Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 337 Easter Holiday

Night falls in the suburbs of London.

The wizard, with long black hair and a beard, wandered through the shadowy alleyways, occasionally glancing up at the surrounding houses. He carried a canvas bag full of Muggle food and was slender.

The gibbous moon that once shone over Knockturn Alley and the Ministry of Magic is now casting its soft light on a small square. In the center of the square is a messy, overgrown lawn, and the surrounding houses have gloomy, dilapidated facades.

Some houses had their windows smashed, gleaming dimly under the streetlights. Lush ivy climbed the exterior walls, the paint on many doors had peeled off, and the front steps of several houses were piled with garbage.

Sirius Black once lived in a square like this, but it wasn't this dilapidated back then. Many years ago, this was a bustling and lively area, but it fell into disrepair after the young people left.

Now only a few strange and eccentric people remain who refuse to move out.

Approaching the houses that are not yet covered by ivy, you can smell the pungent stench of rotting garbage, emanating from the bulging garbage bags piled up in front of the doors.

If you listen carefully, you can faintly hear the rumbling sound of a stereo system vibrating coming from inside the intact glass window.

“Number 11… Number 13…” Sirius approached carrying a bag.

The low murmur sounded like some kind of incantation. As soon as the words fell, an old, black door suddenly appeared out of nowhere between numbers 11 and 13. The paint on it was peeling and cracked, and it was dilapidated.

The silver door knocker, carved into a coiled snake, was a symbol of the pure-blood family's reverence for Slytherin, and their home décor often featured similar motifs. They... followed by the filthy exterior walls and the gloomy windows.

A house suddenly swelled up and appeared, pushing aside the houses on both sides, but the Muggles living inside seemed to notice nothing amiss, and the sound system continued to vibrate loudly.

Sirius Black drew his wand and tapped lightly on the door.

A crisp metallic clanging sound came from inside the door, followed by the rattling of the chain turning, though occasionally it sounded a bit rough.

"Squeak..."

The rusty copper hinges groaned under the strain as the door creaked open.

A damp, sweet-smelling stench wafted towards them, proof that mold and insects were quietly dismembering the old house. The entire house was dark and gloomy, making it almost impossible to see. Sirius tapped the wall with his wand, and the kerosene lamp on the wall lit up.

The light startled the local inhabitants, and rustling sounds came from under the wooden floorboards and inside the walls.

The old house, uninhabited for thirteen years, was infested with cockroaches, rats, and vixens. As a long-time resident, Sirius Black knew the place better than Sirius. Startled, Sirius burst out from a corner and quickly disappeared into the shadows.

On the wall directly opposite the entrance hall, there were two velvet curtains riddled with wormholes, which seemed to tremble in response to the noise in the room.

The curtain was drawn back, revealing a life-size replica of the oil painting portrait behind it.

The elderly witch, perhaps due to the oxidation of the pigments, appeared grayish, with yellowish skin.
"You beast! You slut! You filthy and sinful bastard!"

The old woman was merciless in her scolding, spitting as she spoke, her expression ferocious and furious.

Sirius glanced at her sideways, too lazy to pay her any attention, and walked past her without a care. When he saw more wizard portraits on the wall and the heads of house-elves displayed at the corner of the stairs, he couldn't help but shake his head.

“This old house is definitely not suitable for entertaining Melvin and Harry.”

Sirius muttered to himself, with a hint of regret, "When I was in school, I was thinking of inviting James and Remus to our house, showing them around the underground kitchen, introducing them to the various collections of the pure-blood family, and explaining the glorious history of the Black family..."

"Unfortunately, there will never be another chance."

"Tomorrow I'm going to Hogwarts to pick up Harry, and together we'll go to Godric's Hollow to pay our respects to James and Lily. We also need to clean up the Potter family's old house. We might not be back for the entire Easter holiday, so we'll have plenty of time to clean and tidy up... Kreacher, Kreacher!"

After calling out several times, footsteps slowly approached from the attic.

An old house-elf, wearing a dirty rag, was almost naked in other areas, with loose skin that looked several times larger than his body actually needed.

Its head was bald, with a few tufts of white hair growing from its ears. Its eyes were bloodshot, cloudy, and grayish. Its fleshy nose drooped softly over its chin.

