Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle

Neville wasn't in the dorm.

Seamus and Dean were helping Harry open the letters, occasionally letting out exclamations and screams, making even louder noises than he did.

Harry was sorting the gifts he had received.

Whether it was letters or gifts, the number was much greater than his own, after all, he was the protagonist.

Ron felt a sour feeling in his heart.

Only a little bit. After all, in the first few months and the first ten years of the Burrow, he was an ignored little transparent person. His grades and abilities were not as good as those of his older brothers, and he was not as well-behaved and cute as his younger sister. But now he is a well-known wizard after all.

Not as good as Harry though.

……

The sun rises slowly.

Melvin returned to his office, put the ordinary mail and newspapers aside, collected all the howlers, wrote down the senders on them, and then destroyed them all.

There was no desire for revenge, but many wizards were simply terrified by Voldemort, and any news about him would make them hypersensitive. Having lived under the shadow of the Skull and Crossbones Mark for a long time, and finally enjoying a few years of peace, it was normal for them to lose control of their emotions when they suddenly learned that Voldemort might return.

Wizards are also human beings, and only a few of them have strong wills. Most of them are ordinary residents. They instinctively don't want to believe such a cruel truth, and can only find a place to vent their fear and anxiety.

After sweeping the ashes into the trash can, Melvin opened his notebook and prepared to start thinking about the final exam questions. He unscrewed the cap of his pen and suddenly paused before writing.

As a behind-the-scenes staff member, so many people care about me and even spend time and money to send me letters. Hermione and the others must have received even more letters.

"..."

Melvin pondered for a moment, put away his pen and paper, and prepared to go to the principal to discuss the issue of student mental health.

……

In the headmaster's office, Dumbledore sat behind a round table, holding a glass of iced pumpkin juice and sipping it slowly.

Sitting opposite him was a short and fat figure with a bright red tie, a long black cloak, purple pointed boots, and a dark green top hat. His clothes were obviously inspired by Muggle style, but only part of it was learned. Looking at the outfit alone, it looked a bit out of place.

His face looked good, his sparse hair was carefully groomed, with some graying at the edges, and when he smiled he looked like a kind middle-aged wizard.

"Good morning, Cornelius," Dumbledore said softly.

"Honestly, it's not very good, Albus," Fudge said in a crisp, quick voice. "The situation is complicated. I have to come here to talk to you. The film showing in pubs everywhere has caused a sensation. Residents who don't know the truth have written to inquire about the mysterious man. All my assistants have suspended their vacations to respond to these unfounded speculations."

"Really?" Dumbledore's eyes flashed with disappointment. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

"We are friends. I won't embarrass the school." Fudge rubbed his teacup, his tone a little awkward. "I hope that Professor Lewynter will take responsibility for this and issue a public statement in the newspaper to clarify that the image is a fictional story and that Quirrell is just an ordinary Dark wizard with no connection to You-Know-Who."

"Is that so?" Dumbledore looked him in the eye.

Facing those azure eyes, Fudge looked away unnaturally. "When Dolores sued you last time, I was visiting Ireland and didn't receive the news in time. If I had known about this, I would definitely not agree with his approach."

"It's nothing, Cornelius. When faced with new and unfamiliar things, some wizards may not be able to accept them for a short period of time. This is normal."

"Yes, Dolores is that kind of wizard."

Perhaps the old headmaster's attitude was too easygoing, so Fudge paused and continued, "If you could also make a public statement, it might reassure the residents, Albus, what do you think?"

Dumbledore remained silent, his eyes returned to calm, and the disappointment in his heart grew even stronger.

In the ministerial election two years ago, Fudge actually had little hope. Apart from Crouch, whose reputation was affected, he was no match for Scrimgeour and Bones, the other hard-line wizards. However, they were ruthless in the process of capturing Death Eaters, which incurred the resentment of many pure-blood families.

To ensure a smooth transition of power and maintain stability in the wizarding world, Dumbledore chose to support Cornelius Fudge, who had worked in the Department of Disasters in his early years, had not participated in any war operations, and had a mild temper...

During the period just after his election, he handled affairs very carefully and would write for consultation when he encountered situations he was unsure about.

Dumbledore had also heard the rumors that Fudge was his puppet, so he took the initiative to reduce his suggestions for specific actions and instead helped Fudge analyze the situation and sort out his ideas, thinking that this would help Fudge grow.

Unexpectedly, in just two years, power had eroded Fudge's heart.

"During the Easter holidays, as you know, there's a lot to deal with, including final exam preparation, second-grade course selection, and fifth-grade advanced classes... Melvin can't spare the time."

Dumbledore gently rejected his suggestion. "It was originally just a story in the mirror. The image has already made it clear that it is pure fiction. If we respond seriously to it in the newspaper, it will only make the residents suspicious and uneasy."

"This……"

"Wizards are not fools. They will know the truth."

"But Ms. Bones and Director Scrimgeour are overreacting. They are planning to launch a cleanup operation, focusing on those former Death Eater families."

"What's wrong with that?"

"..."

Fudge was speechless.

There is nothing wrong with the investigation. The Law Enforcement Department should remain vigilant. Even if they cannot find the mysterious man, they can at least find out some activities of dark wizards.

But he just didn't want Dumbledore to get what he wanted.

"That kid, I mean Harry, can he be interviewed?"

"Connelly, a student's most important job is to study. Final exams are coming up soon. He shouldn't be disturbed."

"What about the centaur? He doesn't need to review, right?"

"You can look for it in the Forbidden Forest."

"..."

Fudge was in a very bad mood. All his suggestions were rejected, and the reasons for the rejection were very sufficient. He really couldn't find any reason to refute, and finally he could only leave angrily.

