Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 313 Everyone has selfish desires, and Dean Cat is no exception!

Those purebloods who used to have an arrogant demeanor generally had the same hesitant and worried expressions. Malfoy had a tense face and was talking to several senior students. The tall and strong Goyle and Crabbe stood beside him with their arms crossed, also looking serious.

But Harry thought those two idiots were probably just putting on an act; they probably didn't understand what the others were talking about.

Harry hesitated. He wanted to ask Malfoy about the school board, but he was too embarrassed to do so.

While they hesitated, Hermione and Ginny, who were collecting questionnaires, came over. Hermione was responsible for casting the Levitation Charm and the Summoning Charm, while Ginny was responsible for checking the questionnaires. A thick stack of parchment floated around them.

Both of them were very busy. At least, Ginny didn't even have time to blush when she saw Harry, and Hermione, who was always very curious, didn't pay attention to the silence at the long table.

Amid Hermione's rapid-fire incantations, Harry and the others' questionnaires floated and were compiled.

The two girls quickly finished packing and were about to continue when Seamus called them back, his eyes filled with anticipation: "Granger, did Vaughn tell you how to resolve the school board issues?"

Upon hearing this, Hermione paused for a moment, then shook her head: "No, I asked him, but he didn't say."

"That's terrible," one of the twins sighed. "Our dear benefactor never likes to play games, especially with Hermione. If he had a solution, he would have told us."

"Yes, George, it seems the club's future is uncertain!"

The others looked at each other blankly, and the atmosphere around the long table became somewhat dejected.

As if to confirm Fred's "prophecy," the hall door suddenly opened, and Professor McGonagall hurried in.

Everyone could see that the vice principal was in a bad mood. Her already serious face was now covered with wrinkles, like layers of rain clouds, so gloomy that it looked like it was about to drip water.

She quickly scanned the suddenly quiet hall, then looked at the young witches in charge of collecting the questionnaires: "Granger, Zhang, Greengrass—ladies, please collect all the questionnaires and give them to me as soon as possible; I need them."

After saying that, Professor McGonagall left in a hurry with a stern face.

After leaving the auditorium, McGonagall did not linger in the main tower of the castle, and hurriedly arrived at an ordinary door on the fourth floor of the secondary tower.

She opened the door, and a flash of deep darkness appeared behind it. In the blink of an eye, McGonagall found herself standing in a conference room.

She didn't show any surprise.

Because what she opened was a "door to anyone," whose function was to identify the person who opened the door and transfer them to a specific location.

Of course, this ability can only be realized inside Hogwarts Castle.

The castle has existed for a thousand years. Since the era of the Four Great Wizards, in order to guard against Muggles and protect young wizards, wizards have experimented with various modifications and novel ideas on the castle.

Between the four giants and the enactment of the Secret Law, spanning hundreds of years, and up to the present day, no one can say for sure how much magic has been added to this castle or how many secrets it holds.

Anyway, it's still possible to provide a place for secret gatherings.

McGonagall, with a stern face, glanced around the conference room.

Several people were already seated around the long rectangular table in the conference room: Ravenclaw Dean Felius Flitwick and Hufflepuff Dean Pomona Sprout.

as well as----

McGonagall looked toward the end of the long table, where Snape, draped in a long robe, seemed to float in the shadows like a Dementor.

The group seemed to be chatting when she entered. Flitwick tapped the table, and a sumptuous meal instantly appeared. Flitwick then raised a glass of wine and warmly greeted her, "We've been waiting for you, Minerva."

McGonagall's wrinkles relaxed a little: "Good day, Philius, Pomona—Severus, I'm sorry, I was a little late in the Great Hall."

She was always so meticulous and adhered to rules and etiquette to the core.

Several deans who had worked with her for many years didn't seem to mind. Flitwick handed her some wine, and Sprout stopped knitting a wool sweater. Winter was coming, and she was knitting winter clothes for the mandrakes. The ugly roots of those little guys needed to be kept warm all winter to ensure they would mature the following spring.

Sprout asked with concern, "Were you just in the Great Hall? Was it because of Vaughn Weasley's questionnaire?"

Upon hearing this, McGonagall's already stern expression became even more solemn. "Yes, Pomona, our dear Mr. Weasley has assigned homework to all the young wizards in the castle, and then instructed those innocent little girls, who seem to have taken love potions, to brazenly collect his homework in the Great Hall—ha, I didn't even know Hogwarts had gained another professor?"

Her tone was serious and mocking, and although she was answering Sprout, her eyes, hidden behind her glasses, were fixed on Snape.

"I really don't know who gave him such arrogant courage, don't you think, Severus?"

The meeting room fell silent for a moment. Sprout continued knitting, while Flitwick sipped his wine, his eyes darting between McGonagall and Snape.

A moment later, from the shadows at the end of the long table, came Snape's smooth voice: "You suspect I'm the mastermind behind this?"

McGonagall did not respond.

The shadow flickered, and Snape emerged, his long face expressionless: "You overestimate me, Professor McGonagall."

