Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle

The adult wizard sitting in the main seat was wearing a long robe, had long platinum hair, and a somewhat gloomy but handsome face. A wand with an exquisite base was tucked into his waist. Opposite him was a little wizard with a similar face but more childish, about twelve or thirteen years old, with a somewhat dangerous hairline.

"Potter, Diggory, Edgecombe, the Weasleys, and Marcus the Flints are all up there."

Lucius frowned slightly, a little displeased: "Draco, why not you?"

Draco was distracted. He wanted to go to the garden and see the peacocks. "They're all in the drama club. They have to interview to join. I didn't fill out the application form."

"Who is the director of the drama club?"

"Professor Lewinter."

"Then why don't you join?"

"Why should I participate? To perform on stage?" Draco was very unconvinced. "Didn't you say that? The Malfoys should stay behind the scenes, not show up in public. Seeking attention is something only fools do."

"..."

Lucius couldn't help but remain silent. He had indeed said this; it was the ancestral teaching of the Malfoy family.

He waved his hand, signaling Draco to go and play by himself, while Draco stayed in the study and read the entire report in its entirety.

"Slytherin... Basilisk..."

Lucius couldn't help but frown. Although Lewinter was not mentioned in the news, he always felt that all this was inseparable from the professor, and even related to the diary.

When it came to the Dark Lord's secrets, it was probably a good thing that Draco didn't get involved.

……

Outside the village of Ottery St Catchpole, Devon.

"That's amazing! Thad! It's in the papers!"

The ruddy-faced middle-aged wizard sat on a chair, his short brown beard shaking with laughter. He was not afraid of tearing the newspaper, and happily unfolded it to show his wife and son opposite him.

The wife also had a bright smile on her face, and was proud of their son, but also had some complaints and worries.

As a mother, she always doesn't want her son to get involved in such dangerous activities.

Cedric's smile was somewhat helpless. Everything about his parents was good, but this kind of praise was unbearable, not only at home, but also in front of outsiders.

He had a feeling that he would become the topic of conversation in his father's conversations in all social occasions during the Christmas holidays.

Cedric sighed and explained, "It wasn't just me. It was all the students in the drama club, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and the others. Everyone contributed."

"Our Sede is always so humble and always behaves like a gentleman."

Amos Diggory grew even more proud upon hearing this. "The newspapers say you were the main force. You maintained confidence at the critical moment and directed and organized the attack. That was a sign of wisdom. You showed no fear in the face of the basilisk. That was a sign of bravery. And with so many people charging forward, only you escaped petrification and returned home for the holidays. The others might still be lying in their hospital beds. I think everyone knows who the greatest hero of this battle is!"

"Harry and the others were the ones who found out the truth, and..." Cedric's eyes were filled with helplessness. "Dad, I told you I made a mistake facing the basilisk. Turning to stone when faced with its gaze was the right thing to do. Having all the bones broken is a terrible feeling."

"Yeah, but you were discharged first, right?"

Amos Diggory shook his head and flipped through the paper, disappointed that there was no picture on the front page.

……

"...Here, I pay my highest respects to the young warriors who defeated the basilisk."

The old witch sat beside the hospital bed, with a wizard hat inlaid with a vulture specimen placed on the bedside, revealing her meticulously combed gray hair. Her old voice trembled slightly as she read.

This is the fifth floor of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, inside a closed ward. The rooms are filled with patients who are unable to take care of themselves, including her son and daughter-in-law, a former Auror couple.

Frank Longbottom stared blankly at the quilt on the bed, his face pale and his body swollen.

Alice Longbottom was fiddling with her hair. Although she was less than forty years old, her hair was already gray. Her face was thin and haggard, and her eyes were bulging.

Augusta Longbottom closed her eyes, and the fine wrinkles on her face gathered together.

Ten years ago, Voldemort disappeared mysteriously. The world celebrated the hard-earned peace, but this couple was captured by the frenzied Death Eaters. Bellatrix Lestrange tried to force Voldemort's whereabouts out of them, torturing them with the Cruciatus Curse until they lost their minds.

Neither of them could understand what she was reciting. Slytherin, Hogwarts, and Basilisk, to them, were no different from the babbling of the patients, all meaningless syllables.

Only when she heard Neville's name did Alice's eyes light up slightly. She looked up and looked around, but didn't see the fat figure, so she lowered her head in disappointment.

Augusta Longbottom saw that she was clutching a candy wrapper.

……

Newspapers flew on owl wings into the homes of wizards across Britain and into the Ministry of Magic.

As the only wizarding government in the UK, the Ministry of Magic cannot have a collective holiday. In order to prevent emergencies, staff from all departments remain on duty. During the boring holiday, reading newspapers is one of the few fun ways to pass the time.

The same thing happened at the Floo Network Administration office.

"As the head of the drama club, Marietta Edgecombe persevered to the end. She didn't back down in the face of Lockhart's threats, and joined forces with two other students to successfully defeat Lockhart..."

Mrs. Aikman read the content as she went along. Although it was only a short paragraph, she seemed unable to get enough of it.

The desk lamp was bright, illuminating the unfinished proposal, revealing words like "Floo Network", "Mirror", and "Renovation".

Chapter 156 Christmas

"Bliss..."

Dumbledore took a sip of hot cocoa, squinted his eyes in satisfaction, his expression relaxed and leisurely, his beard and hair casually disheveled, he was wearing a sky blue robe, sitting behind his desk with an old diary spread out in front of him.

