lot of attention and looked helpless, so he had no choice but to get up and greet them.

The students then realized that exam week 1993 had begun.

The school year is over.

(End of this chapter)