He continued to address McGonagall as he had done during his student days, though his cold, impatient tone seemed to lack much respect: "The Mr. Weasley you so admire as pure and innocent is not a simple man, and I think you should know that—how many of the guys who hang out with Dumbledore are honest? Oh, Potter is an exception; his stupidity is beyond comprehension."

McGonagall ignored Snape's signature "smear campaign" against Harry, staring intently at him as he sat down at the table: "So, why did you gather us here today?"

Upon hearing this, Flitwick, who was holding a wine glass, and Sprout, who was knitting a sweater, both looked at Snape.

Yes, today's convener is Snape.

For the four deans present, whether it's ordinary official business or personal matters, they can simply exchange information in anyone's office. There's no need to specifically use the castle's secrets and sneak around like a rendezvous to come to this place.

The location of this gathering was essentially set up to guard against certain individuals.

Being in the castle and being Hogwarts professors, they obviously couldn't guard against Dumbledore. So, it could only be those who "oversaw" the castle!

McGonagall pursed her dry lips.

Sure enough, Snape, sitting opposite her, said in a cold, slick tone, "I am not the mastermind behind this, but regarding the Duel Club's appointment of instructors, I have decided to support Vaughn Weasley. The Board of Governors' initial restrictions were unreasonable, and I hope we can jointly propose to the Board of Governors to rescind that decision and allow the Duel Club to fulfill its true responsibilities."

."

McGonagall's face was icy, and her lips were slightly parted.

But the strange atmosphere made her words catch in her throat, unable to come out.

She adjusted her glasses, following the silence in the air, looking at Sprout, then at Flitwick who was slowly sipping his wine, and suddenly realized: "You guys were in cahoots?"

Seemingly awakened by her stern gaze, Sprout stopped her knitting and awkwardly leaned forward. (According to a Poermore article, Sprout and McGonagall had a two-year relationship during their student days, and their ages should be similar.)

Flitwick, however, a professor of mysterious lineage and age, possessed profound experience and a calm demeanor. He put down his wine glass and said, "How can you call it collusion? Minerva, it was the Board of Governors who made the unreasonable decision first; they were the ones who disrupted the balance of Hogwarts."

McGonagall's expression remained unpleasant.

She knew, of course, that the school board’s restrictions on the dueling club were against the law, but—rules are rules, and even if they were against the law, it didn’t mean the school administration should oppose the school board!

Seemingly sensing her thoughts, Flitwick didn't give her a chance to speak. He took out his wand, pressed the tip against his cheek, took a deep breath, and then exhaled.

Thick smoke billowed from his mouth, spreading thickly in the air like a shimmering lake or a mirror, reflecting the figures of many young wizards.

They were in the auditorium, in the courtyard, on the covered bridge—those vibrant figures, their voices rising and falling, discussing practical lessons and dueling clubs.

"This is not my memory, nor is it a prophecy; it is what is happening right now."

Flitwick said, "Listen to the children's voices, Minerva, and think about how much Hogwarts has changed and what impact it has had since Vaughn and Rozier began reforming the practical classes this semester."

Variety?

Influence?

McGonagall instinctively looked at the thick fog in the air, which was as viscous as lake water and as mirror-like as a mirror.

"ah"

Amidst the layers of sounds, she heard a series of screams and laughter—a scene from the many images that the thick fog had created: two second-grade girls having a snowball fight in the courtyard.

Instead of clumsily trying to clump snow with their hands like Muggles, the two second-year girls waved their wands like real wizards. One transformed into a snowman and carried herself across the snow, while the other summoned snowballs.

Noticing her gaze, Flitwick looked over as well and said slowly, "Look, Minerva, they're just second graders. Just a few months ago, I was worried that these little ones might be too playful and not be able to learn what I was teaching them. Many times I was even afraid that they would blow themselves to pieces while chanting spells."

As he spoke, he pulled a strand of silver hair from his forehead and threw it into the thick fog.

A portion of the scene separated out and began to recreate the classroom from the previous semester, with the same two girls in the scene clumsily waving their wands like brooms, the magical light flickering at the tips of their wands like broken Muggle light bulbs.

Flitwick swung his wand, and more memories flowed forth, each corresponding to the "present." The little wizards, outlined by the thick fog, were divided into two parts: the memory part was clumsy and hesitant in casting spells, while the present part was casting spells smoothly, using them to play and practice.

"It's only been a few months—" Flitwick sighed, looking at the stark contrast in the images. "These changes are all thanks to the practical classes and the dueling club. Vaughn once told me a Muggle adage: 'Interest is the best teacher.'"

"That makes a lot of sense. Look, Vaughn and Rozier have been working in this direction, using practical lessons to spark the children's interest, and then using clubs to realize that interest. They actively pursue knowledge because of their interest."

"Yes."