That was Kreacher, the servant of the Black family. He lazily looked at the sole heir of the Black family, his nominal master, his gaze falling on the sign on the canvas bag—the mark of a Muggle supermarket.

Kreacher narrowed his eyes slightly.

That's why it hates this successor.

Sirius Black once enjoyed the wealth, honor, and magic flowing in his blood accumulated by his ancestors. According to the traditions of pure-blood families, he should add luster to this honor, be careful in his words and deeds, maintain the purity of his bloodline, and ensure that his ancestors' bloodline is not tainted.

But from the moment he entered Hogwarts, he was betraying the honor of the Black family, being sorted into the reckless and rude Gryffindor house, befriending half-bloods and Muggle-born people, getting involved with Muggle stuff, riding motorcycles, playing video games...

After graduation, he even preferred to stay at a classmate's house rather than leave the Blake House.

If it weren't for the kind hearts of the husband and wife, they would have removed Sirius from the family tree long ago.

"Kreacher, did you hear me?"

"..."

"Clean up the old house at home during the Easter holidays, and these food and drinks are for you."

"..."

"If you continue to pretend to be mute, I'll throw everything out of the old house and sell it as scrap!"

Spending too much time in Azkaban and occasionally adopting a prisoner's attitude can be surprisingly effective with certain difficult-to-communicate-with creatures.

“I understand…” Kreacher’s voice was hoarse and low, like the croaking of a bullfrog.

Sirius grinned and patted his bulging canvas bag: "Cheer up, Kreacher! At least you don't have to eat moldy cold bread anymore. Before you start work, you can have a normal hot meal! Don't talk about pure Muggle blood or anything like that. This is something the Ministry of Magic allows to be sold."

Kreacher remained somber, quietly clutching the ornament around his neck—a locket.

……

The first day of the Easter holiday, a leisurely morning.

In the Gryffindor common room, Harry stood somewhat awkwardly in the middle, holding a cookie in his hand and looking embarrassed.

Several figures stood around him, including his two friends Ron and Hermione, as well as George, Fred, and the twins' best friend Lee Jordan.

People came and went in the lounge, and many noticed the unusual combination, but they all kept a safe distance, wary of the cookie, and watched from afar, not daring to get too close.

Professor Levent recently sponsored a large sum of research funding for the Weasleys' Tricks Studio, turning inventions that previously only existed on blueprints into reality. However, the actual effects of the prank props still need to be tested with real people. George and Fred, with their notorious reputations, have to resort to trickery and deception, and a number of classmates have already fallen victim to their schemes.

The most serious incident occurred last night when the entire school was gathered in the auditorium for dessert after the Easter dinner. Angelina had drunk a few glasses of butterbeer and let her guard down. When she got the mango pudding, she asked George to help her hand over the frosting.

The result was icing mixed with nosebleed skipping candy.

In less than half a minute, blood gushed from both of Angelina's nostrils, startling the group of little witches and nearly causing a stampede.

He was taken directly to the school clinic, but after Ms. Pomfrey's examination, she could only rule out Quidditch injury and rhinitis, and could not find any other problems.

However, after Angelina calmed down and recalled the situation, she realized that she had been infected by eating pudding. George had helped by handing her the frosting, and she quickly identified the suspect.

Since it concerned school food safety, Professor McGonagall intervened. After learning the truth, she did not deduct any points from Gryffindor's grades, but punished the twins with a month of confinement, making them clean all the toilets in the school's washrooms with Filch.

Experiments with prank props are also restricted; students are not allowed to be tricked into using them, and volunteers must be informed and give their consent beforehand.

The twins didn't care about solitary confinement; they only cared about the effects of the skipping-class candy. This morning, they were looking for volunteers in the common room, deliberately acting pitiful. After begging all over Gryffindor, they finally found Harry.

At this moment, Ron was whispering, "George and Fred's 'skip school' products only produce symptoms, but no actual damage. Last night, Angelina had nasal glucose, and this one is a vomiting gummy. It will cause vomiting symptoms after you eat it. You didn't eat breakfast this morning, so you shouldn't be able to vomit anything."

"Should?" Harry repeated.

