WEEKLY POWER GOALS 💎
🔥 30→2ch | 60→5ch | 100→8ch | 200→15ch | 400→25ch
⏰ Resets Monday!
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
In mid-August, as the school term approached, Anthony packed his belongings and moved from the Leaky Cauldron to Hogwarts. His brass key corresponded to a plain wooden door on the castle's second floor. Behind it lay his professor's office.
The office had another concealed door leading to a secluded bedroom. The bedroom was fully furnished: a sturdy set of desk, chair, and bookshelf; a comfortable bed with curtains embroidered with the Hogwarts crest; and a washroom (Hogwarts mirrors didn't talk, thank goodness).
Hogwarts professors had considerable freedom to decorate their offices and bedrooms according to their preferences. He'd heard his neighbor, Professor Quirrell, had hung garlic all over his door for fear of vampire revenge.
Anthony spent some time organizing his room, then stared blankly at his empty office. According to Professor McGonagall, professors typically decorated their offices to reflect their subject, making it convenient to wake up and continue their research careers. Professor Snape of Potions had even expanded his office into an entire potions laboratory.
But Anthony couldn't think what he should put in his office. Muggle specimens? He wasn't actually a Dark wizard.
Besides, except for a wand, wizards and Muggles had no physical differences. As for internal physiological structure... given that wizards had bubbling potions and whooshing spells, they clearly didn't need to understand human anatomy to heal. When preparing lessons, he'd also asked a trainee clerk at Flourish and Blotts, wanting to buy some books on wizard anatomy to compare with Muggle medicine. The young girl's face had turned white with fright—she'd just shaken her head frantically.
So he asked the castle's house-elves to arrange a desk and chair set for him. No, no floor-to-ceiling windows or velvet curtains needed—just a desk and chair would be fine, thank you.
"What kind of desk and chair would you like?" The house-elf asked eagerly. "Are three drawers too few? Do you like golden handles?"
His empty office ultimately ended up with an astonishingly ornate desk and chair set in the center.
The mahogany desk was carefully polished, its edges adorned with exquisite carvings (Anthony leaned close to look—a row of dancing pears). Besides five drawers with golden handles, the elf had thoughtfully added extra storage compartments on the desk. On the inner sides of the chair's curved armrests, carved pears sat together singing. Anthony's name was embroidered in gold thread on the velvet cushion.
"That's enough. I'm very satisfied, thank you." Anthony stopped the elf from trying to continue optimizing. Its bulb-like large eyes stared at him longingly. "I—I'm really satisfied. Quite perfect. I couldn't find better."
The house-elf bowed to him cheerfully. "My pleasure!" With a crack, it vanished.
"It's enthusiastic to the point of being terrifying, isn't it?" Anthony walked to the bedroom and released the cat from his backpack. "Behave yourself. Don't wreck the place."
The cat looked up at him, jumped onto the bed, walked in a circle, and settled down peacefully. Its temperament had already improved considerably. After gaining flesh, fur, and blood, it slept even longer. Even when awake, it spent ages grooming itself—nothing like when they'd lived in the apartment and it had climbed and jumped daily. Sometimes when it was too quiet, Anthony actually missed the sound of it frantically scratching at doors.
He couldn't resist reaching out to poke its soft belly and was caught by a paw. He lay on the bed playing with the cat for a while, then withdrew his hand and sat up. "That's enough playing. I'm going to check out the staff room."
His timing was perfect—he arrived right at afternoon tea. Professor Burbage sat with a witch. Seeing him from afar, she smiled and waved him over.
"Henry Anthony, our new Muggle Studies professor. You know about him." Professor Burbage introduced him to the witch at their table, then said, "This is Pomona Sprout, Herbology professor and our most outstanding afternoon tea sponsor."
Anthony immediately regarded this professor with the kindly smile with deep respect. He knew almost nothing about Herbology. When catching up on coursework, he'd skimmed a few chapters of the textbook before setting it aside.
Those exquisite sketches, detailed classifications, thorough explanations of properties, and complex theoretical analyses could be succinctly summarized in one word to him: tedious. His time was tight. He temporarily lacked the patience and perseverance to memorize a plant family tree.
"Finally someone to share your workload." Professor Sprout said, nodding at Anthony in a friendly manner. "Not a Hogwarts graduate, right? I don't think I've seen you."
"Oh! A newcomer!" A professor who'd just entered the staff room called cheerfully. "This is Professor Anthony, right? Charity's been talking about you for ages. You don't know how much she wanted someone to replace her."
"Who doesn't?" Professor Sprout joked.
The professor shrieked, "Pomona! Are you retiring too?"
"She started looking for suitable candidates last year, Filius. She just hasn't approved of those 'Herbology masters' out there. Unless she suddenly lowers her standards, you'll be colleagues for at least another twenty years." Professor Burbage laughed, then turned to introduce Anthony. "Charms professor, Filius Flitwick."
