Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 342 Disguise Failed, Infiltration Successful

The plump otter floated in the air, emitting a silvery-white glow. Its limbs moved lightly, and even though it was in mid-air, ripples still spread around it, and the shimmering silver light enveloped the Dementor.

Having gone without food for a long time and separated from the group, the Dementors were imprisoned in place.

Hermione, suppressing her exhaustion, looked again at the skeletal creature beneath the hood, especially its empty eye sockets, for Legilimency required eye contact to activate.

"Seizing the mind and grasping thoughts..."

The little witch silently chanted the spell in her heart, focused her gaze, and magic enveloped her consciousness, flowing along her line of sight like invisible tentacles reaching into another dimension, finally disappearing into the Dementor's eye socket.

The candlelight shone into the Dementor's empty eye sockets, revealing only two grayish-white shadows, with a faint, almost imperceptible glow.

Hermione's body trembled slightly as the Dementor's face appeared in her mind, its skin glowing with a faint white light and exuding a cold, hard chill.

"I've heard that there are also true Legilimency beings who are born with the ability to see into other people's minds without any spells or wands."

Hermione was clearly not the kind of wizard with the talent of Legilimency. She had tried repeatedly before, but still hadn't captured any useful emotions. She had seen the gaze of true Legilimency masters: Professor Levent, Professor Snape, and Headmaster Dumbledore...

That kind of gaze is extremely penetrating; it can read the other person's heart in a single glance.

She could only repeat this process again and again, trying to capture some subtle changes and interpret them.

Hermione's consciousness entered the Dementor's head with the power of Legilimency, going deeper and deeper, as if trying to probe into the depths of that empty soul.

Her senses traveled through the Dementor's cloak, leaving magical traces in their wake.

Hermione opened her eyes, which shimmered with an almost transparent silver light. She used her magical senses to examine the Dementors. In her perception, Dementors were soulless, lifeless shells, and within those almost inanimate bodies emanated a faint but ominous magical power.

The little snake on the table raised its head, hissing and flicking its tongue. Yulm sensed Hermione's magic weakening, and her speed slowed rapidly.

This is because of a lapse in concentration and the onset of drowsiness.

The little witch's face became serene, her bright eyes lowered slightly, the otters swimming around her became lazy, their paddling movements became slower and slower, and their silvery bodies became dimmer and dimmer, eventually turning into fragments of silver light that fell to the ground and disappeared.

Just as she was about to fall asleep, a sudden chill erupted, and magic swept back in a counter-current.

Hermione shivered, the drowsiness that had gripped her vanished instantly, her body reacting faster than her mind, instinctively waving her wand:
"Call upon God for protection..."

But the Dementor had already broken free of its restraints and was right in front of her. Hermione watched as the Dementor's mouthparts moved, taking a deep, slow, and trembling breath, as if it wanted to suck the air out of the room.

Hermione couldn't finish the spell. The intense cold made her teeth chatter, and a dizzying sensation, like low blood sugar, washed over her. Her consciousness gradually sank into the gray fog.

The little witch let out a muffled groan as her remaining consciousness faded: "Oh no, the professor is so irresponsible..."

Just as he was about to fall into a coma, the long-horned water snake on the table suddenly moved!
Suddenly, the coiled-up Yulm sprang forward, its gleaming tail abruptly rising, its gray-white scales whistling through the air as it lashed out like a whip.

The snake, which was only slightly thicker than a finger, produced a deafening roar as it swung its tail, slamming into the Dementor's head with a whooshing sound.

The sound of tearing cloth and shattering bones rang out simultaneously, crisp and melodious. The Dementor was just about to eagerly enjoy the long-awaited delicacy, so it didn't have time to react at all before being whipped away by the snake's tail. The entire Dementor crashed into the wall like a broken sack, almost embedded in it.

Hermione blinked, looking completely bewildered.

It turned out that Jourm was a teaching assistant left behind by the professor, something she had never expected!

The sudden accident, like a question posed in class, jolted the little witch awake from her drowsy state. She gripped her wand tightly and summoned her Patronus again, slowly approaching the Dementor embedded in the wall. Its pale, withered body didn't look so sinister in the candlelight.

While remaining on guard, they observed the Dementors' condition.

