Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle

"I've been searching for information lately. Let's wait a little longer."

Melvin cast a delaying spell once again, and used news about the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters to keep Senior Riddle patient. "By the way, I recently found out in the Daily Prophet that their top reporter published exclusive news about Voldemort."

"Say it!"

"Rita Skeeter reports that she suspects Voldemort is pursuing the Potters because of a hidden emotional entanglement between them..."

"?"

A question mark slowly appeared in the diary.

Chapter 127 The Nott Family Banquet

As the night deepened, London finally ended its day's hustle and bustle. The Ministry of Magic, hidden underground in Westminster, fell silent. Thanks to the influence of the Muggle-Repelling Spell, the surrounding blocks were exceptionally quiet, and the residents fell into deep dreams.

In the silent and dim night, some wizards are still awake.

On the streets of Westminster, a warm yellow light was lit alone, and in the iron-covered glass window, a witch was writing at her desk.

Her hair was in delicate waves, fixed with chemicals so that it looked like cement, and her broad face with a large chin looked odd. She wore jeweled glasses, long, thin scarlet nails, and eyebrows thickened with charcoal, which made her look particularly disgusting.

The enchanted green quill moved swiftly and lightly, rotating the parchments one by one.

When writing about the exciting parts, Rita Skeeter couldn't help grinning, revealing the three gold teeth in her mouth.

A cold breeze blew in through the window, giving Skeeter goose bumps on her arms. She muttered something and reached out to close the window.

It was just an ordinary evening breeze, a little chilly. That's how London nights are. Due to the influence of underground buildings, the temperature in Westminster is even lower. This is all normal.

But the gold medal reporter Skeeter felt a little uneasy and a little irritated in his heart.

This feeling is hard to describe. She felt a sense of malice for no reason, as if a reader had remembered her name.

This is not surprising. Skeeter is a gold medal reporter for the Daily Prophet. She has reported on many terrorist attacks, major events, and Ministry of Magic activities. She has also published many biographies of legendary figures. The contents of her articles are quite controversial, so it is normal for her to be cursed.

The malice was stronger tonight, and when I lowered my head to continue writing, I couldn't get back to my previous state, so I hurriedly wrote an ending and put it in the drawer.

Skeeter didn't pay any attention to it. After washing up, he looked over the schedule for tomorrow.

"Two news articles, a magazine article...a buffet at the Notts' house."

Skeeter raised the corner of her mouth. These old nobles certainly wouldn't invite reporters who were good at finding out secrets, but she planned to take the initiative to keep the appointment and try to get enough explosive news to give those pure-bloods a surprise.

……

Knott Hall, West Overton, southwestern suburbs, Wiltshire.

A castle is preparing a buffet to celebrate Mrs. Nott's birthday.

In a remote village far away from the city, the suburban lanes have been abandoned, with low thorn bushes and neat yew hedges on the road. There is a gloomy and desolate feeling under the moonlight. After passing through the hedge, the front suddenly opens up and the gate of the manor is open. House elves stand on both sides, checking the invitation letter.

After the sun went down, carriages came in an endless stream, and the scale was almost as large as the Malfoy family's Boxing Day party.

The Notts were a marriage between pure-blood families. The twenty-eight clans were related to each other, and the collateral branches also received invitations. Except for Weasley, who was regarded as a disgrace to pure-bloods, all other wizards were invited to attend the dinner.

The house-elf in charge of reception tried hard to match the names on the invitation with the faces, and hurriedly led them to the lawn, watching the Notts greet them warmly.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy, long time no see!"

"Mr. Crouch, Ms. Bones, I didn't expect you to be here too."

"Minister Fudge, this way."

"..."

As the guests gradually arrived, Mrs. Nott quickly gave up her spot as the center of the party, allowing wizards from different circles to gather and communicate with each other. The Notts also held champagne and talked to people everywhere.

For these wizards, this is not just a birthday party, but also an occasion for socializing and doing business.

Thousands of candles float in the air, shining brightly with the stars and the moon in the night sky. The evening breeze blows, and the open-air party on midsummer night is filled with the scent of grass and champagne.

