Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 256 Let them feel pain

The flickering torches illuminated the castle corridors, casting a soft, warm glow on the gray stone walls and adding a touch of life to the otherwise cold and austere ancient castle. The wizards in the picture frames whispered amongst themselves, occasionally greeting passing students or ghosts.

Harry, Harry, and his two friends were well-regarded in the portrait community, and on Saturday night, they were greeted and chatted with along the stairs to their tutoring class.

"Harry, Hermione, where did you two go this afternoon? The common room was so lively today, I didn't see either of you." Ron muttered to his two friends, "I needed teammates for the Gobstone Club team match this afternoon, and since I couldn't find you two, I had to team up with Neville, and I got sprayed with mud."

"I'm writing my paper in the library..." Hermione sighed weakly.

"After morning training, Captain Wood pulled me aside for some special training. This is his last year at school, and he hopes to leave the Quidditch trophy in Gryffindor before he leaves." Harry sighed as well; his bottom was still a little sore from sitting on a broom all day.

“Why aren’t George and Fred doing any special training? They were counting their gambling winnings this afternoon, a ton of silver coins! They even showed them off in front of me!” Ron gritted his teeth. “I really want to report those two guys, and if Mom finds out they’re gambling, she’ll break their legs!”

Harry shook his head and remained silent. The rest of the team were all seasoned veterans who disappeared after the team training ended, leaving only him to be caught while tidying up the brooms.

Hermione shook her sluggish head for a moment, then remembered that the bet was from last night's match. The duel practice between Snape and Professor Lupin had been a close contest for the first ten minutes, but Professor Lupin eventually ran out of energy and couldn't escape the final curse.

George and Fred couldn't help but laugh out loud, and were almost dragged into the bathroom and beaten up by Lee Jordan and his gang.

Snape didn't seem to be deliberately trying to embarrass Professor Lupin.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, then slowed down and voiced her question. Snape had long been hostile to Gryffindor, always penalizing students and giving Professor Lupin the cold shoulder. "...Don't you guys find it a little strange that he didn't just knock Professor Lupin off the ring like he did with Lockhart?"

"Perhaps because...they were classmates in the same year?"

Harry walked on the innermost side, and he remembered Professor Levent's words. Professor Lupin and two other wizards had been good friends with his father and were also responsible for his parents' deaths.

“Perhaps it’s because Professor Lupin is sick. The old bat is a terrible fellow, but he is, after all, a professor at Hogwarts.” Ron shrugged. “He can’t very well bully a sick colleague in front of all the professors, can he?”

“Speaking of which… what exactly is Professor Lupin’s illness?” Harry looked at the light from the cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. “It required Snape to brew medicine specifically for him, and Hagrid to keep it a secret, so it’s definitely not a common cold.”

"A disease that needs to be kept secret..."

Hermione pondered for a moment, then rummaged through the knowledge she had acquired from her family of doctors. "It's probably an infectious disease, like AIDS or hepatitis B. Under normal circumstances, it won't be transmitted to students, but leaking information could cause panic."

“Hermione, don’t forget you’re a wizard. Don’t always apply Muggle stereotypes to wizards. When have you ever seen that kind of contagious disease in a spellbook?” Ron curled his lip. “If you ask me, Professor Lupin has dragonpox!”

"Wizard Weasley, you should read some books before showing off your meager knowledge of wizarding medicine."

Hermione glanced at him. "Dragonpox is the most dangerous infectious disease known in the wizarding world. There is almost no cure. You can only rely on magic to tough it out. Many elderly wizards and underage wizards have died from this disease. Use your brain and think about it. If Professor Lupin's disease is so dangerous, would Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall have hired him to teach?"

"You're the know-it-all."

Ron scratched his face and muttered to himself.

"We can ask Professor Levent later."

Harry tried to mediate helplessly from the side. As they spoke, the three of them arrived at the door of the Muggle Studies Department office. Today was the weekend, the day for tutoring.

Hermione turned to look at Ron; this person wasn't a tutoring student.

Ron chuckled and pulled out his unfinished Muggle research paper: "I'm here to ask you some questions!"

"..."

Harry ignored the two men, stood in front of the door and listened for a while. When there was no sound from inside, he went up and knocked on the door. The dull thud of the wooden door echoed far into the quiet corridor at night.