These dark creatures are different from ghosts. They have a tangible physical form, yet they are lighter than any known magical material. They have no wings, no flight magic, and can float in the wind simply by stirring up the white mist around them.

Their light, soft yet tough shells make them immune to physical attacks like sword strikes and unaffected by magic such as fire spells and cutting spells; only guardian spells can harm them.

This peculiar creature was rendered unable to get up by a single lash from Yhorm's tail.

Hermione extended her magical senses again, not immediately penetrating deep into the interior through her eye sockets, but lingering at the edges. She could clearly feel some white mist rapidly dissipating from the Dementor, its breathing seemed to become weak, and the pulsation of its mouthparts was barely perceptible.

The faint light in the almost skull-like eye sockets grew even dimmer.

For some reason, Hermione felt that her Legilimency was working; she sensed some emotions from the Dementors, emotions she could understand.

"It feels...wronged now?" Hermione was both amused and exasperated.

……

The waves outside came and went.

In the lounge of the Heart Fortress on Azkaban, the still-shaken little witch held a teacup, sipping warm pumpkin juice, with a small snake coiled in front of her.

A faint white mist lingered in the corner opposite the room. The severely injured Dementor was in a state never before seen, as if it were on the verge of death or healing itself. Its cloak was tattered and barely held up its corpse-like body.

Hermione carefully recalled her insights from Legilimency, but gained very little and her progress was truly worrying. This was her first time encountering such magic, and her practice subject was a non-human creature.

The professor is still out herding livestock and hasn't returned yet.

Hermione recounted the paper about Azkaban to Eulem, comparing its contents with what she had actually seen: Sirius Black had escaped a year ago, transforming into a black dog and swimming across the entire North Sea; Peter Pettigrew had escaped a few weeks earlier and was still missing.

"The professor seems to know a lot of secrets, but he always keeps them from us, telling us to investigate ourselves, or to tell us when he can't keep it a secret any longer."

Hermione chattered on to the little snake in front of her: "Yorm, you're a longhorned water snake too, can you see emotions? Do you longhorned water snakes have some kind of pact with Professor Levent, protecting each other like a phoenix and Dumbledore...?"

"Is the longhorned water serpent also related to Slytherin? You dwell in Greylock Hill, and Iso Thale, a descendant of Slytherin, left that wand there. Professor Levent's ring bears the mark of Slytherin..."

The little snake's eyes were round and unreadable; it was unclear whether it had understood.

Hermione chuckled twice. "I noticed it when I was in first year. It was my birthday, and the professor gave me candy. I didn't know about the Unseen Stretching Charm back then, and I thought the ring was some kind of magical item. But the scene turned into your snake nest." Yhorm's tail wagged occasionally as he listened to the little witch's words, saying only a few words here and there.

She was curious about the connection between the longhorned water snake and Melvin, about the story of Voldemort's parents, and about the state of the Dementors.

Yulm yawned lazily, squinted at Hermione, and looked at her with a hint of unease as she seemed about to continue.

After a moment's thought, Yulm turned back to his head, grabbed a loose scale from his tail, tugged at it, and easily pulled it off, handing it to the dumbfounded little witch.

"This..." Hermione was shocked.

Yulm wagged its tail nonchalantly.

It's okay, snake scales are meant to fall off during the molting period.

……

"Did you know that it's also against school rules for professors to go out at night without permission?" Professor McGonagall said in a serious tone.

Trelawney, her round-framed glasses askew, leaned dejectedly against the corner of the sixth-floor staircase. Aberforth, his back straight, stood against the wall, his posture and expression somewhat stiff, his mind racing.

Aberforth hadn't expected that before he could even coax the tour guide into leading the way, he would run into Professor McGonagall coming down from upstairs. Somewhat bewildered, he stammered, "Mc...Milleva, Sybil, she..."

Professor McGonagall stepped closer, glanced at him quickly, said nothing, and went to Trelawney.

The strong smell of alcohol hit the nose, and the clean-loving vice principal couldn't help but frown in disgust.

Trelawney noticed the change in her eyes and felt wronged: "Oh, Minerva, I know, you've always wanted to get rid of me, and you also wanted to cancel the Divination class and leave the time for Melvin's Muggle research."

