Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 276 Late Night Conversation
Orange flames roared in the fireplace.

In the guest room on the third floor of the tavern, a faint aroma of wine and sweet scent filled the air. Realizing that the students were safe and sound, the tense atmosphere gradually relaxed, and the meeting turned into a regular gathering, with the conversation becoming like ordinary casual chat.

Several deans sat on either side of the square table, while other professors sat opposite them. There were a few empty seats left. Harry, Harry, and his two companions in the middle gradually relaxed, but they could still feel the gazes from both sides. They kept their backs straight and dared not relax their posture.

Not long ago, Lupin and Snape escorted the three of them from the alleyway to the tavern, taking them straight up to the third floor where the other professors chatted. After a thorough examination and treatment with the tavern's usual medicines, the wounds on their wrists and foreheads, which hadn't broken the skin, were healed quickly without much effort, and the claw marks on their chests were now just a few faint lines.

The wound wasn't deep, so White Elixir wasn't needed. However, it broke the skin, and regular potions and healing spells wouldn't be able to heal it completely. Flitwick's simple treatment could only make the wound scab over quickly to prevent pain. It would probably itch a bit as it healed.

The other professors were still discussing the reasons for the black dog attack.

Hermione hugged Crookshanks, pointed at its nose and muttered a complaint: Ron wouldn't have been attacked if Harry and she hadn't both gone after the cat.

At this moment, Lupin leaned closer to Ron and whispered, "The reason why the black dog attacked you is still uncertain. It may have been manipulated by a dark wizard, or influenced by some kind of dark magic. It's also possible that you are under some kind of curse. Ron, I want to examine the claw marks on your chest again to completely rule out the influence of a curse."

“Rule it out, Professor, please rule it out!” Ron nodded hurriedly.

“It’s not necessarily a curse, it’s just a possibility,” Lupin reassured her. “I’m just doing this in case.”

Watching Ron loosen his tie and pull down his collar to reveal a few shallow scratches, Lupin pretended to perform a spell to check, but actually he was paying attention to other marks: "You just said that you usually carry your pet in your chest?"

“Sometimes I put it in my pocket, but lately that stinky cat keeps staring at Banban, so I've been hiding Banban close to my chest for protection. It's very well-behaved…”

"is it?"

Lupin gave a casual reply, saying that if the werewolf disease had any benefits, it was probably that it enhanced his sense of hearing and smell, allowing him to detect traces that ordinary wizards could not detect.

The black dog didn't leave any obvious scent during their brief contact, but Banban and Ron had been snuggling together for a long time, and their scents had become intertwined. It wasn't noticeable from a distance, but once they got closer, the traces left by the rat became clear.

It was faint, almost imperceptible, similar to the scent of an old friend from over a decade ago, but with an added hint of decay and aging.

Is it an insect's tail?
Lupin wasn't entirely sure either. He only felt that it was similar. Too much time had passed, and the appearance of the insect's tail in his memory had become somewhat blurry, and the smell was even harder to recall.

If it's Wormtail, and he really didn't die, what has he been doing lurking in the Weasley family for so many years?
What is Bigfoot's intention?
Lupin's gaze dimmed, his thoughts in turmoil. He glanced up at Melvin not far away, his lips pressed together. For some subtle and particular reason, he still did not intend to reveal the secret of the Animagus to his other colleagues.

He couldn't explain why.

“There’s no trace of dark magic. Go back and ask Madam Pomfrey for some ointment. Apply it and you’ll be cured,” Lupin said calmly, withdrawing his gaze.

"That's good!"

Ron was delighted, but then he felt frustrated when he remembered that he had never beaten a black dog.

Watching their exchange, Snape scrutinized Lupin's expression.

That face was still somewhat thin, with a slight furrow in its brow, and its hypocritical demeanor was repulsive.

Initially, Flitwick, Snape, and he examined the injury together and determined that there was no problem. However, this man examined it separately afterward and had that hesitant expression, clearly indicating that he was hiding something.

"What is it...?" Snape's eyes were unfathomable.

Melvin sat in the back, quietly sipping his mead. He glanced at the sullen Ron, then at the cat in the little witch's arms, and quickly pieced together the clues to uncover the truth behind the attack.

With Lupin still struggling with his own issues and Snape harboring growing suspicions, they are getting closer and closer to the truth of that night, and things are starting to get interesting.

Just then, a series of footsteps came from outside the door, about two or three people. One of them had particularly heavy footsteps, like the sound of hard-soled boots made of dragon skin. They came from afar and soon arrived at the door.

A knock sounded at the door, and Melvin snapped his fingers to open it. There were three figures outside. In front were two witches, one youthful and beautiful, the other voluptuous and graceful. Behind them stood a burly half-giant, dressed in a mole fur coat and carrying a small pink umbrella.

