A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 518: Head of House

In the final days of the holiday, Harry and his friends eased off training, eagerly anticipating the new term. Neville bid them a reluctant farewell, heading back to his grandmother's place, and they arranged to meet at King's Cross Station.

"Why do you seem odd lately?" Ron asked Harry, a puzzled expression on his face, as he mercilessly captured Harry's white queen chess piece.

"Do I?" Harry shivered slightly, asking with great sensitivity.

"Of course, you do! Let me think... you've been absent-minded out of the blue, even during those days at the Burrow. You weren't even interested in playing Quidditch against Cedric! You willingly gave the chance to Ginny. Speaking of whom, she's also acting strangely..." Ron's expression turned suspicious, making Harry feel embarrassed. "I say, do you two have some secret?"

Behind her book, Hermione sighed. Ron was finally catching on, but his words stunned Hermione. Ron asked firmly, "Harry, are you planning to go to Godric's Hollow, and Ginny just happened to find out about it?"

Harry was dumbfounded.

"Why would you think that?" Hermione asked, bewildered.

"It's a guess. I've seen Harry staring at photos several times," Ron said, a hint of pride in his voice, but then he got serious. "Harry, Mum forbids us from going out much. At most, we can go to the Burrow for some air. But if you insist, we can use the Invisibility Cloak and Apparate quickly back and forth—"

Harry shook his head. "Remus advised me against rash decisions, and, um, I haven't figured it out myself yet."

"Because, because..." Harry took a deep breath. It was time. "I've learned three Unforgivable Curses."

"Unforgivable Curses!?" Ron exclaimed, wide-eyed. Hermione, too, was stunned, her thick book slipping from her hands. This was entirely different from what she had anticipated.

After a long pause...

"What do you think?" Harry nervously looked at them.

Ron slapped Harry's shoulder firmly. "That's too cool! How did you manage that? Did Professor Lupin secretly help you? It could also be Dumbledore; you've been going out quite a bit lately."

Hermione, unimpressed, gave Ron a disapproving look. "Impossible. Professors would never teach us those curses! Even in peacetime, strict restrictions are in place, as Tonks informed me."

Harry hesitated for a moment but eventually shared his unusual experiences: the night he woke up feeling peculiar, Professor Snape testing him with three spells the next morning, and Dumbledore asking various questions and even extracting two of his memories.

Thinking of one of those memories made Harry's breath quicken—it contained the image of Ginny kissing him on the cheek. He should have edited that part out!

However, Dumbledore insisted on having complete memories, and in the heat of the moment, Harry had given them away. Now, whenever he remembered, he regretted it deeply. He didn't feel like talking much when he was alone with Dumbledore... and Harry wasn't sure whether to feel regretful or not, but he hadn't managed to have much alone time with Ginny, leaving him feeling both anxious and regretful, wondering if he had been presumptuous.

Ron and Hermione were struggling to process this astonishing revelation.

"That simple? You learned those two spells in less than a morning?" Ron still found it unbelievable.

"Didn't you listen carefully? Harry has obviously been influenced by the mysterious person. The professor was merely confirming this. It wouldn't have been that easy otherwise." Hermione looked at Harry seriously. "Harry, Professor is right. You mustn't slack off in your Occlumency training."

Harry responded dejectedly.

"This isn't a joke, Harry. From your symptoms—"

"Symptoms?" Harry snapped in annoyance.

"Alright, signs," Hermione corrected cautiously. "Your increasing connection with this mysterious person—it's strange. When did this start?"

"Maybe since Voldemort's return," Harry said.

"But if it's progressed to gaining knowledge of his evil, this is serious, Harry," Hermione patiently explained. "Dark magic affects one's sanity. Can you imagine merging part of Voldemort's thoughts with yours? Your character might unknowingly change, or he might implant a thought in your mind, making you believe it's your own. Perhaps that's what Professor and Dumbledore are desperately trying to prevent."

"What should I do then?"

"Of course, focus on improving Occlumency and, um, not allowing yourself to dwell on negative emotions." Hermione recited what she had read from books, but it was all old advice. "I—we can help you, right?" She looked at Ron, who quickly nodded.

During dinner, Fred and George vividly described the new guards at the castle.

"About fifteen feet tall, like enlarged magical puppets, made with rarer materials and more spells. When they light up, the magical glow around them is blinding... you'll see them when you go to Diagon Alley; there are two at the entrance."

"Did you participate? What powers do these guards have?" Donkus, still dining, asked with great interest.