However, no one answered from inside.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance, hesitated for a moment, and then knocked on the door again, this time with a little more force.

Still no answer.

"Hey, over here!" someone called out from the back aisle.

In the summer church painting, a knight in silver armor and holding a lance stands on the grass, hopping and waving at them.

Sir Cadogan.

In the painting, the knight struggles to mount his pony, trying to get closer to them, and pants as he says, "Professor Levent asked me to tell you that tonight's tutoring session has been postponed; he has urgent business to attend to."

“Sir Cadogan, do you know what it is?” Hermione asked, leaning closer.

“How could we, with these portraits, know anything about wizards in reality? I only saw the professors leaving the castle at the same time in the evening, as well as Longbottom, the president of the drama club.”

"You mean Neville?"

"Perhaps the portrait in the headmaster's office knows something. Headmaster Delis de Winter has been going back and forth between St. Mungo's and Hogwarts several times today."

Cadogan suddenly covered his mouth, frowned, and shook his head. "I shouldn't have told you these things. How could a qualified knight leak information?"

He then pushed the pony between his legs, shook the reins, and was about to leave when the playful pony nearly knocked him off. The man and the horse started arguing and disappeared into the depths of the painting.

The three looked at each other, their expressions similarly puzzled.

……

At night, the shops in Hogsmeade light up with magical candles, much like the neon lights in a Muggle city. The candlelight in ordinary shops gradually goes out, leaving only three brooms still brightly lit.

Neville Longbottom looked around at the signs on both sides of the street with a bit of a blank expression. A night wind blew by, and he shivered uncontrollably, goosebumps rising on his neck and arms. According to school rules, third-grade students had to wait until after Halloween before they could come here to spend the weekend according to their applications.

"Did I arrive three months early?" Neville thought to himself.

"Child, are you cold?" Professor Sprout asked gently. Neville looked up, his eyes reflecting the figures of the professors around him. Hogwarts' main force had all arrived. Leading the way were Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Levent, and Professor Lupin, who were discussing how to awaken long-dormant memories. Behind them were the four Headmasters.

Several elective course professors were also absent because they stayed at Hogwarts.

Although the patients were his own parents, Neville still felt that the lineup was too grand.

Melvin walked on the right side of the street, past three brooms. The evening light in the Central Post Office's duty room was still on. Their destination was the old house that Professor Celticburn had purchased in his retirement.

After discussing the treatment plan last night, the retired professor used his connections to purchase enough Boggarts overnight. Dumbledore contacted St. Mungo's and Lady Longbottom to bring the patient couple to Hogsmeade.

"Let me make it clear beforehand that this treatment is just an experiment. I have no confidence in it and cannot make any definite promises." Melvin's gaze fell on a non-stick pan in the display case of the shop next door.

“We can’t give any definite promises. Frank and Alice will be able to leave the closed ward. Augusta is only grateful to you, and even if he can’t regain his memory, that gratitude will not diminish.”

Dumbledore stroked his silver-white beard, which was tied together with a pink ribbon.

“Frank and Alice,” Lupin said with emotion.

They were not only comrades in the Order of the Phoenix but also classmates in Gryffindor, one year ahead of them. They were an enviable couple during their school days, graduating together, becoming Aurors together, fighting against Voldemort together, and escaping the Death Eaters' pursuit several times.

Even after giving birth to Neville, she remained active on the front lines of the war, gathering intelligence, relaying messages, and rescuing wizards in danger.

He had successfully survived until Voldemort's downfall and the Death Eaters scattered, but during one of his outings, he was cornered by Bellatrix, who tried to interrogate him to find out the whereabouts of the missing Voldemort. He was tortured by the Crucifixion Curse until he lost his mind.

Almost identical to James's experience, Lupin sometimes even suspected that some kind of curse existed.

“Professor Lupin, as the second author of this treatment plan, you’ll need to help guide those Boggarts later, don’t just sit around slacking off,” Melvin said. “And you, Headmaster, president of the Order of the Phoenix, the most skilled wizard in this consultation, keep an eye on the patients’ condition for me.”

“Actually, I’m not very good at the False Memory Charm,” Dumbledore said.

“But you are a master of Legilimency. Boggarts and Dementors are creatures that learn about wizards’ thoughts and memories in a similar way. With your understanding of magic, you can easily master it with a little tweaking.”