……

Melvin stood outside the office door. When he heard the footsteps inside, he stood sideways behind the stone pillar outside the door. He did not push the door open slowly until Fudge stood up and walked away.

Dumbledore watched him come to the table, pour himself half a glass of iced pumpkin juice, and sit casually, not as formal or restrained as their first meeting.

Melvin took a sip of pumpkin juice and didn't mention Fudge. "Owls deliver a lot of letters, some praising, some criticizing. I even have Howlers here. Harry and the others will get even more. They're still young and might be adversely affected."

"Perhaps?" Dumbledore repeated softly.

"They get carried away when they hear praise, and feel lost and uneasy when they hear criticism." Melvin put down his teacup. "First-year students' values ​​are still unstable, so they need the help of an experienced headmaster."

"Three views..."

"Worldview, values, and outlook on life."

"A concise and profound analysis." Dumbledore thought for a moment. "It sounds like it belongs in the field of psychology. A professor of Muggle Studies would be more appropriate for psychological counseling."

"During the Easter holidays, as you know, there are a lot of things to deal with, such as preparing for final exams, choosing courses for the second grade, and preparing for the fifth grade advanced class."

This was what the headmaster had just said to Fudge. Hearing Melvin deliberately slow down his tone and repeat it, Dumbledore smiled helplessly and thought for a moment: "Perhaps we can divide the work."

"?"

……

Hermione sat alone under the beech tree, holding the letters in her hands. In front of her were two stacks of letters from the audience, one from pure-blood wizards and one from Muggle-borns.

There are also some news briefs.

In an inconspicuous corner on the edge of the Black Lake, the stone path outside is silent, and the sunlight shines in through the gaps between the trees, covering the ground with a warm golden carpet.

The lake in front of him was rolling with waves and bubbling with bubbles, as if the water was boiling, but there was no steam rising, and the water temperature did not actually rise. It was just that the roaring letter was submerged in the water, and the rolling waves looked a little scary.

This was also a letter from a pure-blood wizard.

Hermione knew that some wizards in the wizarding world believed in the supremacy of pure-bloods, and many of her Slytherin classmates were like this. At first, she thought it was just a small group among students. There were also such small groups in Muggle schools, which would band together to exclude outsiders and eat together at noon.

The Slytherins formed their own cliques, and the Gryffindors also formed their own cliques, so she didn't pay much attention to it at first, and didn't really believe that anyone would really use bloodline to distinguish between relatives.

Later, when the pure-blood Malfoy excluded the pure-blood Longbottom, Hermione became more convinced of her idea.

So she hadn't anticipated that after watching the video, someone would actually insult her because of her background, and even go so far as to write a howler letter just to make her hear the word "mudblood".

The pure-blood wizard looked not very smart.

"Hiss..."

The little witch opened the leather envelope, and a sound like the fuse of explosives came from inside.

Hermione kept a straight face and expressionless as she stuffed a stone into the envelope and threw it into the Black Lake. The roaring letter sank to the bottom, bubbling with bubbles. It was quite amusing.

The next one was an ordinary letter. Judging from the tone of the letter, it was from a half-blood witch who graduated from Ravenclaw College. She praised her performance in the level with warm words.

"Miss Granger, the Sorting Hat may have made a mistake. Your clever mind should be with Ravenclaw, not Gryffindor, who only knows how to throw reckless punches. Believe me, you will like the bronze door knocker in the common room. However, this mistake also led to the subsequent story..."

Hermione read the letter word by word, her tightly pursed lips curled up slightly. She folded the letter and put it back into the envelope, placing it in the pile on the right.

She had already planned to go home during the summer vacation and take her parents to the Leaky Cauldron to watch Professor Lewynter's mirror together, and then share the letters with her mother when she got home.

Continue to sort the letters.

Not long after, I heard footsteps approaching.

Chapter 87 Stirring the Vortex

Melvin pushed aside the fallen branches and walked into the students' secret base.

In the air behind him, the owl postman flapped its wings to avoid the shaking branches. It had just accepted a part-time job as a guide and was showing the professor the way. The reward was a string of dried white rat meat. When the young professor found the little witch in the corner, it cooed to indicate that the mission was accomplished.

Melvin hung a string of dried rat meat around its neck, rubbed its head, and sent the owl away.

After passing through the low bushes, I looked up and saw the little witch sitting by the lake, holding a letter and looking at me with her head tilted.

He was wearing a school wizard robe, a white shirt, a gold and red tie, and his fluffy curly hair was unkempt. He looked a little dazed, and after a few seconds, he reacted and hurriedly stood up to greet him:

"R-Professor Lewinter?"

"Isn't this the resourceful and brave Gryffindor female warrior? What is she hiding here for?"

“There are a lot of letters from viewers, and it’s not convenient to open them in the dormitory.”

The little witch squeezed the envelope with a little force. She was woken up by the pile of letters in the morning. Lavender and Parvati would deliberately read out those words of praise in an excited tone as if they were reciting poetry.

After opening a yelling letter, she felt uncomfortable staying in the dormitory any longer.

I stuffed all the letters into my backpack and went to the quiet lakeside to sort them out. Even so, letters continued to arrive.

Hermione was a little distressed.

"What's the inconvenience?"

"No, nothing." Hermione lowered her head to avoid the professor's gaze, staring at the tip of her shoes, her voice a little unnatural.

Melvin looked at her hair whorls and shifted his gaze to the lake. The water was still bubbling, and occasionally faint sounds of drowning floated out. Combined with the girl's vague and embarrassed expression, anyone who didn't know would think she had drowned someone in the lake.