“Ms. Rosmerta, Tonks, and Hagrid, you’re here too,” Sprout greeted cheerfully.

Ron glanced furtively at the tavern owner, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“Rosmerta asked some of the patrons, and Tonks contacted his patrol colleagues.” Hagrid waved goodbye. “I went to the Pig’s Head pub at the village entrance.”

They entered the reception room, where the light from the fireplace and candles dispelled the chill. They found seats, took a sip of the prepared butterbeer, and let out a long sigh of relief, finally relaxing.

The professors in the room stopped talking and waited for the results of their investigation. Ms. Rosmerta was a friend of Hogwarts, and Tonks had only graduated two years ago. All three were trustworthy.

"The owner of the Pighead Bar said no strange wizards have come to Hogsmeade recently." As Hagrid sat down, half of the sofa collapsed.

Tonks and Rosmerta exchanged a glance: "The bar patrons and my colleagues have all seen the black stray dog, but it was very well-behaved and showed no intention of attacking anyone."

"Could it really be an accident?" Professor McGonagall pressed her lips into a straight line.

“Maybe it was triggered by the Dementors…” Sprout wasn’t sure either.

Flitwick looked up, his voice sharp yet steady: "Melvin, do you think it could be rabies?"

“Probably not,” Melvin said helplessly. “A stray dog ​​infected with rabies won’t be docile and won’t distinguish its target. It will pounce on anyone it sees. Those rabid dogs are very conspicuous, and residents can’t possibly ignore them.”

Ms. Rosmerta suggested, "Here's a mirror; let's extract Ron's memories and show them to everyone."

Ron's expression froze, then a wave of intense shame washed over him. The memory of never having hit a stray dog ​​was being replayed in front of all the professors, in front of Ms. Rosmerta—what was the difference between this and a public execution?

"Great idea!" Flitwick and Sprout's eyes lit up.

Professor McGonagall nodded in agreement: "It concerns student safety, so it's always good to be cautious."

"..."

Didn't anyone ask the person involved for their opinion?
Ron's eyes widened, and his face flushed red.

Unfortunately, no one asked for his opinion. Flitwick patted him on the shoulder to comfort him and pressed his wand against his forehead: "Ron, you should have experienced this before. There's no loss, it doesn't hurt or itch."

A strand of silver hair was drawn from the temple and floated into the silver mirror beside the fireplace, where the scene from that time appeared in the misty clouds.

The first attack was a surprise attack by the black dog. Ron hastily threw out the candy, buying himself the opportunity to reach for his wand.

The second attack was a head-on duel. Ron didn't even have time to cast a spell before his wand was knocked away, his head collided with the black dog's head, and his vision went black.

Ron's face flushed red. He glanced at Ms. Rosmerta, who had a half-smile on her face, and slowly slumped down.

This is truly embarrassing. A third-year student, a fourteen-year-old wizard, was knocked unconscious in two blows by a stray dog. All those dueling lessons were for nothing.

“It really is just a stray dog.” Flitwick’s shrill voice echoed in the room. He suddenly felt that he had failed in his duty as a professor and that the dueling class was completely useless.

“Probably.” Lupin’s expression was indifferent, and no emotion could be seen on his face. “It’s probably just a stray dog ​​being mischievous and wanting to play with him.”

It's confirmed, it's Sirius!

It was this black dog, along with a deer and a rat, that the raiders used to accompany the werewolves on the nights of the full moon as they studied.

Harry's eyes widened. He seemed to have seen this kind of black dog before—on Privet Drive, in Diagon Alley, in the bushes of the Forbidden Forest. But all black dogs in the world looked pretty much the same, and he wasn't sure if these were the same black dog.

He was conflicted, unsure whether he should tell the professors.

After all, it was Ron who was attacked, not him. Also, it could be the psychology Professor Levent had talked about. It's like when a pregnant woman goes shopping; she wouldn't have paid attention before, but after becoming pregnant, she would notice other pregnant women. He had seen ominous signs in his divination class, so he always kept an eye on black dogs in his life.

He unconsciously glanced at Professor Levent beside him.

Melvin noticed his gaze, and although he wasn't quite sure what he was thinking at that moment, it didn't stop him from smiling.

……

The Hogwarts students and teachers walked along the path that ran across the grounds. Harry lagged behind, his steps slow and his mind in turmoil. He suddenly realized that the day was over just like that. He hadn't even been to Zonko's Joke Shop or Quidditch Shop yet. He was confused and bewildered.

“Melvin, how did you find out about James…the Marauders?” Lupin asked in a low voice.

