The Pacifist Necromancer of Hogwarts

Chapter 314 Afternoon Tea Discussion and Breakfast Nonsense
"By the way, Henry, I met Professor Marchbank not long ago." Professor Bubbaji suddenly said after drinking half a cup of tea, "She asked me how I was preparing for the OWLs and NEWTs this year, and I told her that I was doing very well."

Anthony said, "Thanks for the encouragement, Caridi."

Madam Griselda Marchbank was a highly respected director of the Wizarding Examinations Authority and one of the elders of the Wizengamot. Given Professor Burbage's long title and past experience, Anthony was not surprised that they knew each other.

Professor Bubbage continued, "I think she looked quite happy. She said she would ask the examination panel to increase the difficulty of the exam. The pass rate for Muggle Studies was a bit high last year."

Anthony held up his teacup and looked at her without saying anything. Professor Bubbaji met his gaze and suddenly laughed out loud: "I have confidence in you, Henry."

"Um..." Anthony said sarcastically, "Thanks a lot."

Professor Bubaji said, "I thought you had great confidence in the students. Didn't you give almost all of them an E or higher grade prediction?"

Anthony complained, "You know how difficult the OWLs exam questions were in previous years, Keridi."

Professor Bubaji smiled and said, "Yes, I know."

Anthony sighed in annoyance, then quickly started laughing again.

"Well, well, that's all right," he said. "Luckily, my standards aren't high. At least I can say that the students are more understanding of Muggles than before... to me, that's progress." He put the teacup back on the stump and began to concentrate on his cake.

"That's really not a very high bar to ask," Professor Sprout said.

"Have you thought about what kind of students you would allow into your advanced classes, Henry?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"No." Anthony said lightly, "The advanced class is Caridi's class."

"They will be yours," Professor Bubbaji said. "I've been saying for two years that I have a lot of things I want to do besides teaching. As for the advanced class, my standard is O, because... well, you know how difficult the OWLs exam questions are in previous years."

Anthony said, "Okay. What are the criteria for the advanced Herbology class, Pomona?"

"Excellent (O) or good (E), depending on the results of the previous year." Professor Sprout said, lifting the lid of the teapot and looking inside. "Usually it's good, but I remember one year the questions were so easy that more than half of the people got excellent."

Professor Bubbage nodded. "I remember that year. The expert group of Herbology was reprimanded by Professor Marchbank. They didn't dare to go near her office during the half month when the results were counted." She pondered, "So, last year's Muggle Studies group might have been reprimanded as well. No wonder they were unhappy in the letter."

"What about Charms?"

"Good, that's enough," squeaked Professor Flitwick, controlling the fire charm under the teapot to prevent it from igniting the second greenhouse. "Good for Transfiguration too, isn't it, Minerva?"

"The requirements for most subjects are good," said Professor McGonagall.

Professor Sinistra said, "Astronomy is excellent because... because," she gestured in the air with her free hand, then tilted her head back and drank all the tea in the cup, then put the cup back on the stump and said irritably, "Astronomy doesn't need people who can't even get an O in OWLs!"

"Absolutely," said Snape coolly.

"I'm tired of being laughed at by the centaurs," Professor Sinistra said. "The centaurs were standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest the night of the OWLs astronomy practical last year. I never want to - ever again - see the look on their faces when they hear students arguing about whether there is Mars in the sky."

Anthony turned his head to look at Snape. Snape had a gloomy expression on his face that said "I've had enough of students", so Anthony turned his head back and decided not to ask about the origin of the increase in class standards in Potions.

Professor Flitwick extinguished the flame as the kettle screamed. "Speaking of OWLs, Severus, did you know that Mr. Bol intended to use the Bubblehead Charm instead of the cauldron to stop the knowledge from evaporating from his head?"

"No," said Snape dryly. "In fact, I can hardly help but applaud Bol for coming up with such a brilliant idea without my or Poppy's involvement."

"Oh, that," said Professor McGonagall. "That might be my suggestion - if that's what you want to understand it."

"what?"

