Chapter 206. The Werewolf Professor
The leisurely summer holiday passed quickly,
and on a morning two weeks later,
Adrian Wesson was on the plantation lawn feeding his Chinese Chomping Cabbages a black, lumpy substance.
Oh, he would absolutely never admit those were the biscuits he had baked himself that morning.
Why not use magic to bake biscuits, you ask? Naturally, to add a bit of spice to an otherwise dull life.
Although life hadn't changed in the end, at least Adrian now had a handful of toxic substances on his hands.
To get rid of these failures, Adrian mixed in some Growth Potion and fed them to the Chinese Chomping Cabbages—everyone knew that once Growth Potion was added, Chinese Chomping Cabbages could eat almost anything.
Speaking of which, Harry's Chinese Chomping Cabbage hadn't had any news lately.
Adrian was muttering to himself when Harry's figure suddenly appeared in a portal.
He ran over, cheering, and held something up. "Professor, look at this."
Adrian looked over in curiosity: it was the latest issue of the Daily Prophet.
What met the eye was a black-and-white photograph of a group of people standing in front of a pyramid, and he recognised every face—none other than the Weasley family.
"'The Daily Prophet Annual Grand Prize!'" Harry read the headline excitedly. "'Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, has won the Daily Prophet Annual Grand Prize—the Galleon Draw. A total of seven hundred Galleons.'"
Adrian nodded. It looked like the Weasleys had indeed received the prize just as in the original story.
He was genuinely pleased for them.
In fact, seven hundred Galleons didn't sound like much, but for an ordinary wizarding family it was already a small fortune.
"They're going to travel to Egypt," Harry said wistfully. "How wonderful."
He had never been anywhere outside the United Kingdom.
Not when he was little, nor after becoming a wizard.
Adrian patted Harry lightly on the shoulder. "For a wizard, going anywhere in the world is entirely possible—one pinch of Floo powder, or a Portkey will do. If you want to go to Egypt,
we can apply for a Portkey. That's quite easy."
Although tempted, Harry still shook his head.
He needed to stay at his aunt and uncle's house to recharge the protective magic on him—if it was even still there.
And he didn't want to trouble Adrian.
There would be chances in the future.
While Harry was happily looking at the Weasley family in the photograph, Adrian's gaze fell on Ron's shoulder.
There was a very fat rat there—Ron's pet, Scabbers.
If things followed the original plot, an important event would take place this summer: Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban.
And the cause of it was Sirius recognising that the Scabbers on Ron's shoulder was Peter Pettigrew. Adrian guessed this event would still happen,
but even if it didn't, he had decided to find a proper time to reveal the truth of the matter.
After all, Ron slept every day with a rat that was actually a middle-aged, balding man. Rather pitiful.
Speaking of Black, a clear face surfaced in Adrian's mind—matted hair, sunken eye-sockets,
eyes lifeless...
He had seen Black—inside Azkaban.
Back then, in order to find the culprit who had hurt his sister, he had searched Azkaban for a time.
It was then that he encountered Black,
only, Black had merely given him a cold glance and made no other movement.
In the afternoon, Harry was staring blankly at a sheet of parchment, a cauldron, and a big bag of sorted potion ingredients.
Ancient Runes was an exceedingly complex and difficult-to-comprehend subject.
At least, that was how Harry felt.
He had read A Beginner's Guide to Ancient Runes several times, yet he still felt he hadn't understood anything.
It was as if the knowledge only paused for a moment above his head before immediately flying off again, with no intention of entering his brain.
Just now, his professor had assigned him homework.
It was to decipher a very old potion recipe from long ago, and the recipe happened to be written in Ancient Runes.
Unfortunately, Harry could only recognise the meanings of a few scattered words at the moment.
Seeing him on the verge of tearing his hair out, Adrian couldn't help but smile.
In fact, this potion recipe was very simple—perfect for a student just beginning Ancient Runes to practise on.
Unfortunately, though old, it was otherwise useless. Its only effect was to make a pair of animal ears grow, purely decorative.
Adrian encouraged him. "If you manage to complete this potion successfully over the summer, you can earn a little reward… let me think—how about three days in Egypt?"
Harry opened his mouth, suddenly feeling a surge of pressure.
While Harry worked hard, the sky gradually darkened.
Dobby had already finished for the day and had gone off somewhere.
Lately, Dobby often disappeared for a while after getting off work.
Of course, that was his freedom; Adrian didn't interfere in the private life of his employees—even House-Elves were no exception.
When Remus Lupin came out of the greenhouse, Adrian noticed something slightly off in his expression.
He seemed… anxious?
In truth, he had been like this these past few days.
Adrian was a little puzzled. It wasn't yet time for the next full moon—had something happened?
So, before Lupin left, Adrian called out to him. "Has something happened? You look a bit ill at ease."
Lupin's steps clearly faltered.
He turned around and, after a moment's hesitation, said, "In fact, I'm planning to resign, Adrian."
"Resign?"
Adrian was a little surprised.
He couldn't let Lupin resign; if Lupin resigned…
Wait, it didn't seem like it would affect much.
Though it sounded a bit unkind, Dobby alone was already sufficient for the plantation work.
"Let me think, Remus," Adrian suddenly realised something. "Has someone offered you a better opportunity?"
"Yes," Lupin responded reflexively, then awkwardly shook his head. "Er… I mean… all right, you'll find out sooner or later. A few days ago, Albus Dumbledore wrote to me, hoping I would take the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts."
Adrian nodded inwardly.
It seemed Dumbledore really couldn't find anyone for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position and had finally extended his claws toward Lupin.
"While I don't object," Adrian said, "you must understand this isn't a job just anyone can handle. You must have heard—none of the previous Defence Against the Dark Arts professors at Hogwarts has ever come to a good end."
Lupin nodded calmly.
"I know, so I'm still considering it," he sighed. "But I feel staying on here is no longer useful. Dobby can handle everything, and he's more efficient than I am. I'm a bit redundant."
Adrian was thoughtful.
Lupin was a very responsible man.
He could easily have stayed on here drawing a salary—Adrian wouldn't dismiss him, and the pay was enough for a comfortable life.
Even so, a Hogwarts professorship was indeed a good opportunity, especially for Lupin as he was now—there weren't many jobs suitable for a werewolf.
Well, being a professor probably wasn't a job for a werewolf either.
But Hogwarts was, after all, Dumbledore's to decide; if Dumbledore said yes, then yes it was.
Watching Lupin's departing back, Adrian stroked his chin, deep in thought.
Hogwarts would, in the end, still welcome a werewolf professor.
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