The Hogwarts Express had arrived.
Professor McGonagall went to the foyer to greet the students. Professors of other disciplines arrived one after another, and there was another round of introductions and greetings.
"Good evening, young ones!"
The one who spoke in a hoarse voice was Sylvanus Kettleburn, the current Care of Magical Creatures professor. He was missing half of a limb, a real limb, but this did not affect his jokes at all.
"You must be the new Muggle Studies professor!"
Professor Kettleburn rolled up his sleeves. "It's so easy to talk to Dumbledore! Talented young people can teach directly!"
The old professor was overly enthusiastic, and Melvin could not articulate a word.
"You arrive at a perfect moment," sighed Kettleburn. "When I was young, I went through 62 probation periods just to stay at Hogwarts. Director Armando Dippet always wanted to expel me. He didn't like it when I taught Defense Against the Dark Arts. It wasn't until Dumbledore became headmaster that I finally found peace."
In reality, it was because when Dumbledore took office, he only had one leg and couldn't continue fighting. His personality had also stabilized, so Dumbledore felt at ease.
Professor Flitwick, standing next to him, explained to Melvin:
"Even so, he kept going to the reserve every summer to see dragons and to the African jungle to look for venomous beasts. That hand was ripped off by a five-legged monster." Flitwick turned to look at the professor while speaking, his gaze fixed on Kettleburn's right hand, frowning.
Kettleburn touched his nose with his right hand. He was missing half of his pinky, and the new flesh at the broken end was pink and sensitive, indicating the injury had happened recently.
He explained with an ironic smile: "Last month I went to Romania to see dragons. While closely observing dragon eggs, I got so excited I couldn't resist touching them a couple of times, which angered a white-eyed Australian incubator... Later, when the caretaker disarmed the dragon, they had eaten my finger."
A disastrous incident, yet he recounted it with such nonchalance that anyone unfamiliar with the situation could have mistaken it for a cat scratch.
"..."
The professors present were speechless.
Melvin had assumed Professor Kettleburn was from Gryffindor, but he turned out to be a Hufflepuff graduate.
Professor Sybill Trelawney of Divination stumbled into the corridor, wearing large round-frame glasses. The unusually thick lenses made her eyes appear distorted and prominent, hiding most of her face.
Sybill was a descendant of the true prophetess Cassandra Trelawney. However, after generations of decline, the gift of prophecy had been passed down to the present, and no one could say how much remained. Even the professor herself was skeptical.
Her unverifiable gift of prophecy, compared to the almost overflowing talent of other professors teaching elective subjects, left her perpetually worried about being dismissed. She spent most of her time away from her colleagues, confined to the hot and crowded North Tower; her alcoholism was the result of unresolved depression.
She possessed a gift for divination, mastering the tricks of seers.
To keep her position at Hogwarts, she developed a Muggle-style teaching method.
Exploiting her students' youth and inability to hide their true feelings, she identified those with the most pronounced traits. Then, playing on their fear of misfortune and disaster, she invented deceptive prophecies, presenting herself as an enigmatic prophetess. She also reduced the difficulty of assignments to attract more students seeking an easy elective.
However, only a few select wizards knew that this professor had truly inherited the gift from her ancestor Cassandra.
With the smell of alcohol, Sybill Trelawney greeted the group and sat down to drink.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Lewinter." Professor Seltima Vector sat next to him.
Professor Vector, derived from Divination, was completely different from Professor Trelawney. If Trelawney was a mysterious witch, Vector was a rational scholar. Her hair was carefully tied in a bun, and the sleeves of her dark gray robe were fitted. She looked neat and capable, but not as stern as Professor McGonagall.
"We all thought Miss Charity Burbage would take over the Muggle Studies class this year, but we didn't expect Dumbledore to have a new candidate... Lucky you, Charity! I heard she found work in London and officially started her Muggle life."
Professor Bathsidha Babeling of Ancient Runes took a sip of mead with a hint of envy in her tone: "How enviable. I also want to leave and go to Cairo, Egypt. I heard new ancient ruins have been discovered there."