Fred sighed. "It was Professor Snape who made them alone, a week before our joke shop's protective spells. We really wanted to incorporate them into our joke shop—" He made a ghostly face.

Mrs. Weasley gave him a stern look, and he promptly made a sealing motion, refraining from using the term 'Weasley Wizarding Wheezes'. However, Harry knew that Fred and George had already signed the shop contracts, right in Hogsmeade village.

"Only two?" Harry remarked.

Fred and George exchanged glances. "That's a secret."

Harry held his breath involuntarily. "So... there are many?"

"We can't say for sure," Fred said. "There are probably about a dozen outside?" He counted on his fingers. "Two at the entrance, two inside the gate, and a few scattered around... but these might not be all of them."

"Right," George chimed in. "Since Professor emerged from the lab, we noticed several storage rooms being locked, but we couldn't open them. Only a few people have access."

He shrugged.

"We tried persuading Penelope to let us in while Professor wasn't around, but she flatly refused. I bet there's a legion of magical puppets inside!" Fred and George were excited, and now Donkus was interested too. "Are they quick to produce? Perhaps I should suggest the Ministry purchase a batch if it's cost-effective."

"Not yet," Fred dismissed the idea. "Only Professor Snape can create these guards. It involves extremely advanced memory magic... but he's not at the shop right now."

"Snape's not at the shop? Where did he go?" Harry asked.

The twins shook their heads.

"Penelope and Clementine should know. They have an emergency contact method with the professor. Remus might also, but we don't always see him."

"He might be dealing with Muggle world affairs. Every year, he takes a few days for that," Hermione suggested.

"Did he mention this to you?"

"Oh, um, I guessed," Hermione said.

When Felix reappeared, it was the last day of the holidays

, and he brought three letters.

"Managed to swing by the school; Milerva was swamped, so I grabbed the booklists," Felix said. Harry, Ron, and Hermione eagerly tore open their respective letters.

"About time; school starts tomorrow," Ron remarked as he opened his letter.

"Probably busy; McGonagall only got around to sorting school matters in the last few days," Harry guessed, opening his letter to find two parchment sheets—one reminding him about the school start and the other listing this year's required books.

"There are two new books to buy," Hermione read from the list. "'Standard Spells, Level Five' by Miranda Goshawk, and 'Basic Runes for Practical Use' by Felix Harp and Heidestrand Vira. Professor, you've authored a new book?"

Felix nodded slightly.

"Who's the other author?" Hermione inquired, studying the list.

"He's the Ancient Runes Society President. You must have seen him; he and Professor Marchbanks attended some classes at the school," Felix explained. "Due to time constraints, Mr. Vira and I compiled the practical runes needed for the fifth year into one book, sorted by difficulty and teaching sequence. We'll split them up later when we have the chance. The textbooks will be published by L.C.A Publishing House."

"Why isn't there a book on Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Harry repeatedly looked at the booklist.

"Didn't Sirius mention it to you?" Felix asked.

"No, he—"

"None, he—"

"Did it fall out?" Ron shook the envelope. "Hmm, there is one in here. Let me see—" His mouth fell open, frozen in surprise.

"Do you have anything else there?" Harry leaned in curiously beside Ron. Meanwhile, across from them, Hermione turned the envelope over, and a gold and scarlet object slipped into her hand. Harry instinctively pinched his own envelope, finding it empty.

"Prefect," Ron groaned. "I've been made a prefect."

Ron and Hermione became fifth-year Gryffindor prefects. Felix was a bit surprised by this outcome, but upon reflection, he understood Dumbledore's intentions. Prefects held both power and responsibility, and Harry already carried too many responsibilities.

However, Harry clearly didn't comprehend it yet. He felt empty inside at the moment, only able to offer pale congratulations, far less genuine than Mrs. Weasley’s heartfelt reaction upon hearing the news.

In fact, nobody was more surprised than her. Not even the freshly appointed prefect.

"I can't believe it! I really can't believe it! Oh, Ron, that's fantastic! Prefect!" She hugged Ron excitedly, the damp patch on her cloth dripping onto the floor. She promised generously to get something for her youngest son.

"Can I get a new broomstick?" Ron asked eagerly.

Mrs. Weasley looked at him somewhat uncomfortably, then smiled. "Of course, then see you in a bit. I’ll go fetch Fred and George's shopping list, besides the broomstick, we need new books for you, oh, and Ginny's, that's quite a lot." She chuckled and left.

