Chapter 46: Punishment and a Quiet Walk to Hogsmeade
Professor McGonagall cast one final glance toward the office door—where Harry and Ron were pretending to be deeply absorbed in their notebooks—before turning and leaving without another word.
From farther down the corridor, Mr. Filch, who had been secretly observing the entire scene, rubbed Mrs. Norris affectionately while muttering with clear disappointment.
"Chains and whips in the dungeon… that's what would really teach those two brats a lesson."
Douglas snorted coldly and glanced at the Weasley twins.
"Keep going. If you can't recite it properly, you won't sleep tonight."
With that, he returned to his office.
George and Fred stared after him miserably.
"George… two hundred house points."
"Yeah," Fred groaned. "Losing points is easy. But how are we supposed to earn them back? Besides Quidditch?"
An hour later, Harry and Ron were finally released.
When they stepped out of the warm office, they found George and Fred still in the corridor. Their noses were red from the cold, and they were trying to shove their hands deep into their sleeves while leaning against a stone pillar and silently copying their notes.
Ron made a face at them.
Then he grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him down the corridor, barely containing his excitement.
He couldn't wait to get back to the Gryffindor common room and tell everyone what had happened tonight.
The Next Morning
Early the next day, Douglas mailed the latest chapter of his manuscript to Slaine.
In the same letter, he asked him to help place an order for seven Nimbus 2001 broomsticks—intended as a gift for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.
Slaine worked quickly.
While Douglas was patrolling the practical training classroom later that day, he saw a Hufflepuff student hurrying excitedly through the crowded corridor.
The boy rushed over to Cedric, who was standing in line, and whispered something to him while pointing toward Douglas.
Cedric's eyes widened immediately.
In front of all the confused students nearby, he suddenly shouted,
"Professor Holmes—that's incredible!"
Then he turned and sprinted toward the Hufflepuff common room without another word.
Anyone watching could see the enormous grin stretching across his face.
Douglas simply smiled and said nothing.
After a simple lunch, Douglas allowed himself a rare nap.
When he woke in the afternoon, he set off alone toward Hogsmeade.
Along the way, many older students greeted him.
Some girls even glanced his way and whispered to one another with amused smiles.
Walking along the familiar road, Douglas suddenly felt a quiet sense of loneliness.
Everything here felt so familiar.
Hogsmeade was the only village in Britain populated entirely by wizards, founded centuries ago by Hengist of Woodcroft.
Students in their third year and above were allowed to visit on weekends with parental permission.
The street was lined with shops and pubs.
Back when he had been a student, Douglas used to come here nearly every weekend with Bill and Charlie Weasley.
He knew many of the shopkeepers personally.
Honeydukes
When the owner of Honeydukes saw him, she immediately beamed and stuffed a handful of sweets into his hands.
"Congratulations, Douglas! It's been ages. I heard you became a professor at Hogwarts!"
"I asked Ambrose if we could send you a box of sweets as a gift. He's in the warehouse restocking now, otherwise he'd definitely drag you out for a drink."
Douglas laughed.
Some years earlier, he had persuaded Bill and Charlie to make several kinds of sweets—ginger candy, dragon's beard candy, and winter melon candy.
They had consigned the sweets to Honeydukes for sale.
Later, Douglas had sold the recipes outright to the shop owners for fifty Galleons.
The techniques were simple enough that someone would eventually replicate them anyway, so fifty Galleons had been a generous offer.
Since then, they had remained on excellent terms.
Douglas accepted the sweets gratefully.
"Unfortunately I have to attend afternoon tea with Professor McGonagall today," he said apologetically.
"Next time I'll definitely have a drink with Uncle Ambrose."
Mrs. Puddifoot's
Douglas hurried past Mrs. Puddifoot's Tea Shop without slowing down.
He absolutely did not want the owner to come out and greet him.
Once, out of curiosity, he and Bill—whose long hair had made him look suspiciously like a girl from behind—had gone there for tea.
That very evening, rumors had spread through Hogwarts claiming that Hufflepuff Holmes had been seen dating a red-haired girl.
Although the misunderstanding had eventually been cleared up—and the Slytherin who started the rumor had been forced to apologize—Mrs. Puddifoot still liked to tease them about it whenever she saw them.
Now that Douglas was a professor, the situation would be far worse if students heard that story again.
Bill wasn't here this time to help take the blame.
And there certainly wouldn't be a helpful Slytherin volunteer stepping forward to confess.
Beyond the Three Broomsticks stood the Hogsmeade Post Office.
Turning down a narrow road beside it led to a crossroads where the Hog's Head Inn stood—a rough tavern run by Aberforth Dumbledore, the Headmaster's brother.
Douglas had once gone there with Bill.
It had been an unforgettable experience—and not in a good way.
A crude wooden sign hung above the door, painted with the image of a severed pig's head wrapped in white cloth.
The tavern itself was dark and shabby, filled with the heavy smell of sheep.
Douglas and Bill had barely stepped inside when the smell of mutton made them start discussing recipes instead of ordering drinks.
Hot-pot lamb.Roast whole lamb.Lamb and carrot dumplings.Lamb buns.Lamb skewers.Roasted ribs.Braised trotters.Braised lamb cheeks…
A moment later, Aberforth had thrown them out.
And informed them very seriously that they were banned from entering the Hog's Head for the rest of their lives.
Douglas shook the memory from his mind and approached the Three Broomsticks.
Pushing open the door, he was greeted by a wave of warm air.
The pub was bright, spacious, and lively.
His only disappointment was that Madam Rosmerta was not standing behind the bar.
Instead, she was chatting with several guests in a booth surrounded by decorative plants.
Douglas could hear Hagrid's booming laugh from across the room.
He walked over.
Before he even reached the booth, Rosmerta spotted him.
She spread her arms wide.
"Look who's here—Mr. Holmes!"
"Long time no see, Douglas! Congratulations on becoming a professor at Hogwarts!"
Douglas laughed and returned the hug.
"Good afternoon, Miss Rosmerta."
"You're as dazzling and beautiful as ever."
Hagrid winked at the others.
"See? What did I tell you? First person he notices is Rosmerta."
Everyone burst into laughter.
Only then did Douglas realize who else was sitting there.
Professor McGonagall.Professor Sprout.Professor Flitwick.Professor Sinistra.Professor Kettleburn.
And Hagrid.
Every single one of them had been his teacher at Hogwarts—except Hagrid.
Douglas coughed awkwardly.
"Good afternoon… professors."
Rosmerta pulled up a chair for him.
"To celebrate Professor Holmes today, all the professors drink free!"
Professor Kettleburn chuckled and pointed at the bottle on the table.
"Today we're the ones benefiting from Douglas. Otherwise it would be difficult to get hold of such a rare bottle of Holmes Wine!"
Rosmerta laughed as she poured drinks.
"When have I ever refused you wine, Professor? The problem is the low production."
"You know there are only so many green plums available."
"But today the founder of Holmes Wine is here—so naturally everyone gets a glass!"
Holmes Wine was, in fact, a simple plum wine.
Green plum saplings were rare. When Douglas had first obtained one, he had planned to grow it in the Hogwarts greenhouses.
Professor Sprout had refused.
However, Rosmerta happened to own a small greenhouse in Hogsmeade.
Douglas had suggested planting the tree there and gifted her the recipe for plum wine in return.
When the wine was finally produced, Rosmerta named it Holmes Wine.
In gratitude, she promised Douglas a free glass every week—and permission to bring a guest.
The reason Douglas loved plum wine so much was simple.
In his previous life, it had been his favorite drink.
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