Sprout also lamented, "Since the reform of the practical courses, I have felt this most deeply. Herb class has never been popular with children—don't look at me with comforting eyes, Minerva, it's true, I've always understood that whether it's your Transfiguration class, Philius's Charms class, or Severus's Potions class, they all have a magical aspect, but my Herb class is just utterly uninteresting to the children."

"Who would enjoy a course that involves dealing with mud all day? I've heard children say more than once that they want to learn magic, not be farmers."

He sighed, but soon Sprout smiled: "But Vaughn and Rozier changed all that. They took the children out into the wilderness, into the forest, letting them learn about the uses of herbs little by little through hands-on adventure and survival. In the few months since the new semester started, the enthusiasm those little guys have for herb class is something I haven't seen in my decades of teaching. They even come to me after class to ask questions—something that used to be only done by good students focused on exams!"

She wiped her eyes, looking extremely moved.

This left McGonagall speechless for a moment.

Because of her courses, she has never had such a problem.

Seemingly sensing her wavering, Flitwick pressed on: "After several months of trial operation, Minerva, we have to admit that the practical classes and clubs have greatly improved teaching efficiency. Perhaps there are still some problems we haven't discovered, but so far, it's the right path."

"But this correct path is being obstructed because of the selfishness of some people. Don't you think there's a problem with that?"

McGonagall's lips trembled slightly: "The Board of Trustees' role is to supervise and provide checks and balances. Faced with uncertain new things, they have—"

Flitwick interrupted her: "Supervision or checks and balances, the fundamental purpose of these so-called responsibilities is to ensure that Hogwarts can conduct its teaching better. Minerva, is the Board of Governors' restriction on clubs having instructors for the sake of teaching?"

The Ravenclaw dean's face was stern: "No, the Board of Trustees has become a tool of a small group of people, who are using it to interfere with normal teaching and deprive students and us of our fundamental rights!"

"Therefore, I'm echoing Severus's support for Vaughn today, not only because his reforms are beneficial to us, but also to defend the rights of all the teachers and students of the castle—we can no longer compromise with that ridiculous board of directors!"

'

""

While the four heads of the house were discussing and debating, in a similarly secluded classroom in the Slytherin dungeon, a classroom that had been vacant for an unknown period of time...

The once empty room is now filled with worktables and instruments.

The walls were encircled by braziers of demonic fire, which illuminated the room brightly, making the colors of the Black Lake bottom outside the window appear even more somber.

Vaughn sat at a workbench, adjusting the equipment, with a bottle of Alacride beside him.

A prosthetic hand picked up the bottle.

It's Kettleburn.

He approached the bottle, and his scarred, hideous face terrified Alarclyde inside, causing it to flutter its claws wildly.

"The little guy is very energetic!"

Kettleburn smiled with satisfaction, then looked at Vaughn, who was still engrossed in the instruments: "Now the entire castle is because..."

Your questionnaire caused a stir, but here you are, hiding away doing research? Aren't you worried at all?

"There's nothing to worry about."

With a gentle flick of his finger, Vaughn conjured a microscope that floated up before him, magically disintegrating into numerous parts and lenses that swayed and trembled like clumps of seaweed in the black lake outside the window.

A magical aura occasionally flickered across the surfaces of the parts and lenses, vanishing in an instant. They appeared unchanged, but both Vaughn and Kettleburn knew that the microscope had been enchanted, albeit temporarily.

As he watched the enchanted microscope begin to assemble itself, Vaughn said calmly, "The club is beneficial to all young wizards; no one will refuse a suggestion on the questionnaire."

"But what about the deans? When I arrived, I saw Minerva rushing to the secondary tower, presumably to discuss this matter with the other three deans."

"I know the other three professors will convince her."

"Oh? Severus, Philius, and Pomona have all agreed to support you?" Kettleburn was somewhat surprised. "How did you manage that? I don't recall them being the type to stick their necks out."

Vaughn dismissed it: "That's because their interests haven't been infringed upon—and by interests, I don't mean things like Galleons, but rather people's personal desires, or, to put it more positively, their ideals, thoughts, and ambitions."

"As I've said before, practical courses and clubs are excellent platforms. They not only allow students to demonstrate their value, but they are also places where professors can realize their self-worth—to more effectively disseminate knowledge, influence students, and express their views outside of the curriculum."

"You should understand this deeply. For a white wizard, after becoming a professor at Hogwarts, there is almost nothing missing in life. Here you will find the oldest and most comprehensive library in the entire wizarding world, the largest magical greenhouse in England, the most secret ancient buildings, and the Forbidden Forest with the most diverse species."

"It can be said that Hogwarts can satisfy all the needs of wizards, from magic to personal daily life. Of course, human nature is greedy—this is also in a good sense. The so-called satisfaction is only relative. In addition to magic and material things, there are always other needs to pass the time."

"Like you, Professor, your love for fierce and dangerous magical creatures, even at the cost of a limb, goes beyond a simple hobby; it's about pursuing self-worth. For example, if someone were to forbid you from going to the Forbidden Forest or interacting with magical creatures, how would you feel?"