Dumbledore smugly drained the last of his milk, watching a dazed Sterling leave the headmaster's office.
Just now, he had taught him quite a bit of magical knowledge, especially Transfiguration, since he was originally a Transfiguration professor after all, so it was right up his alley.
Sterling was young with limited experience after all. With a century-old man deliberately trying to build rapport, he had already agreed to occasionally bring Harry and the others along for lessons...
Harry really couldn't be left to develop freely anymore. Who knew that this year's Gryffindor first-years had no one good at intellectual work? Even the originally somewhat reckless Harry was being forced to become more careful, but this still couldn't make up for academic disadvantages.
Dumbledore no longer hoped Harry could reach wizarding limits, but at least Auror level. No, at least reach a level similar to McGonagall and Flitwick?
If the Saviour ended up with all "P"s on his final exams, the British magical world's wizards he was supposed to "save" couldn't go abroad. They'd be pointed at and whispered about everywhere.
"You're quite cunning, even using a young wizard."
An incredibly aged voice came from a photo frame on the desk, sounding like two rusty gears grinding against each other.
"Oh, you can't say that. I didn't mix in a single lie... A little appropriate concealment is for his own good, isn't it, my old friend?"
"Fine, I'm too lazy to argue with you. It's hard enough to speak after stopping the Elixir of Life..."
"Alright, alright, I won't disturb your sleep. How about it? What did you see?"
The old man in the photo blinked. "My, from any angle, that's not a normal person."
"You absolutely mustn't let him bleed. This matter is very important, Albus."
…
"What?! You're saying that after Professor Dumbledore caught you, not only didn't he dock points, he actually gave Ravenclaw thirty points?! This doesn't make sense!"
Hermione nearly pierced her plate with her fork.
"Strictly speaking, points were docked, but I earned more points..."
Seeing all three looking at him curiously, Sterling cleared his throat and dramatically recounted his adventure story from last night.
"Three-headed dog... is Professor Dumbledore joking? How can such a thing be kept in Hogwarts?"
Terry cried out in shock before Hermione. He knew that even upperclass students, if their grades weren't outstanding, could only leave last words when facing a three-headed dog's hunt.
Hermione hadn't yet seen books about magical creatures. After Terry briefly described it to her, flames seemed to shoot from her eyes.
"This is simply outrageous! Professor Dumbledore can't put such dangerous creatures in the same castle as us! What if other night-prowling young wizards break in? They won't have Sterling's help!"
Hermione pulled out a roll of parchment from her bag, making Sterling's eyelid twitch involuntarily.
"We should do another joint complaint. We can just follow the Quirrell format!"
"Calm down, Hermione!" Sterling quickly stopped her from drafting a title on the parchment. She really had gotten hooked on this.
Unlike Terry, who liked achieving goals through this method, Hermione simply enjoyed the process itself.
Organising a group of possibly previously unacquainted people to do something big together.
In Sterling's opinion, she'd make a good leader.
"That three-headed dog was originally chained, and think about it. Could Dumbledore possibly not be monitoring that place? As soon as something happened, didn't Dumbledore show up?"
Padma also restrained her, stuffing the parchment back into her bag.
"Yes, yes, and look. Our last complaint about Quirrell still doesn't have results yet, so let's not rush into the next one, right?"
Speak of the devil.
At the staff table, Dumbledore tapped his cup with a fork, the clear sound immediately attracting everyone's attention.
"I have something very happy to announce."
Dumbledore stood up, his face showing an undisguised smile.
"I'm very pleased to see that my students don't blindly follow the school's arrangements, have their own thoughts, and, in pursuit of knowledge, dare to offer us their suggestions."
"I'm even prouder to see you no longer confined by inter-house grudges but able to unite together. I dare say this is the most moving discovery of my teaching career..."
He wiped his eyes. Taking advantage of this moment, Terry leaned close to Sterling's ear and whispered:
"But Professor Dumbledore doesn't teach us?"
Sterling glared at him. Ridiculous! Did he think Dumbledore couldn't hear just because he was old? Daring to disrespect the headmaster like this. Wasn't he afraid of detention until graduation?
"I must fulfil your reasonable requests, and at the same time, for all first-year students, fifty points to each of the four houses!"
The Great Hall immediately erupted in chatter. Upperclass students were whispering to each other. Except for a few prefects, they had no idea what the first-years had secretly done.
"Starting tomorrow, there will be a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor to guide your studies. I guarantee it will be an excellent wizard skilled in education. As for Professor Quirrell..."
He paused, showing a trace of regret on his face.
"Unfortunately, Professor Quirrell, being unsuitable for Defence Against the Dark Arts teaching, will return to Muggle Studies classes, responsible for fourth and fifth-year Muggle Studies instruction."
This was a perfectly unexpected solution in Sterling's view.
Killing two birds with one stone. Not only keeping Quirrell under their noses but also getting a professor who could teach real things.
Though this professor probably couldn't teach Sterling anything very useful, for Terry and the others, this was the best possible outcome.
The Great Hall erupted in even livelier discussion than before. The young wizards who had participated in the petition were celebrating with red faces, bread slices flying back and forth across the long tables, forcing prefects to repeatedly emphasise not to get too excited.
Otherwise, the Gryffindor child knocked unconscious by someone's thrown cup would be a cautionary example.
Dumbledore watched them with a beaming smile. He was genuinely proud of them. Though not many Slytherins participated, they had participated after all.
That students from all four houses could still unite today, especially for knowledge, was exactly what Hogwarts most hoped to see.
When he and the portrait headmasters reviewed this letter in the early morning hours, quite a few sentimental headmasters had wiped away tears.
So even if it somewhat went against his Saviour cultivation plan, he had to fulfil their request. He must encourage this spirit. This was what he should do as Hogwarts' headmaster.
Professor McGonagall had already turned away to secretly wipe her tears.
Flitwick happily hugged Sprout. Snape still looked unconcerned, only occasionally glancing at Harry Potter.
As for Quirrell, sigh, as soon as he received Dumbledore's message, he locked himself in his office and refused to come out.
Dumbledore figured he was communicating with his master through some unknown method.
Terry excitedly high-fived people everywhere, his originally pale face as red as an apple. After making a round of Ravenclaw's long table, he finally returned to their small circle of four.
He extended his hand. Hermione and Padma exchanged glances and placed their hands on top. Sterling smiled. It had been so long since he'd done such childish things.
But he still put his hand on top. The four silently counted three, two, and one in their hearts, then suddenly lifted together.
"We succeeded!"
Though they hadn't communicated, they shouted the same words.
They all burst into laughter.
Dumbledore watched this scene with satisfaction. Now he had to secretly wipe his eyes too.
"Friendship..."