"I want to go to the Yucatán Peninsula. The astrology and arithmancy of the ancient Mayan wizards remain a mystery."
"What's wrong with staying at school?"
Trelawney took a sip of sherry and muttered incoherently: "I'd like to stay at Hogwarts my whole life."
No one doubted her enthusiasm for Hogwarts, not even the Flying Instructor Madam Hooch, the school doctor Madam Pomfrey, and the librarian Madam Pince, who arrived later.
Melvin learned from Madam Pince that the Flourish and Blotts book package had been delivered and stored in the warehouse next to the library. He would go there to collect the books when he had time.
A few minutes later, a pale young man approached with a purple scarf on his head, looking somewhat nervous: "Hello, Professor Lewyn, I'm Quirinus Quirrell, Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."
"Hello, Professor Quirrell."
...
Perhaps concerned about the strong smell of herbs that clung to his body, Quirrell only greeted briefly, then hurriedly shrank into a corner to find a seat, lowering his head and looking around.
He seemed a bit neurotic.
Babeling whispered: "He was a Muggle Studies professor, but he didn't like Muggle culture. Instead, he was very interested in ancient magic. He also took my runes course as an auditor, but he heard runes were mainly used in alchemy and that it was difficult to perform powerful magic, so he gave up.
"I heard that last year traces of ancient magic were found. He went on an adventure to Albania during summer break. Apparently, he was injured."
...
Melvin looked at Quirrell, nervous in the corner, and found him interesting.
Voldemort was now just a weak ghost, without a body or magical power. His state was similar to a ghost, and he could only feed on animal blood to maintain consciousness.
If he wasn't willing to cooperate, he couldn't control even the lowest goblins, let alone adult wizards.
Quirrell went to Albania seeking powerful dark magic but only found Voldemort in that state. Not only did he not see his true face, but he was bewitched and willing to remove his defenses, open his soul, let Voldemort parasitize his most important brain, and offer his body to become a puppet of flesh and bone.
Those herbs were used to treat the corruption caused by the deadly aura infecting flesh and blood.
I wonder if this Defense Against the Dark Arts professor will regret it.
"Listen, they're coming."
"Gurgle..."
Before he could organize his thoughts, the students had already arrived at the foyer. Professor Flitwick issued a warning. Outside the castle, the slow clattering of Thestrals could be faintly heard.
Dumbledore also arrived late.
...
Night fell over Hogwarts.
The new students gathered in front of the oak door.
"The Sorting is a very important ceremony..."
"The four houses are: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff..."
"The house with the highest score at the end of the year will receive the House Cup."
Hermione followed Professor McGonagall closely at a brisk pace, her ears alert, eager to catch every word. She walked on the stone floor to the side corridor to wait, but despite listening carefully the entire way, she still did not hear the specific Sorting procedures.
Professor McGonagall turned to look at the little witch and pursed her lips. "Wait here, please, stay quiet. I'll come get you soon."
Then she turned and left.
Hermione breathed softly, her breath coming from the serious, tense expression of the professor.
"What exactly is the Sorting Ceremony, Ron? How can they guarantee correct placement?"
"It's like a test. My brother Fred said it's very dangerous, but I think he's just trying to scare me."
...
Hearing two boys talking nearby, Hermione pursed her lips and began silently reciting the spells she had memorized from the Standard Book of Spells: Elementary, by Miranda Goshawk, which she had memorized before the semester began.
The students chatted and the ghosts flitted along the walls, completely ignoring the professor's instructions to remain silent.
When Professor McGonagall returned, the new students entered the Great Hall in line, unable to suppress their gasps.
Thousands of candles floated in the air, and four long tables, with gleaming plates and golden goblets, illuminated the Great Hall.
The glow blinded them, but they couldn't close their eyes. They looked up and far away, only to discover that even the completely black ceiling sparkled with stars.
"Merlin's socks..."
"Jesus' boots..."
Hermione couldn't contain her excitement and whispered: "This place is enchanted. It looks just like the sky outside. I read it in 'Hogwarts: A History'."
Harry and Ron exchanged glances, remaining silent.