During their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class, they had all demonstrated how to deal with Boggarts. Lupin recalled that Melvin was an expert in Occlumency and the False Memory Charm, and demonstrated four animals: a werewolf and his three Animagus friends.

Lupin hadn't thought about it before, but now it suddenly dawned on him that the professors might have told Melvin about his werewolf disease, but the professors didn't know anything about Wormtail's Animagus, so how did Melvin find out?

"It's a secret. I'll tell you when the time is right."

Melvin winked knowingly, looking just like some white-bearded old wizard.

"James?"

His father's name.

Harry's heart skipped a beat. He felt that Professor Lupin's behavior was a bit strange. He was silent in the tavern and on the street, as if he had something on his mind. He remembered that he had asked about the truth several times before, but all of them had been in vain.

He had a feeling that now that the professors were all gathered here, there might be an opportunity.

“Professor…” He took a deep breath and looked up, his voice clear enough for the professors in front and behind him to hear, “I still want to know the whole truth about my parents’ deaths.”

These words seemed to magically freeze the relaxed atmosphere. The professor, who was walking ahead, turned around. Hagrid stared blankly at Harry, and his two friends also looked puzzled, wondering why this was being brought up now.

"Professor Levent told me the general outline of what happened back then, but I want to know more details."

"..."

Melvin chuckled silently: "Harry isn't an ordinary kid; I think he should know these things."

Hagrid walked over and ruffled his hair. The professors' eyes showed complex expressions, a mixture of pity and affection... Then came several sighs, soft and drawn-out, their faces contorted with emotion.

Harry got to hear more details about what happened back then.

"Back then, four Gryffindor students formed a small group, including Remus and Sirius Black, but the core of the group was your father and Sirius Black. They were a great pair, like George and Fred, always inseparable, both very intelligent, and also very good at getting into trouble..."

"Potter trusted Black more than he trusted any other friend, and that trust remained until graduation. Black was the best man at your parents' wedding, and then they called Black Harry's godfather..."

"...During the most intense period of the war, they used the Faithful Charm. James told Dumbledore that Black would rather die than reveal their location. He insisted on using Black, and then..."

Even after Harry returned to the Great Hall and sat at the High Table, he could still hear Hagrid's angry curses.

"I was the last person to see him before he killed so many people! I pulled Harry out of that pile of rubble after James and Lily died! Poor little thing, with a long scar on his forehead, and your parents are both..."

Then Sirius Black appeared, riding his usual motorcycle. I had no idea what he was doing there. I didn't know he was James and Lily's secret agent at the time. I thought he had heard about the Mystic attack and was going there to see what he could do.

"I remember he was pale and trembling. I didn't know he was grieving for the mysterious man. I even comforted the traitor who committed murder!"

He even hypocritically said, "Give me Harry, Hagrid. I'm his godfather, and I'll take care of him."

"Pah! I bet if I had handed Harry over back then, he would have thrown him into the sea halfway there!"

The dinner was very lavish, and the Great Hall was decorated in a very atmospheric way, but Harry had no recollection of it at all. He didn't know how he managed to eat, how he dealt with his friends' concern, or how he got back to his dormitory.

He lay in bed, the ticking of the clock echoing in his ears, mixed with the professors' lectures. When he closed his eyes, he could almost see his father's body lying on the ground, and his mother pleading with a dark figure.

"..."

Harry suddenly sat up. He couldn't sleep; there was a fire burning inside him that he had to let out.

His roommates were all fast asleep; Neville was snoring softly, and Ron was muttering in his sleep. Harry put on his Invisibility Cloak, tiptoed out of the dormitory, walked down the stairs, through the common room, and climbed over the portrait hole.

"Meow?"

Crookshan was still awake, lying in front of the fireplace, seemingly smelling something, and curiously peering over.

"Which naughty boy is it this time?" the fat lady asked angrily.

Harry didn't say a word, but walked briskly through the corridor, down the stairs, and all the way to Professor Levent's office.

The lights are already off.

He hesitated for a moment, then turned and walked toward Professor Lu Ping's office.

The room lights were still on, and a faint light shone through the cracks in the doors. If you listened closely, you could hear people talking inside, and their voices sounded very familiar.

Harry held his breath and his eyes widened.

Although his grades weren't great, he was close to most of the professors. He wouldn't have been so terrified if it were any other professor's voice, but those cold words came from Snape's mouth.

“I asked Melvin to be my witness; this was not an interrogation motivated by personal grudges.”

Snape's voice came through the crack in the door, chilling and sinister, "Don't try to hide it, Lupin. You still have to drink the medicine I brewed. You don't want to taste the truth serum in there!"

(End of this chapter)