Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 346 Teachers and Students During the Holiday

Hogwarts, outside the Forbidden Forest.

The door to the wooden cabin guarding the hunting grounds was locked tightly with a reverse-lock spell.

"boom……"

A slight popping sound.

Strands of silvery-white light spilled out in all directions, as smooth as silk, draped over the Dementor's cloak, and made a dull sound.

Compared to the magic of the Guardian Charm, it was more like the impact that repelled the Dementors.

The Dementor glanced at the tightly closed doors and windows, then at the indifferent witch beside it, and slid off the wall in despair.

The practice area was set up here at Hagrid's insistence. After all, Hermione didn't want to come into close contact with Dementors, given that they were using Level 5X dangerous creatures as teaching aids. To avoid a repeat of the incident in the Room of Requirement, she needed a reliable teaching assistant.

A certain gamekeeper needs to practice the Patronus Charm, but as the professor of the Magical Creatures Protection class, he is embarrassed to participate in the Duel Club practice with his students.

So the two hit it off immediately. Hagrid provided the venue and care, while Hermione provided teaching aids and guidance. This was what Professor Levent often referred to as a win-win situation.

Hermione stood there, lost in thought.

As an invisible spell that uses the gaze to perceive emotions, Legilimency has no limitations in its practice. Unlike dueling practice where you take turns facing Hagrid, Hermione's Patronus Charm can actually help her break through the Dementor's defenses and penetrate into its empty head.

After a period of repeated practice, and with the help of the Yhorm scales, she has accumulated some skill in Legilimency.

However, it's still a long way from truly mastering it.

Legilimency is extremely difficult, and she doesn't have any special talent in it. In addition, the structure of a Dementor's head and soul is very special, making her progress in practicing it very slow.

In comparison, Hagrid is very talented with the Patronus Charm, has an optimistic and kind personality, and can be happy for half a day just by encountering a few birds. He and Axe can patrol around the Forbidden Forest twice, and every place in the Forbidden Forest can become a happy memory.

However, he was expelled as a teenager, his wand was broken, and he did not receive systematic magical training. Casting such advanced magic still requires a long and arduous period of practice.

Patronus Charm

The half-giant mumbled a spell.

The tip of the staff emitted wisps of silver light, dazzling in the dim room, and struck the Dementor again, sending the weakened dark creature flying backward, the accompanying white mist growing even thinner.

"Hermione, did you see any animal shapes in these enchanted lights?" Hagrid turned around and asked eagerly.

Hermione hesitated for a moment: "Not at the moment."

"Then I'll continue practicing."

Hagrid shook his wand again, muttering to himself, "Maybe I should choose a happier memory: Toothfling falling into Pomona's dragon dung heap, Aragog and Mossag getting married, receiving my acceptance letter and lifting my dad onto the wardrobe..."

The burly, half-giant's mind was filled with happy memories.

Hermione continued to get busy.

For forty minutes, the two tormented the Dementor both physically and mentally. The dull thud of silver light hitting the cloak never stopped, and faint but keen magic seeped into his head through his eye sockets.

"Hatred...anger...exhaustion?"

A variety of unpredictable emotions flashed through my mind.

Dementors are monsters conceived from various negative emotions. It is necessary to distinguish which emotions are within the body and which are the Dementor's true emotions.

Although Hermione still has difficulty distinguishing them, her spellcasting skills are more proficient than yesterday, and she can sense her own progress.

As darkness fell, Hermione stopped the practice, put the Dementors back into their scales, picked up her satchel, and returned to the castle with Hagrid.

……

As the sun set, its afterglow shone on the outer walls of Hogwarts, contrasting with the verdant hills of late spring, creating a particularly pleasant atmosphere. Before long, the two, teacher and student, arrived at the entrance hall.

There was still some time before dinner, and the auditorium was bustling with activity, with students scattered in twos and threes in the courtyard and corridors.

Hearing the sharp, vicious curses coming from the hallway, Hermione paused, and Hagrid frowned. Had Gryffindor and Slytherin clashed again? Someone was using such foul language.

As they rounded a bend, the cursing grew clearer, but it wasn't a dispute between houses; rather, it was an internal conflict within Slytherin.

"Who gave you the guts! Who told you to do that!"

Pansy Parkinson's face flushed red, and the freckles on her cheeks looked somewhat ferocious due to her distorted expression: "You've taken matters into your own hands! Daphne, you should know your place!"

