A certain Hogwarts professor of runes

"Is it a two-way mirror?" Felix asked with interest.

"No, Felix, I don't think so," Flitwick said thoughtfully.

Professor McGonagall offered her guess: "Perhaps it's a magical newspaper?"

"A newspaper?" Felix looked at her; he had never thought of such a thing before.

“That’s right. I remember the Daily Prophet had similar technology. If the news changed, the content of the newspaper would also change,” Professor McGonagall added. “This is rare now, though. They prefer to move it to the evening paper.”

She recalled, "During the war years, the Ministry of Magic issued several emergency notices through the Daily Prophet..."

Felix was somewhat surprised. In his impression, the Daily Prophet wasn't very much committed to journalistic integrity; they were probably more concerned with newspaper sales.

That's why there are daily and evening newspapers, as well as a weekend edition of the Sunday Prophet.

The Daily Prophet's views generally lean towards the Ministry of Magic, so... this is a foundation for cooperation laid a long time ago?

"Did they use synchronization magic too?" He wanted to know more.

"I think it's more than that—the newspapers may have used various transformation spells, which is their exclusive technology and can't be seen in other publications," Professor McGonagall replied.

Felix pondered that this was indeed somewhat similar to his answer parchment, and perhaps even more refined—their newspaper covered the whole of Britain.

Aside from the lack of interaction.

"No, not exactly." Flitwick said, somewhat puzzled. "Strange, I shouldn't have forgotten..."

Professor McGonagall's eyes widened, and she stammered, "Could it be...that person's mark, Philius?"

"Oh my God, of course not!" Flitwick's voice became shrill.

Felix listened quietly. They were talking about the Dark Mark?

He hadn't studied it, but from what he remembered, it was a kind of magical contract with patterns, used for location and summoning. Perhaps Voldemort added his own interpretations.

Suddenly, Belby, who had been silent, said, "Come to think of it, I've seen something similar in the Muggle world..."

"That's right, that's it!"

Belby's words gave Flitwick an idea, and he exclaimed in surprise, "I remember now, I heard that from Professor Bubbaji!"

Kereddy Bubbaje?

Professor of Muggle Studies?

Felix recalled that he had only met the professor a few times, and she seemed to live off-campus most of the time.

"Karedi showed me a picture, it was square and boxy, I don't remember its name." Flitwick looked at Belby, hoping for a response—

"Oh, I remember it's called a mobile phone?" Belby said. "I saw someone using one at the Muggle opera house, and I even asked him about it. I told him I was from the countryside."

He grinned at Felix, a reference Felix made in his book to "How to Deal with Muggles".

Flitwick gave Belby an approving look. "This is it—a mobile…phone? They say Muggles can talk across thousands of miles. Kerridine complained to me that her paper was completely ignored; they thought it was pure fantasy—all ancient stuff."

Professor McGonagall, not being very familiar with Muggle technology, asked with a puzzled look, "Is the Muggle world really that advanced? How do they solve the problem of long-distance communication?"

Flitwick and Belby were speechless; their knowledge in this area was extremely limited.

Felix let out a soft breath.

He knew what kind of book he should write this year—an introduction to science and technology in the Muggle world. However, Professor Bubbaji's experience served as a good counterexample; if he started with something beyond the wizards' imagination, he probably wouldn't make a ripple.

His two previous books introduced the development history of ordinary people and their ways of thinking, which are things that wizards can understand. Moreover, he deliberately arranged a large number of examples of communication scenarios, which are quite practical—making it easier for some public officials to follow the map and deal with ordinary people.

That is why his books have gained professional recognition.

It also makes it easier for him to slip in some of his genuine personal opinions...

How should he structure the new book? Felix pondered.

It must be simple, clear, and easy to understand at a glance. Less is more.

Some simple mechanical parts, some prototypes of energy utilization, and even simple, repeatable physical experiments...

He suddenly remembered talking to Miss Granger about Lockhart, during which he mentioned that he admired Lockhart's method of incorporating knowledge into stories. "Maybe I'll imitate that someday!" he said to his assistant at the time.

Now it seems I could write a fairy tale called "The Adventures of a Wizard Boy"?

"Felix?" Flitwick looked at him.

"I just thought of some interesting things," Felix said.

He put a visit to Professor Bubagi on his agenda.

As for improving the parchment for answering questions, he still had many ideas from the young wizards that he hadn't yet put to use. In addition, the two-way mirror, the magic newspaper, the Dark Mark, and the mobile phone could all provide him with inspiration and ideas.

Midway through, the professors finalized a collaboration plan, much to Belby's regret, as he was completely unfamiliar with this area.

After the banquet, the young wizards left in twos and threes, tacitly agreeing to each other's presence. Some male and female wizards quietly disappeared from the group to find secluded places for their rendezvous.

"I wonder how many couples Felch will catch tonight?" Felix's mind wandered to random thoughts.

Back in his office, he flipped through today's Evening Prophet, and the front-page news caught his attention—

Gilderoy Lockhart faces seven years in prison; fans write letters criticizing the Ministry of Magic.

This piqued Felix's interest. The newspaper reported that Lockhart deeply regretted his actions and was willing to treat and compensate those who had been harmed—hoping to escape punishment.

He also donated a full 20,000 Galleons to various prestigious magical organizations. But Wizengamo still sentenced him to seven years in prison—a punishment that, in Felix's opinion, was clearly lenient.

Moreover, the Dementors that ordinary wizards fear are not so terrifying to memory masters.

But for Lockhart, losing his dazzling aura and future would be the most terrible punishment, wouldn't it?

But that wasn't the most outrageous news of the day. In the corner of the story, he discovered an inconspicuous piece of information—

Rita Skeeter, former editor of the Daily Prophet, faced charges including long-term concealment of Animagus information and illegally obtaining others' secrets for personal gain. However, the Ministry of Magic recently dropped all charges and instead sentenced her to a fine of two thousand Galleons. Reportedly, more than one high-ranking official in the Ministry of Magic stated that there was no direct evidence to prove Rita Skeeter's guilt…

Felix suddenly laughed: "Rita, Rita..." He was truly amazed.

Gilderoy Lockhart and Rita Skeeter are remarkably similar in some ways, both becoming famous witches and wizards through illegal means.

Lockhart even received a third-class badge from the Order of Merlin, a symbol of honor.

Even so, when their crimes were exposed, their fates were completely different—Lockhart received a reduced sentence but was still imprisoned; while Skeeter's sentence was negligible.

Felix's pale blue eyes reflected the night view of Hogwarts, and he asked with great curiosity, "Just how many secrets of important figures do you know, Rita Skeeter?"

A string of controversial names of high-ranking Ministry of Magic officials flashed through his mind—

Connelly Fudge, Barty Crouch, Ludo Bagman, Dolores Umbridge, Pierce Sinkness...