"..." Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and looked at her with a deep gaze.

“You can’t do this! I’ve been teaching at Hogwarts for over a decade, and this place is like my home!” Perhaps due to the influence of alcohol, Trelawney was incoherent at this moment, her true feelings revealed, and her voice was somewhat choked with emotion.

Professor McGonagall pressed her lips together even tighter, paused for a moment, and then pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve: "Alright, Sybil, I didn't say that, and none of us have thought that, especially Melvin, who already complains about having too many courses now."

"Oh, really, Professor McGonagall?"

“I swear, I did not lie.”

“Hey…” Trelawney laughed happily, took the handkerchief, and blew her nose hard.

Professor McGonagall turned her head away in disgust, looking at him with disdain: "Go back and get a good night's sleep, and think about how to make your classes more interesting, instead of showing off those charlatan tricks, scaring students, and then getting fooled on assignments and exams!"

“Oh…” Trelawney nodded obediently, clutching her handkerchief as she left.

Professor McGonagall turned around, gave Aberforth a complicated look, and glanced at the stairs: "Let's go to the principal's office. You two need to have a serious talk."

Aberforth paused for a moment, realizing that this must be someone talking to him.

It seems they didn't see through his disguise?
He saw that the witch did not wait for a response and started going upstairs on her own. He recalled the patrons' evaluation of the Transfiguration professor: strict yet loving, the true pillar of Hogwarts.

Following behind the vice principal, the stairs beneath our feet seemed to become gentler. Wherever we went, there was a spiral staircase to meet us and take us to the next platform. The transitions were seamless, without any waiting time or concern about the rotation pattern.

As Aberforth spiraled up the stairs, he glanced around and suddenly realized that it was a beautiful night. The bright full moon rose above the clouds and streamed in through the castle windows, casting clear, water-like shadows on the corridor. The whole castle was serene.

But it's too quiet here.

As a tavern owner, Aberforth was used to the tavern's noise. This castle, this tower, and these strange staircases made him feel only silence and emptiness, like a prison.

"The Easter holidays are over. After sending out Easter eggs and candy, it's time to start preparing Christmas gifts. A centenarian wizard lives a long life, knows many friends, and needs to prepare many gifts." Professor McGonagall was slightly ahead, only the back of her head could be seen. It was already late at night, but her hair was still neatly styled, only with a few gray hairs mixed in.

"me?"

Aberforth, thinking his disguise hadn't been seen through, couldn't help but feel a little smug. He nodded and said in a low voice, "I understand."

"..."

Professor McGonagall turned from one staircase to another, glancing back at him with a complex and enigmatic look in her eyes: "Every year when the topic of Christmas gifts comes up, the principal always jokingly says he wants warm wool socks, not all sorts of obscure and profound books."

"Oh, really?"

“We colleagues heard it so many times that we remembered it. We had all given him wool socks and sweaters before, but the principal always seemed happy. However, we could all sense that he wasn’t really that happy. We guessed that the pattern was wrong, or the stitching was wrong…”

Abu Fusi's mind raced as he pondered the meaning of these words.

It sounded like casual conversation, but also like some kind of hint, and the tone was strange... Did she really not see through this disguise?

"Later we all figured it out: it wasn't the wool socks that were wrong, it was the person who delivered them who was wrong."

Unbeknownst to them, they had already reached the eighth floor. Turning right at the fork in the road, they crossed the corridor and came to a standstill before two monstrous statues. Professor McGonagall stopped, looking directly into those deep blue eyes: "Mr. Aberforth Dumbledore, I think you should have a proper talk. Albus, he..."

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, then hesitated, saying, "We just finished discussing finances ten minutes ago. He's still awake. You can think it over carefully before you go in."

“Okay...Minerva.”

So it was discovered from the very beginning.

Aberforth answered hastily, recalling the self-righteous pretenses he had made on the way, and for no reason felt a slight flush on his face.
Watching her figure disappear around the corner, Aberforth turned back to look at the office. The door was carved from oak, and two monster statues stood in front of it. The style was incongruous, lacking the expected gilded and diamond-encrusted luxury.

As he approached the door, ready to knock, Abu Fors suddenly hesitated.

(End of this chapter)