Both the one who was swearing and the one who was being sweared at were third-year Slytherin girls. Pansy Parkinson had a pointed face and slightly high cheekbones. I always remembered her with her mouth turned down, carrying a subtle sarcasm.

Daphne Greengrass wasn't particularly beautiful, and she was taller than Pansy, but at this moment she was being scolded so badly that she couldn't lift her head, her head drooping and her face extremely pale.

Hearing the man's hysterical insults, Hermione's fair brows furrowed, and Hagrid clenched his fists.

"Who do you think you are! Your parents should come and see what kind of witch they raised!"

"Oh, I forgot, your parents don't care about you, they only care about your sister!"

"..." Daphne's face was almost bloodless, and she pursed her lips, not daring to refute.

Despite being from pure-blood families, the Parkinson family's wealth and power give them an advantage due to the distorted hierarchy within the academy. Pansy is the absolute center of attention among the girls, while Daphne is just an inconspicuous follower.

Given Hermione and Hagrid's status, they shouldn't interfere in this conflict between pure-blood witches of Slytherin; it would only cause trouble, and Daphne might not even appreciate it.

But they walked straight past, separating Pansy and Daphne. Hagrid stepped forward, looking down at the young but wicked witch:

"What are you doing here? What kind of swearing are you spouting? Get out of here right now, or I'll call Professor Snape and you'll all be locked up for two weeks!"

Hermione nodded in agreement: "If she did something wrong, you can report it to the professor instead of blocking the hallway and verbally abusing her!"

Pansy raised her head, her gaze slowly sweeping over the face of the half-giant, then looking at Hermione beside her, her eyes narrowing slightly, a hint of disdain flashing across them.

"Nobody asked you, you stinky thing..."

Pansy paused, then mouthed without uttering a sound: "Little Mudblood."

Hermione was no longer a freshman at magic school. In the past two years, she had come into contact with many pure-bloods and, under the influence of her professors, had read many books on folklore, so she knew that this was an extremely offensive and discriminatory term.

If you report this to Professor McGonagall, he can be confined until the end of the semester and made to clean all the toilets in the school's washrooms until he's covered in the stench of sewage.

But this Pansy was cunning; she only mouthed the words without making a sound.

Hagrid couldn't see it from his angle, so there was no one to testify. "..."

There's no evidence for the report, so we need to teach her a lesson in another way.

Hermione stared into Parkinson's eyes, his brown pupils gleaming.

“Look… what are you looking at?” Pansy’s tongue seemed to be tied in knots. When their eyes met, she felt a sting. The gaze in those eyes was too sharp for her to look directly at.

"Capturing the Mind" is a spell derived from Latin words that refers to reading and thinking. It is a magic that allows one to read emotions and thoughts, and even acquire memories, by looking directly into the eyes of another person.

The mind of a thirteen or fourteen-year-old wizard is not as complex as that of a Dementor. He can easily detect the surging, almost overflowing anger, mixed with a hint of mockery, sneer, and resentment.

What made her so angry?

The barely perceptible magic continued to extend, attempting to unearth buried memories, but the beginner's spells were still very unfamiliar. Having just learned to recognize emotions, the attempt to search through memories was clumsy and inefficient.

Some external factors are needed to assist.

"nothing."

Hermione pondered for a moment, then tentatively guided her: "I'm just curious, what did Daphne do wrong that you hate her so much that you're willing to block her in the hallway and hurl such nasty insults at her."

Pansy knew this know-it-all lady, but had never met her in person. She didn't understand why, even after using such impolite language, this person still wouldn't leave.

Her fist clenched slowly in her sleeve, her expression turning cold as she prepared to hurl even harsher insults. But when she heard Hermione's question, a thought flickered in her mind, and she subconsciously recalled the incident, fragments of memories flashing through her mind.

For some unknown reason, a blush crept across Percy's cheeks, followed by an angry outburst: "What's it to you! Mudblood!"

Hermione blinked slowly, piecing together the fragments of memory she had just seen. Understanding the reason for the other person's anger, a faint smile curved her lips as she said:

“You should know that those words violate school rules, right? I’m giving you two choices: either go to Professor McGonagall or Professor Snape to apologize and accept your punishment, or I’ll tell that person that you wrote him a love letter.”

Pansy's pupils contracted slightly: "You...how did you know?"

"Should I say his name?" Hermione still smiled, mimicking her, her lips moving slightly but no sound coming out: "Malfoy."

Pansy turned and left, her steps hurried and somewhat disheveled.