The portraits of past principals on the wall were already asleep, with their heads lowered, nostrils moving, and breathing evenly.

On the shelf was a phoenix that had just been reborn from the ashes. All of its gorgeous feathers had been burned to ashes, and new ones hadn't grown out yet. Its entire body was a wrinkled, flesh-colored pink, looking extremely ugly.

Fawkes was crouched in the Sorting Hat, his eyelids drooping limply, his head nodding, and he looked like he was about to fall asleep.

Dumbledore held the quill in his hand, thought for a moment, and then slowly wrote on the paper:

"Christmas 1992 is approaching. The wizarding world has been peaceful over the past year, and the teachers and students of Hogwarts have spent another semester together. We are about to usher in a new year, and it will be a new beginning."

“The Christmas decorations in the auditorium are very beautiful.”

"We still have some problems to deal with. Cornelius and the board of directors are going to review the school. Professor Lockhart won't be fully recovered anytime soon. My Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is absent again, so Minerva and Melvin will have to cover for me."

The diary gave no response.

Dumbledore was a little disappointed. He put down his quill and turned the page. The handwriting left a few days ago was still the same, neat and thick, without any changes caused by absorption.

"Tom, if you don't show up, I'm going to burn this diary."

The diary finally responded, and the words on the yellowed pages began to vibrate, revealing words venting anger.

"Are you finally willing to take off your hypocritical mask? Dumbledore!"

"You can't hide it from me. You write a diary with false feelings to disguise yourself because you can't deal with Voldemort. You can't kill me. The real me is still alive!"

"Destroying my diary won't kill me! Don't try to get any information out of me!"

Dumbledore couldn't help but smile.

The person in the diary is 16-year-old Tom Riddle, and the person outside is the 111-year-old old headmaster. I wonder if this can be considered a reunion of teacher and student after nearly fifty years.

"Perhaps you are right, Tom, that Horcruxes are a vile way of evading death, but there are many other ways to destroy a person, and your failure proves that point."

"There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore raised the corner of his mouth. Compared to the adult Voldemort in the crown, the 16-year-old Tom was much easier to communicate with:

"Really? Then, if I destroy this diary, would that be equivalent to killing the 16-year-old you?"

"..."

There were traces of ink floating on the diary, and it seemed as if one could see through the paper that young and immature face, cursing hysterically.

Dumbledore sipped his hot cocoa and continued to wait patiently.

Outside the window, a crescent moon hung on the top of the tower. The night was still long and the old man always suffered from insomnia, so they had plenty of time to have a conversation.

……

Christmas morning.

Melvin felt like the window seemed to be leaking a little, and there was always a cold breeze blowing on his face, very weak, almost imperceptible. If it hadn't been blowing cool, he wouldn't have felt it at all.

At the same time, a faint hissing sound was heard right next to my ear.

"..."

Melvin opened his eyes and met a pair of dark eyes. The corners of his forehead were almost touching the tip of his nose. No wonder he felt cold.

It was unknown how long the young snake had been awake. It crawled out of the wizard hat that served as its makeshift nest, and did not run around or make any trouble. It just coiled up beside the pillow and stared at him.

It is obviously a weird and terrifying thing, but when it happens to this young snake, it doesn't seem so strange.

Wash up, change clothes, and leave the bedroom.

In the open space in the center of the office, there are piles of gift packages of various sizes. Some are beautifully wrapped paper boxes, and some are randomly shaped burlap bags. There are quite a lot of them, and there are hundreds of greeting cards alone.

Melvin only recognized some of the names on the cards. He could recall their faces: Ms. Marchbank, owners of pubs from various places, colleagues from school, students who graduated last year, and some shopkeepers in Hogsmeade.

The rest is more unfamiliar.

Melvin casually opened a greeting card:

"Dear Professor Melvin Levant: We write to you with deep gratitude to express our profound appreciation for your guidance and support. Under your guidance, our son Marcus Flint became a warrior who stood up to the Basilisk...

Warmest Christmas wishes again, little Ursula Flint."

"Ursula Flint Jr., Amos Diggory, Augusta Longbottom..."

Melvin opened a few more greeting cards and looked at the familiar surnames. He realized belatedly that these were the parents of students.

The cards basically thanked him for his guidance and for giving their children the opportunity to be famous in the newspaper. The gifts included were different. Old Lady Longbottom gave rare herbs, Mrs. Weasley gave a hand-sewn wallet and raisin cake, and others included some potions and the like...

The most common thing is books. They seem to think that professors should like reading.

Mrs. Flint's gift was the most direct, a gold brick weighing about 3 pounds.

I don’t know how much suffering the owl went through before it was sent here.

Yurm was wriggling in and out among the pile of packages, with half of its body squeezed into the gap, leaving only its tail hanging outside, swaying slightly. It seemed to enjoy the feeling of crawling in the dark and narrow space, and it hissed excitedly.

As the packages were opened one by one, the baby snake hid deeper and deeper.

Putting aside those gifts that are based on personal relationships, the gifts from last year's graduates seemed more sincere. Some were souvenirs from their graduation trips, some were things related to their first jobs, some were potions they brewed themselves, some were ancient magical items after curses were removed, and some were lost teeth or claws from pet animals.

The gifts given by colleagues at school are similar to last year, each with its own style.

Dumbledore gave a set of wizard adventure story books, the kind with illustrations, which told the story of a wizard's secluded life in a remote village in the 17th century. There were five chapters in total. The wizard used five unconventional magics to deal with the corresponding troubles, and finally lived happily with the villagers.