Even knowing colleagues were organizing a celebration, Anthony was still startled when he walked into the staff room.
The entire room had been decorated. Streamers hung from ceiling to floor, shimmering little gold flakes floated down from midair, then were carried back up by some unknown force when touching the ground.
A huge silk banner hung on the wall and brilliantly alternated between two phrases: "Hogwarts Muggle Studies Professor Henry Anthony" (with a handwritten "Welcome" beside it—Anthony recognized this as Sprout's handwriting) and "British Muggle Studies Society Senior Member."
Most strangely, the Christmas tree was out again. Anthony remembered at the start of this term, Professor Flitwick had put it away.
"What?" he asked confused.
BANG! Professor Sprout pulled a party popper.
In the flying confetti, Professor Burbage said with a smile, "Go get your gift, Henry. Remember what I said? That's your belated Christmas present."
A very small box sat under the Christmas tree, wrapped in traditional red-green wrapping paper. Anthony picked up Professor Burbage's gift, tore off the wrapping, and opened the box—
A small silver badge. The outer circle read "British Muggle Studies Society," the raised middle part read "Senior Member," and at the bottom was his name.
"Why?" Anthony asked surprised. He originally thought what was still on the way was something like an overseas-shipped book.
The Muggle Studies Society president said slyly, "Because I want to bribe you to take over full teaching duties as soon as possible?" She smiled and sighed. "I have too many things I want to do. I've always been very curious how the Ministry of Magic actually handles Muggle affairs, and I hope I can find time to propose revising the Statute of Secrecy... Call me arrogant, Henry, but I can't wait to make this world act according to my wishes."
Anthony also smiled. "Thank you. Then I wish you all the best."
The staff room was very lively.
According to Professor Burbage, she originally only planned to ordinarily hand the badge to Anthony, but after colleagues heard, they felt they could take the opportunity to make up a welcome party for the new professor. Professor Flitwick wanted to try his decoration scheme rejected at Christmas ("Owl feathers are enough. I don't want to eat Cornish pasties sprinkled with gold dust and glitter, thank you"), and Professor McGonagall planned to use up some leftover party poppers.
So everyone borrowed the occasion of Anthony becoming a British Muggle Studies Society senior member and prepared a celebration somewhat excessively grand.
Champagne bubbles clung to glass walls and slowly floated to the liquid surface. Professor Sprout was describing a Far Eastern plant to Professor Burbage and waved her wand drawing leaf shapes in the air. Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick discussed some magical theory, the conversation full of "exactly, but" and "even so."
Trelawney stretched out her arm with jingling bracelets and under fate's guidance picked up a glass of wine she was destined to drink. Beside her, Quirrell sat in the corner, didn't touch the mountain of rock cakes on his plate, and just stared blankly at the flames in the fireplace.
Hagrid was originally coming too, but a hippogriff was giving birth ("First-time mum, anxious as anything... She's still a baby herself") and he couldn't get away, so he had to send a huge pile of rock cakes as congratulations.
To not disappoint Hagrid's kindness, Anthony walked over and took a small piece (he picked the size), only then saw Quirrell beside him, completely out of place with the party.
"Professor Quirrell," Anthony greeted him.
Quirrell immediately looked at him as if startled awake, answered randomly, and also took a piece of rock cake.
Anthony didn't know why he'd agree to attend... He believed the organizers should've invited all staff but obviously also gave them the right to refuse. Needless to say Professors Kettleburn and Sinistra whom he wasn't familiar with at all—that Potions professor from Slytherin also didn't attend.
Another person beyond his expectations was probably Professor Trelawney. Though both elective course professors, he had no interaction with this insect-like professor, so he likewise exchanged pleasantries with Trelawney. "Professor Trelawney, I'm surprised you could come."
Trelawney looked at everyone in the room with pride and said in an ethereal voice, "I originally wouldn't attend such gatherings... Those possessing the Inner Eye are often lonely. I'm often immersed in the spiritual world, concerned with everyone's fates, watching everyone walk toward their destined futures—how would I have energy to concern myself with mundane clamor..."
"I understand," Anthony said politely and turned his head trying to hint for anyone to interrupt this conversation, but everyone seemed to be chatting enthusiastically, and Professor Quirrell was struggling with Hagrid's rock cakes.
Professor Trelawney suddenly dramatically raised her voice (the room quieted for a moment). "But! When Pomona knocked on my door, I saw myself actually accepting her invitation. Therefore, naturally, I followed the future's revelation to me... At the same time, I was also given a mission by fate, Professor Anthony... I came to convey the future's message to you..."
She gracefully placed her goblet on the table and seemed to express attending the party certainly wasn't for these pale yellow, sour-tasting alcoholic beverages.
"You must beware the next waxing moon," she said mysteriously. "I saw blood and slaughter..."
Anthony heard Professor McGonagall ask Professor Sprout behind him, "Seriously, Pomona, you really invited her?"
She didn't hide her voice at all. Anthony felt Trelawney heard too, because she took a deep breath and said in an even more ethereal voice, "Dear Professor Anthony, for your misfortune, I deeply regret... Oh my goodness..."
"Thank you, Professor Trelawney," Anthony said politely. "Would you like an egg tart?"
Trelawney gazed into the void for a while and seemed to observe whether her future self accepted this egg tart, then she said vaguely, "Of course, since this is destined..."
Anthony also took an egg tart for himself, turned around to see Quirrell looking at him with a strange expression, and spread his hands at him.
"Wax—waxing moon?" Professor Quirrell asked quietly.
"I don't even know which day that is—I'm not an astrology or astronomy expert," Anthony said. "The egg tarts are really quite good. Worth recommending to you, Professor Quirrell."
Professor McGonagall walking nearby commented, "Don't worry, she likes welcoming new students with death predictions. For new colleagues, this is even friendly for her... You're right, Henry, the egg tarts are indeed very good."
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