……

Mid-April.

The Easter holiday is almost over.

Aberforth wrote to the staff instructing them to take good care of the tavern, and thereafter lived at Hogwarts.

The business at Pighead Bar is really nothing to note. Apart from a few wizards whose identities are not to be revealed, it is only frequented by regular customers. Ordinary residents are used to going to Three Brooms Bar. In the past two years, the business has become increasingly bleak.

Originally, he was running the shop with ulterior motives. Now that he's infiltrated Hogwarts, he can monitor Dumbledore at any time, and the Hog's Head pub business isn't so important anymore.

However, living too close to one another can also be inconvenient. For nearly a century, they have harbored animosity and resentment, which they have taken for granted. They finally opened their hearts to each other and had a heart-to-heart talk. While they may not have completely resolved their past grievances, they have certainly broken the ice and reunited.

As a result, when the two of them are alone now, they often don't know what to say.

Aberforth felt a pang of regret; he shouldn't have so readily agreed to stay at the school temporarily.

The consequences of acting impulsively began to show. When one was hot-blooded and angry, one didn't realize anything was wrong. Instead, one thought that one had seen through the guy's scheme and gained the upper hand. But when one calmed down and came to one's senses, one had no idea how to deal with him.

But Dumbledore was extremely patient. He didn't know what to say, so he would sit behind his desk all day, holding a book, and read it for hours on end, like a statue.

Because of their striking resemblance, Aberforth didn't dare to go out and wander around, and always stayed at school.

Unlike the Christmas holidays, Easter holidays are not allowed for young wizards to leave school. The hallways, grounds, and auditoriums are full of students, which could easily lead to unnecessary discussions if they were seen by others.

Aberforth could only pace back and forth in his office, attracting Fox's attention to follow his movements. Birds' heads have built-in gyroscopes, but after several days of this, even the phoenix couldn't take it anymore.

Several times during the course, Professor McGonagall came to discuss matters related to the final exams. In the conversations between the headmaster and the vice-headmaster, the vice-headmaster seemed to be in charge, having already made detailed plans for all matters, big and small. He only came to the office to inform Dumbledore and have him sign off on things.

Aberforth, standing nearby, made a few sarcastic remarks.

But sometimes awkward situations arise. That eccentric young professor occasionally returns to discuss magic. The Patronus Charm is just the basics; there are also things like the source of magic, the soul and emotions, and Dementors and Boggarts.

Aberforth, who had dropped out of school, couldn't get a word in edgewise. He strained his ears to try and gather information about Ariana, but each time he was left completely confused.

"Albus, you just want to torture me and make me give up, right?"

Aberforth stood by the window, gazing at the lush green meadows and forests outside. The outside world was so beautiful, while the office was dull and boring, filling him with frustration and resentment.

The principal's office is fully equipped, with a washroom and a lounge, so he doesn't have to go out all day long. His meals are delivered to his room by house-elves.

He has been staying at the school for two days now, ever since he sneaked in that night. He feels like he's been in prison for two years.

Dumbledore looked up, a faint smile in his eyes: "Why do you say that?"

"They've locked me in the office and won't let me go out!"

"You can read books. If you're not interested in the books outside, there's a study inside. Or if there's anything you'd like to read, I can borrow it from the library," Dumbledore said slowly.

"Books, books, books, what else is there besides books? I'll pour some goat piss on your bookshelf sooner or later!" The tavern owner had a foul mouth.

"If you don't like the place, you can go back to the tavern."

"See! I knew you wanted to force me to go back so you could play with Ariana behind my back!"

Dumbledore rubbed his temples, somewhat helplessly: "Then what do you want to do?"

Aberforth looked calm and said matter-of-factly, "I need to go out for a walk. The weather is so nice; the goats should be sunbathing on the grass!"

I thought Dumbledore would refuse and I would have to bargain several times, but to my surprise, he only thought about it for a moment and nodded in agreement: "Okay, but you can't use your current appearance. You need to disguise yourself a little."

"I know, I'll just pretend to be like you."

Aberforth waved his hand impatiently, took out his wand, and touched his beard. Sparks flew from his wire-like beard, and his short, coarse gray beard began to lengthen, turning silver until it reached below his belt.

With another light tap, the thin black frame instantly transformed into a crescent shape.

With his deep blue eyes, slightly drooping nose, and loose gray robe, anyone who saw him walking on the ground would call him Principal.

(End of this chapter)