The lawn was divided into two areas. One was a dance floor centered around the band, with young wizards circling inside and chatting on the periphery. The other was a dining area with a tarpaulin set up, with a variety of delicious food and wine placed on the long tables.

The older wizards had no interest in dancing. They gathered in small circles in groups of three or five, holding their wine glasses, admiring the manor and the young people's dancing while chatting about this year's business.

Melvin, dressed in a black and white suit, stood in the dining area, savoring the cooking of the house elves, with a particular focus on the Notts' smoked and slow-roasted veal, a dish far more delicious than that of Hogwarts.

“Scotch eggs are good too…”

"Cream scones aren't as good as school..."

Melvin walked along normally and his stomach was almost full, but he still hadn't seen Lockhart. He wiped his mouth and looked around, but still couldn't find any trace of him. He couldn't help but sigh.

They had clearly entered the venue together, but the moment they turned around, Lockhart disappeared.

I don't know if she's enjoying other people's attention on the dance floor, or showing off her perfect smile in some circle of celebrities and aristocrats, but in any case, she's unreliable.

Just as he was about to try the beet salad again, he heard a series of footsteps approaching nearby, so he put down his cutlery, forced a smile, and put on the posture of a Hogwarts professor.

"Why are we here, Tina?" complained an old wizard with graying hair and hazel eyes.

"Theseus asked you to go out for a walk, Newt, and talk to wizards more instead of hiding in a box for a long time to look after animals." An equally old witch said, her tone as kind and calm as her face.

"You actually want to say strange creatures, right?"

The old wizard's tone was gloomy, but considering that she had spoken in time, he did not hold on to her. Instead, he continued to complain, "Why doesn't Theseus have to attend this kind of banquet? Why doesn't he come to meet other members of the Ministry of Magic family?"

The witch named Tina sighed: "He doesn't want to see those people sitting in the seats now."

Newt also sighed with a melancholy expression. It was clearly something that the guy himself didn't want to do, but he was forced to attend the party. His brother was even more excessive than when he was young.

"You can just stay here while I go say hello to Amelia."

"Go ahead, dear."

Newt didn't think there was anything wrong. When Tina was in the Magical Congress of the United States, she had a very bad relationship with her colleagues, but after moving to the UK, she made some friends.

The witch's figure walked away, and the old wizard who stayed behind began to look at the food on the long table. Instead of eating it himself, he picked up a bloody beef rib and put it in his pocket.

Melvin saw the emerald green limbs shaking rapidly, shaved off the meat and threw out the bones.

Newt noticed his scrutiny and said with a smile, "Forgive me for coming so late. The little one hasn't had dinner yet."

"Shouldn't Bowtruckles eat beetles or fairy eggs?" Melvin asked with a smile. He had already realized the man's identity.

Speaking of magical beasts, Newt suddenly felt more awake. "At first, I thought they only ate things from trees. Later, they accompanied me to dinner a few times and insisted on trying some... Actually, these little guys are omnivores. Beef and insects are equally delicious to them."

Melvin continued, "I don't know much about these magical creatures. There are no Bowtruckles on Mount Greylock, where Ilvermorny is located."

"Are you a wizard who graduated from Ilvermorny?" Newt's eyes lit up.

When he was young, he caused too much trouble in New York and was banned from leaving the country for several years. Although the ban was lifted later, the Magical Congress was very wary of him. He was watched by Aurors wherever he went. It was a regret that he had not been able to carefully observe the magical creatures in North America.

"Melvin Levant, currently Professor of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts."

Melvin nodded. He also wanted to talk to this expert about the magical animals in North America.

Chapter 128 Parents' Conversation

"Hahaha……"

The old wizard laughed heartily. "That's right, Seraphina is like that. When I was writing the Fantastic Beasts series, the first few installments went smoothly, except for the North American special. Seraphina read my manuscript and, citing the protection of North American animals, forbade me from publishing it publicly."

"In fact, the manuscript was leaked, printed and sold by pirated merchants, and it almost became a textbook for Ilvermorny."