"It's hard to say," Ron said, also somewhat expectant. "Maybe you still have some undigested food from your dinner, which might be left in your stomach and you might throw it up later."

“Eh…” Harry began to regret it.

Last night, because of the upcoming Easter holiday, I was thinking about the trip to Godric's Valley. I stayed up until 2 a.m. and had some bizarre dreams. When I woke up this morning, my head was still foggy. I couldn't resist their persistent persuasion and agreed to go without really thinking about it.

"Don't overthink it, Harry. Once you've tested the effects of the skipping candy, George and Fred will supply it for free from now on. If you encounter Snape's harassment again, you can pretend to be sick to skip class."

"Should I pretend to be sick in front of the Potions professor?"

Harry thought for a moment and asked, taking a pessimistic view. He felt that Snape could undo the effects of the truancy candy on the spot and add some new poison while he was at it.

"Give it a try!" George urged from the side.

“We won’t let you suffocate by your vomit blocking your airway,” Fred shouted.

More and more students were gathering around the perimeter, including the Crevy brothers from the lower grades and Quidditch players from the upper grades. On the first day of the Easter holiday, everyone wanted to have some fun.

Harry steeled himself, ready to grit his teeth and swallow the vomit bomb, when he suddenly heard Seamus shout:

"Professor McGonagall is here! And Professor Levente is here too!"

The break room erupted into chaos as the students who had been watching scattered in all directions.

Harry and his friends were trapped in the middle. Some breathed a sigh of relief, while others were terrified. Only when the surrounding classmates had completely dispersed did they hurriedly start moving. Fred snatched the vomit gummies and hid them, while the others stood in a row.

Melvin surveyed the furnishings of the Gryphon Academy lounge, his gaze finally settling on the students' lowered heads, finding them rather amusing, like trembling quails.

Professor McGonagall walked over to them, glanced at the twins indifferently, pursed her lips, and turned to her Seeker: "Harry, come with me, Sirius Black is here to pick you up."

"Ok."

Harry followed Professor McGonagall out, and before emerging from the portrait hole, he turned back and made a face at the group.

Ron was a little disappointed that he didn't get to see the effects of the vomiting softballs, and he was also missing a playmate during the Easter holidays.

George and Fred exchanged a glance and winked in celebration. Since Professor McGonagall hadn't pursued the matter, the matter was over.

Hermione tilted her head slightly, looking at the young professor who remained in the lounge, her fair eyes full of curiosity: "Professor Levent, what brings you here?"

“I’m looking for George and Fred.”

Melvin looked at the two lively twin brothers: "Remember when you were going to intern at a Muggle factory this summer? You needed to get identity documents, birth certificates, medical cards... Were you both over 16?"

George and Fred exclaimed excitedly in unison, "It was my birthday two days ago!"

“Then we can get a National Insurance number.” Melvin turned and walked toward the portrait cave.

George and Fred followed happily behind.

The three of them arrived at the office. The twin brothers seemed a little nervous. The Muggle factory and Muggle identification were completely unknown experiences for them. However, Arthur often talked about Muggle society in the Burrow, which gave them some confidence.

"To be clear, these identification documents are not forged."

Melvin's first words immediately put the two of them to their senses.

"The Ministry of Magic and the Muggle government have recently been engaged in business cooperation. Your identities and summer internship arrangements were all arranged under the guise of an inspection."

Melvin handed over a few sheets of A4 paper: "Fill out a few forms first."

George and Fred looked at the paper, which was completely different from parchment, and were also curious about the words on it: "Professor, what is a birth certificate?"

“Similar to the Hogwarts Admissions Book, when each Muggle is born, the local hospital registers their detailed information, recording their date of birth and place of birth,” Melvin replied casually.

"And what is the insurance number?"

“Every Muggle over the age of 16 has a number that serves as a fundamental identifier for employment, taxation, and access to benefits.”

"Driver's license...we know that!"

George's expression brightened: "When Dad was modifying that car, he mentioned that, just like our Apparition license, you can't drive it without a license. The professor was targeted by Umbridge last time because he Apparated without a license!"

Fred's eyes lit up too: "Professor, you don't have an Apparition license, but you must have a driver's license, right? Can we see it?"

Melvin: ...

You seem to be being a bit offensive.

(End of this chapter)