"Don't change the subject! Tell me, what did you do in the Principal's office this afternoon?" Alfrina glared, her eyebrows furrowed.
"What could I have done? I just borrowed the Sorting Hat to ask about the criteria for sorting..." Gary didn't fully disclose his afternoon's experience, he concealed the questions about Alfrina.
"So, the Sorting Hat messing with me for five minutes was just playing a trick on me?" Howard, who had been silent until then, spoke up.
"That's right, it was toying with your emotions," Gary said dramatically, "Poor Howard, being played like a fiddle by the Sorting Hat."
The two girls burst into laughter, and Howard's fair, clear face turned a shade of crimson.
Dumbledore's instructions were relayed to Gary by Nance that evening.
"Every Friday evening at eight o'clock, in the Principal's office. This week's password is Fizzing Whizbees," Nance said, looking at him with envious eyes, "You're doing well now, Headmaster Dumbledore is personally giving you private lessons."
Gary and his companions were in the common room organizing the feedback from students that afternoon, planning to discuss it with the four Quidditch team leaders after sorting it.
"It's nothing major," Gary noticed everyone's gaze converging on him, "Professor Dumbledore saw that I was doing well in Alchemy, so he decided to mentor me."
"Oh, speaking of that, we have to talk about it," Nance pulled up a chair and sat down, "Among the seven years, only your third year has Professor Dumbledore personally teaching you. It's really unfair."
"Don't say that," Alfrina lifted her head from the pile of letters, "Headmaster Dumbledore only gives us one lesson a month, and his words are always so vague. What can we learn?"
"You don't understand," Nance said earnestly, "Just having taken Professor Dumbledore's class will make finding a job much easier."
"I interviewed with several companies during the Christmas holidays. The economic situation isn't great lately, and even my nine O-level results aren't enough."
"No way, nine O's aren't enough?" Kona felt a little flustered. She could at most get nine O's in her final exams, and considering the difficulty of the OWL exams was much higher than the final exams, she estimated she would only get around seven O's.
"Of course, it's the Great Depression now. When I went to Diagon Alley during Christmas, I saw many shops had closed down." Nance also frowned.
"So, did you find a job in the end?" Gary was very concerned about this question. He hadn't yet decided his path after graduation, and Nance's sudden mention of the issue made Gary a little anxious.
He didn't have a clear understanding of entering society, but time was flying, and in less than a hundred chapters, the third year would be over. Gary felt he had to prepare early.
"...My mother pulled some strings to get me into St. Mungo's as an assistant Healer," Nance shrugged, "To be honest, I don't want to work in a hospital. It's too tiring and troublesome."
To those around him, Nance seemed to be showing off after getting a good deal. St. Mungo's Hospital, Gringotts, and the Ministry of Magic were the three institutions countless Hogwarts students would break their heads trying to get into, offering high salaries, stability, and respectability.
"Go play," Alfrina looked at him with annoyance, waving Nance away, feeling he was there to disrupt morale, "Kona, you don't need to be so flustered. We have these practical projects under our belt. Even if our grades are a bit lower, we'll still be hired."
Alfrina was right. Just the Dark Arts curriculum reform proposal from last year alone would be enough to get them a job at the Ministry of Magic.
"What's more, we also hold a new rule that could change the history of Quidditch, so there's no need to worry about finding a job at all," Alfrina comforted them.
Gary also knew that he was just momentarily anxious and hot-headed. Thinking about it carefully, the practical activities they had done were enough to serve as a stepping stone in their job search.
...
At eight o'clock on Friday evening, Gary arrived punctually on the eighth-floor corridor, only to find that there was only one stone gargoyle left at the Principal's office entrance. It stood there alone, staring blankly.
"What's going on, where's your brother?" Gary looked behind it. Originally, two stone gargoyles guarded the passage to the Principal's office together, and both had to move aside for someone to pass. Now there was only this one stone gargoyle, and its backside completely blocked the passage.
It sighed, "We played a little too much that night, and we actually left the Minister for Magic waiting when she came to visit us... Then Dumbledore sent it to guard the teachers' lounge next to the Great Hall."
Gary didn't know what to say, "Fizzing Whizbees."
The stone gargoyle reluctantly moved aside, and Gary walked in.
The Principal's office was unusually lively; even through the door, he could hear the noisy chatter.
He knocked twice on the door with his knuckles, and the sounds inside the room abruptly ceased.
"Come in," He heard Dumbledore's voice, pushed open the door, and found that most of the Principals in the portraits on the wall were awake, and they all turned their gaze towards him as he entered.
"It's you again?" a large, red-nosed male wizard in a portrait asked in surprise.
"Fosco, you've seen him?" The man in the portrait next to him said. Gary's gaze shifted, and he realized he recognized him: Professor Wendyk, author of the famous bestseller "Curses and Counter-Curses."
"Hmm... I saw him once, he came in the afternoon last time," the red-nosed wizard mumbled.
The other Principals quickly looked away after realizing it was just a student.
"Gary," Dumbledore waved his wand and conjured a chair opposite his desk, extending a hand to invite him to sit, "The Sorting Hat suggested that you come here every week to learn some Alchemy knowledge..."
"I don't have enough time to teach you. The Sorting Hat said it could teach you some simple theories, and I think your talent in Alchemy is quite good, so I agreed to it."
"From now on, you can come to my office every Friday evening. The Sorting Hat is on the bookshelf," Dumbledore got up, took down the dirty Sorting Hat, and handed it to Gary, "I still have some matters to attend to in London."
He stooped down, patted Gary's shoulder, then spun around on the spot. The space twisted, and the air vibrated with a sharp "pop" as he vanished.
"Alright, you brat, put me on your head, otherwise all our whispered secrets will be overheard by this lot," the Sorting Hat grumbled, its mouth widening.
Gary heard many Principals let out sarcastic laughs, seemingly mocking the Sorting Hat's boasting.
Gary's face flushed, and he quickly put on the Sorting Hat, lest it say anything else that would make him look foolish.
The Sorting Hat's body hung down naturally, perfectly covering Gary's eyes. Now, everything in front of him was pitch black.
--