The young wizards on the dance floor changed one after another, and the melodies played by the band changed from intense and fierce to soothing and melodious. The topics of the young professors and the old wizards ranged from the Forbidden Forest of Hogwarts to the Greylock Forest, from the Black Lake to the mountain springs, and they got along very well.

Melvin also learned some information.

Newt Scamander was unable to complete his studies when he was young because he was expelled for a dangerous experiment related to martens. Since then, he has embarked on a journey around the world to save magical creatures, visiting more than 100 countries on five continents, and helping Dumbledore defeat Grindelwald.

He is currently retired and lives in Dorset with his wife, where they have three pet knuckleheads, a garden gnome and a bowtruckle.

A soothing waltz ended, and the open-air venue seemed exceptionally quiet while waiting for the musicians to adjust.

Melvin looked at the Bowtruckle poking its head out of the old man's pocket. After a moment's hesitation, he spoke: "Mr. Scamander, I have a question about a strange long-horned water snake on Mount Greylock."

Newt nodded, signaling him to speak directly.

"I met it in a mountain stream around second grade. At first, it taught me some simple spellcasting techniques, and I told it some interesting stories from school. After a while, we became friends," Melvin recalled. "It has profound knowledge and is familiar with the application of magic. It can even use the gem on its forehead for divination."

Newt looked into the young wizard's quiet black eyes, paused, and asked hesitantly, "Are you a Parseltongue?"

In the minds of ordinary wizards, Parseltongue is generally associated with dark wizards, so this question seems a bit out of place.

Melvin shook his head. "I don't speak Parseltongue, but the Horned Water Snake is fluent in more than one human language."

Newt sighed, "It must have a very long lifespan."

"Yes, it's over seven hundred years old. The first mention of it in the history of Ilvermorny is when the school was first founded..."

Melvin thought of that scaly snake face, which always rested its head on the rocks, staring blankly into the distance, spitting out its tongue but never stopping to talk, even more talkative than the professor.

I don't know how the snake's mouth speaks.

Melvin was telling the story about the horned water snake when he became distracted. Suddenly the water snake seemed to appear before his eyes again, crawling on the snake tree, with its head lowered and whispering goodbye to him.

Seven years of memories make people feel hazy when sorting out, and the horned water snake has seven hundred years of memories in its head. No wonder the water snake is always in a daze.

"It left me a snake egg."

Melvin reached into his pocket and pulled out a unique egg, showing it to Newt. "I'm not sure if this is its own egg or if it got it from one of its kind. The magic inside it is different from ordinary snake eggs. I don't know how to hatch it. Please help me."

Newt's hazel eyes lit up slightly as he took the snake egg and examined it carefully.

It is slightly larger than a goose egg, and its shell is a clean grayish-white with faint, almost invisible lines on it, like stacked snake scales, with a dim fluorescent light flowing, which seems to have changed compared to a month ago.

"I've researched a lot, and this magical creature with unique magical powers basically can't be hatched naturally. It requires some kind of magical ritual," Melvin said, speculating. "I don't know exactly what the ritual is, so I don't dare try it."

Newt observed the snake eggs while observing Melvin.

Wizards who have been dealing with magical creatures for a long time can always use certain intuitions to distinguish the attitudes of other creatures. Humans are also animals, and their thoughts will be unconsciously revealed through actions and expressions. They may be full of vigilance, accumulate malice to prepare for attack, or ignore it carelessly.

The young professor in front of him was polite, spoke gently and thoughtfully, and was able to chat freely even though they had never met before. He was clearly a Slytherin, but when he told the story of the horned water serpent, the sincerity was unfaithful.

"you are right."

Newt withdrew his gaze and handed the snake egg back. "The hatching of magical beasts of different species requires following a ritual. There are requirements for weather, astrology, climate, and temperature. If you try recklessly, it will only disrupt the magic and hatch strange things."

"Mr. Scamander, can you help me?"

"You're lucky, or perhaps you're trustworthy." Newt put the curious Bowtruckle back into his pocket. "The water snake has almost completed the initial hatching ritual. All that's left is for the little creature inside the egg to absorb the magic energy and break out of the shell."

Melvin's eyes suddenly lit up: "What should we do?"