Ron stood there, for a while. Then his eyes lit up, "Fred and George will be so jealous, they definitely will be! But who cares? I'm a prefect! And I’ll soon have a new broomstick! Oh, bother—"

"What's wrong?" Harry asked dryly, feeling like his voice belonged to someone else.

"I should add more money, take out some of the prize—this way, I can get a better broomstick." Ron said excitedly, his eyes gleaming. "Yes, that’s it. I’ll go tell Mum right away."

"Professor," Hermione quietly asked Felix, "may I make a call home? Using the public phone outside the community? My parents will be so happy to hear about being a prefect."

Felix considered it. "Alright, Miss Granger, it's been a while since you've been home. Take this chance to spend time with your family. I'll pick you up later tonight."

"Then I'll go pack." Harry awkwardly said.

He returned to his room, the luggage open on the table like a gaping mouth, seemingly mocking him silently. Harry picked up a piece of dirty clothing from the bed, sitting there blankly until he finally had time to think.

He had almost forgotten about the prefect thing, but when it actually happened, he couldn't pretend to ignore it. If he had to choose between them, he'd definitely rather be the prefect himself than Ron. Harry felt uneasy, did he think he was better than Ron? He didn't want to come off as arrogant, so he tried hard to find reasons. My Quidditch skills are better, and my dueling abilities are stronger... but apart from that? He hadn't outperformed Ron in other subjects. But beyond subjects—Harry thought bitterly—the adventures they shared, the life-threatening situations—they both did so much, Dumbledore knew that better than anyone.

But he couldn't help but correct himself, Ron always stood by him, never faltering even in the face of Voldemort. He didn't have reasons like Harry did to be Voldemort's enemy, so it seemed that Ron was more noble? At that moment, a voice popped into Harry's head, but it took away what was rightfully yours.

"No, that's his due," Harry whispered to himself, but the voice kept buzzing, incessantly, filling his mind with dark thoughts. Perhaps he needed a lesson, using the new spells he had learned...

"That's not my thought," Harry told himself, "Ron is my best friend." He stood up suddenly, almost stumbling. He panted, his expression changing rapidly, sometimes seeming like a different person.

"Someone needs to check their mind." The empty canvas in the frame on the wall mocked.

Harry glared at the canvas, but there was nothing there, unlike the clock that shot screws at people, the biting teapot, or the cabinet that coughed up dust when opened—proof of the ancient, pure, and magical heritage of the Black family.

"You're wrong," Harry said loudly, but the canvas didn't respond.

After a while, Harry heard footsteps. He hurriedly lowered his head, stuffing the clothes haphazardly into the suitcase, and Ron bounced in.

"I managed it!" he said happily. "I put half of the prize in, just enough to switch to the Cleansweep series 2000. I could have gone for the 2001, but I thought I should save a bit, I still need to buy birthday presents, and in case 'Future World' releases a new product... Are you okay?"

"Brilliant, Ron, I mean— you'll soon have a good broomstick, maybe consider joining the team," Harry said, pausing, feeling that the words were genuinely from his heart, and he sighed with relief.

Ron's smile vanished.

"I thought it was you, I didn't even consider—"

"No, that's what you deserve," Harry said firmly, as if finalizing it. "You totally deserve the honor of being a prefect. As for me, I have enough troubles of my own..."

"Oh, alright, you're right, maybe Dumbledore didn't choose you for that reason—will he still come today, I mean, for that inexplicable afternoon tea?"

"Yeah, I think so," Harry was glad Ron changed the subject, glad that the school was about to start, not having to stomach all the fruit preserves again, the thought of it was making him nauseous now.

In the evening, Sirius came back, and Harry welcomed him with great excitement.

"Should I call you Professor Black?"

"You can save that for tomorrow's dinner," Sirius smiled.

During dinner, he sat next to Felix and said quietly, "Felix, I heard you're one of the guards for the Hogwarts Express tomorrow?"

"Just one of them," Felix glanced at him, causing a jam jar to fly into his hand. "I remember you're one too."

Sirius awkwardly turned his head, "I planned to take a leave... maybe work another day."

"Why?" Felix asked curiously, which was unusual for him.

"I was supposed to go inspect Azkaban with Amelia today, set up some anti-thief waterfalls, but then we got an alert about a Dementor in a Muggle town, turned out to be a false alarm... In short, I thought—for the sake of completeness—after leaving Azkaban, even if it's in the past."

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