Anthony's eyes immediately brightened.
He did seem to have some talent for Charms. He'd mastered all the required spells for Hogwarts' seven years and succeeded with several advanced charms too. But this practice-heavy, theory-light approach had drawbacks: he didn't understand how his failed spells failed. He'd originally planned to consult Professor Burbage or Professor Quirrell but hadn't expected to meet the Charms professor directly.
Professor Flitwick was a cheerful little old man, quite short. He specifically made his chair taller by a dozen inches before settling comfortably into it. "What tea is it today?... Oh, give me some too, thank you."
The teapot flew up and steadily poured him a cup. Two sugar cubes automatically rolled into his cup. Professor Flitwick slowly stirred his tea with a silver spoon and looked up at Anthony with a smile. "What is it, Professor Anthony?"
"I... I self-studied Hogwarts' Charms curriculum." He said somewhat embarrassedly.
"Ah, very good! Very good!" Professor Flitwick said happily. "I suppose you have some Charms questions for me."
Anthony nodded. "I have many stupid questions. The first stupid question is: why can't Tergeo remove water created by Aguamenti? I've tried ordinary water—sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't—but it's never worked once on water from the Water-Making Spell."
"Good question, Professor Anthony, good question. This is absolutely not a stupid question." Professor Flitwick waved his little silver spoon. "In fact, if you'd asked a wizard a hundred years ago, he'd have told you he didn't know, but the solution was the Hot-Air Charm. Not until Adalbert Waffling defined the scope of spell application did we realize it's because magically created water isn't considered a stain, and the Scouring Charm, judging from its incantation composition, targets stains."
He glanced at the enlightened Anthony. "You haven't read Magical Theory, have you?"
"No." Anthony admitted. "Is that also a Charms textbook? I thought it was only The Standard Book of Spells."
Professor Flitwick said seriously, "It's not a Charms textbook. It's the theoretical foundation for all Hogwarts courses."
"I'll definitely read it." Anthony promised.
"Don't be nervous, Henry. It's not the theoretical foundation for Muggle Studies." Professor Burbage set down her teacup. "We have no theory."
She complained to Anthony, "Wizards really know too little about Muggles. I once had a practical final exam where I had them come to the exam room dressed appropriately for visiting a Muggle family."
Professor Sprout took a biscuit and showed a knowing smile. This clearly wasn't the first time Professor Burbage had told this story.
"Guess what they wore?" Professor Burbage asked. "Some just randomly grabbed clothes from Muggle shops—I don't even know if they paid—and wore them to the exam. One even still had the tags and labels attached. When I asked him, he told me it was a Muggle decorative item, similar to cufflinks. Charlie Weasley. He went to study dragons."
"Then there's Mr. Weasley—that student's father—who for a while loved writing me letters asking Muggle-related questions. He asked me how cars moved. I was surprised he at least knew what cars were, so I told him mainly through the engine. A week later, he actually sent me an engine he'd removed from a car, asking why it wouldn't move anymore!"
"Also, you don't know how outdated their original textbook was. Muggle Daily Life, I think it was called. Their textbook was stuck in the 18th century, and we're already in the 20th! I changed the book as soon as I took the position." Professor Burbage complained like a dam breaking. "It was a disaster. Students who'd been writing about charcoal last year were suddenly told the correct answer was natural gas. Everyone argued with me using the old textbook, trying to tell me their answers were fine.
"I had to tell them frankly that copying answers passed down from who knows which year wouldn't help them at all—because my teaching focus was modern Muggles. Muggles live among them, perhaps as their classmates' parents and relatives. They can't treat 20th-century Muggles with attitudes toward 18th-century Muggles. It won't work. Perhaps 18th-century wizards weren't so different from us, but Muggles... change quickly."
Anthony listened sympathetically to her complaints. Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout were smiling as they drank their tea, looking kindly at Professor Burbage, seemingly finding her eloquence more interesting than what she was saying. Anthony felt he might be the only one at the table who fully understood her grievances.
Professor Burbage clearly felt the same.
"I liked you the moment I saw how you dressed." She said warmly to Anthony. "When he opened the door, he looked like a genuine Muggle, just standing at the Leaky Cauldron room doorway. I thought then, where did the Headmaster find someone so Muggle? Oh, speaking of which, how's your lesson preparation going?"
When leaving the staff room, Anthony carried a foot-long book list—reference books recommended by Professor Burbage and theoretical readings recommended by Professor Flitwick.
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
Explore More Amazing Fanfiction on My Patreon!
Unlock 28+ Advance Chapters and Enjoy Exclusive Stories Early!
👉 patreon.com/GoldenLong