She had said similar things hundreds of times, from the train compartment to the castle hall. Compared to her astonishing knowledge, the incessant voice and tone of the little witch were simply unbearable.
Hermione didn't care; she was focused on controlling her inner anxiety.
The worn, pointed wizard hat in front of her suddenly opened like a smiling mouth and began to sing in a hoarse voice:
"I am the Sorting Hat of Hogwarts, superior to any of your hats..."
It turned out that the sorting required no test; you just had to put on the
hat.
"Those whose names I will call, step forward. Hannah Abbott!"
...
When you are extremely nervous, time always seems to pass very slowly, but once you calm down, long moments seem to have flown by in the blink of an eye. This is Einstein's theory of relativity.
When Hermione regained her senses, she was already seated at the Gryffindor table.
Only then could she calm down, listen to her classmates' conversations, gather information, and observe the professors at the guest-of-honor table.
The closest was Hagrid, the gamekeeper who had picked them up;
the main seat was Director Dumbledore, whose image appeared in many books and materials;
to his left were the four Heads of House, including Professor McGonagall, whom she had just met;
to his right, the elective subject professors.
"Divination, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes..."
Hermione blushed, her eyes sparkling. She was very interested in all those subjects. "And... Muggle Studies?"
She knew "Muggle" was the name wizards used for non-magical people.
The professor was very different from the others, looked younger, and his style of dress was out of place in the castle.
He wore a stylish dark blue suit, a white shirt with a Windsor collar, and a silver-gray silk tie. His short black hair was simply styled, and his dark, serene, kind eyes observed the scene just like hers.
Too Muggle, nothing magical.
"You have to be in third year to take elective subjects..."
...
"Harry Potter."
"Gryffindor!"
As the cheers echoed through the Great Hall, the boy who had captured everyone's attention approached the Lion desk with somewhat hesitant steps.
Perhaps he had a bit of hypoglycemia.
Melvin also glanced, but he was more concerned with the reactions of the professors present. He raised his goblet and looked calmly to one side.
Dumbledore's operation had succeeded, his plan was going perfectly, and he was radiant.
Quirrell lowered his head, observing Potter silently, his lips moving slightly as if murmuring something.
The most interesting was Snape. He had his gaze fixed on Potter, and perhaps noticed Quirrell's observation; he immediately tilted his head and whispered a warning.
"You better behave. Don't think anyone notices..."
"I don't understand what you mean, Professor Snape."
...
Melvin looked at the corridor, gradually filling with people, and couldn't help feeling a bit excited. Someone was designing a training plan for saviors, someone reunited with an old friend's son, and someone was planning the Philosopher's Stone. A wonderful drama was about to begin.
Suddenly, he felt a bit subtle. Although he studied at Ilvermorny, he knew the Hogwarts Castle better.
Well, now that things have reached this point, let's eat first...
...
"Eh..."
Hagrid stuffed the last piece of chocolate mousse into his mouth. No new food appeared on the plate, and the sound of metal knives and forks clashing gradually ceased.
"Ahem..."
Dumbledore cleared his throat, his bright blue eyes sweeping the hall, and silence returned to normal:
"Now that you have eaten and drunk enough, I want to say a few more words.
"First of all, let us welcome Professor Lewinter, who will teach Muggle Studies."
There was quite a warm round of applause in the auditorium. The students, in general, welcomed the young and handsome professor, especially the third-year and above girls who had chosen Muggle Studies. They applauded enthusiastically.
"And Professor Quirrell has volunteered for the vacant Defense Against the Dark Arts class."
This time there was little applause; it was sparse. Professor Quirrell had not made a good impression before.
"At the beginning of the new semester, I would like to give you some important points:
First, no student may enter the school's forested area; Caretaker Mr. Filch asked me to remind everyone not to cast spells in the corridor during breaks; Quidditch player selection will be next week... Lastly..."
Dumbledore raised his voice:
"I must tell you that anyone who does not want to suffer an accident and a painful death, please do not enter the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor."
Melvin always felt he wasn't talking about precautions, but rather:
"The mission clues have been updated; please arrive at the destination in time to check them."