A group of people ventured into the streets of the residential area and arrived at Professor Kettleburn's mansion.

Before Melvin could even make out whether the street name was Skunk or Snake, he saw Celtic Burne waiting at the door with a smile on his face, wearing a long robe and missing arms and legs. Behind him was the resolute-looking old lady Longbottom, still wearing the pointed wizard hat with a vulture specimen on her head, and her fox fur coat had holes from worms.

St. Mungo's Hospital also sent a therapist to take care of him. As Dumbledore requested, it was done without fanfare, only with the familiar Ms. Melanie Straw.

“The two patients, Frank and Alice, I added the Living Hell Potion to their lunch. They’ve been asleep ever since, and the effects should be wearing off soon,” Melanie said, getting straight to the point.

“Boggart prepared 17,” Celticburn added.

"Let's get started as soon as possible."

Dumbledore led the Hogwarts professors into the room, glanced around, and saw two patients lying on a wooden bed by the window. A dozen elm trunks were laid out on the floor, and they trembled restlessly as the wizard approached. "They're yours, Melvin."

All eyes were on Melvin, who didn't waste any time and quickly explained the setup:
"Gentlemen, we need your assistance with this treatment plan to excavate memories. Thirteen years ago, Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom suffered from the Cruciatus Curse for a long time, accumulating unbearable pain in their bodies and minds. Their damaged brains and twisted souls sealed that memory as a form of self-protection. I was inspired by a senior dark wizard. To excavate the sealed memory, we need to break down the barrier with equally unbearable pain."

“Boggarts are the tools we use to inflict pain,” Lupin added. “These dark creatures grow by drawing strength from fear and can recreate past experiences using false memory charms.”

“Replaying the experience, creating pain…” Neville couldn’t help but ask, “Should we use the Cruciatus Curse on Mom and Dad?”

Even though he knew this was the treatment plan discussed by the professors, he still couldn't bear it and quietly looked at the professors and the principal. Mrs. Longbottom opened her mouth, but hesitated to speak.

"It wasn't physical torture, but truly excruciating pain."

Melvin snapped his fingers, and the brass lock on the elm chest clicked repeatedly as the lock cylinder opened and closed, making Boggart inside even more restless.

The box closest to the door was opened first, and Bellatrix stepped out with a cruel and vicious smile on her lips. Everyone held their breath as Boggart's conjured wand emitted the red glow of the Crucifixion Curse.

“Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom have sealed that memory, and the Boggarts themselves cannot recreate it. We will use a false memory spell to guide them to relive the torture they suffered. On the other hand, I will try to awaken that memory using ancient magic. I hope you will try to induce strong emotional fluctuations in them.” Melvin looked at the Longbottoms.

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully: "You mean, let them witness Neville and Augusta being tortured?"

“Yes, I think inflicting physical pain might backfire, as their current physical condition is not good enough to withstand it. A mental blow, on the other hand, can cause deeper pain, enough to break through the memory barrier. If something goes wrong, it can be recovered with a forgetting spell.”

"Like filming a video program?"

Flitwick recalled the films he had seen before, and he remembered the encounter between Voldemort and Quirrell two years ago, which was also a pre-planned plot.

"Yes, we are behind the scenes, while Mrs. Longbottom and Neville are the actors on stage."

Everyone stepped back and disappeared into the shadows of the candlelight, including the four heads of the house. They gently tapped their wands in front of them, and the ripples of the Disillusionment Charm spread across their bodies, making them transparent.

Professor McGonagall's silhouette shrank rapidly, transforming into a tabby cat. She nimbly leaped onto the headboard, crouched there, and wrapped her tail around her two front paws.

"Professor Snape, please wake them up."

Melvin's voice echoed in the room. The professors present had all disappeared. Neville stood beside his grandmother, feeling a cool mist envelop him.

"Damn it, this is clearly the therapist's job."

Snape secretly grumbled, vaguely sensing Melvin's malice. Back when the two were being tortured, he was still a Death Eater, but now he was going to perform a stage play to heal them.

He took a porcelain plate out of his pocket, held it to the noses of the two patients, and shook it. The cool scent of mint wafted out, and the eyelids of the two patients trembled.

I opened my eyes, and a familiar yet unfamiliar face was right in front of me.

(End of this chapter)