"I saw him put his bag over his head. So I told him that if he ran around the corridor like a horned beast again, I would ask Filius to put a Bubblehead Charm on him." Professor McGonagall said calmly, "At least he can still see the way."

……

After that, the topic quickly turned from the stupid things students did because of anxiety before exams, to the various applications of the Bubblehead Charm and variant spells beyond the standard spell, and then to the standard size of crucibles - Professor Bubbaji mentioned that the Ministry of Magic seemed to be planning to set up an office specifically to study the manufacturing standards of crucibles or something like that - and the resistance of crucibles to various spells and Transfiguration.

As they chatted about the hardness of the cauldron, Professor McGonagall informed them that Harry had left the hospital wing in good health and intact.

"Where's the house-elf?" Anthony asked. "Dobby?"

"He is still in school, but unless Mr. Malfoy is attacked, we ask him not to use magic in Hogwarts again." Professor McGonagall looked at Anthony meaningfully, "We also ask him not to speak ill of the professors anymore."

"What bad words?" Professor Bubaji asked sharply, also looking at Anthony.

Anthony lowered his head to get the second piece of cake. "Maybe it means I didn't get any OWLs certificate."

"Don't let Dolores hear this," Professor Sprout warned gently. "She might take this as further evidence that Albus hires professors arbitrarily."

Anthony said vaguely, "It is."

"That's nonsense," said Professor Bubaggi.

... "Nonsense," Lockhart said, shaking his head. "Honestly, Henry, I've long been accustomed to these slanders. It's all nonsense... Well, fame comes with applause, but also, of course, those malicious speculations and jealousy lurking in the dark. When I was in Kosice, the local dark forces spared no effort to try to ruin my reputation..."

"What's going on, Professor Lockhart?" Anthony asked between bites of potato cake, feeling like he was trying to use a fence to block an incoming flood, every wave of which was surging with words like "fame" and "adventurer" and "Order of Merlin".

White clouds moved slowly and leisurely across the ceiling above them, revealing a calm, blue sky.

The weather was surprisingly good that day, and the bright sunshine filled the cool air with a certain calming smell. So when the cat crawled into the quilt and woke him up, Anthony just grumbled a few words, squinted at the morning light falling into the room from above the curtains - everything in the room, the chandelier, the coat rack, the wardrobe, the cat food bowl, the cat bed, and the mouse tail hanging out of the cat bed, all stayed quietly in the drowsy, half-light shadows - he turned over and fell asleep again.

The consequence of getting up later than usual was that he ran into Lockhart on his way to the Great Hall, and had the undoubted honour of sitting next to him at breakfast.

"Oh, nothing, really," said Lockhart, with another broad smile. "Don't think I'm complaining. Like I say, I'm used to it. The Daily Owl is always trying to accuse me of having affairs with its devoted readers, The Quibbler says I'm really an ogre who sucks the brains out of people at book signings . . . But do I care? I never do. People always have something to say. Mark my words, if you ever become as famous as I am - don't look at me like that, Henry, all right, I know it's almost impossible - but if you ever become famous at all, you'd know . . . "

Anthony nodded perfunctorily and moved a sausage to his plate as Lockhart talked.

Suddenly, he heard the name Rita Skeeter appear in Lockhart's mouth.

"I'm just a little surprised that the Daily Prophet published Rita's article like that," said Lockhart. "Barnabas told me - he is the editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet, a very good man, honest and serious - he once told me that he thinks half of Rita's report comes from distortion and the other half comes from delusion, but some people just like to see her maliciously guessing what others think..."

At this time, Professor Sprout walked into the hall with brisk steps, his robes covered with mud and dust.

"Good morning, Henry. Good morning, Gilderoy." She sat down on Anthony's other side. "It's a lovely day today, isn't it? It looks like we'll have a good harvest of herbs this year. The mandrakes are growing very well, and the poison tentacles. The Whomping Willow is a little sluggish though..."

"Good morning, Pomona," Lockhart said. "Don't worry. If you encounter any problems with herbology, you know I am always willing to provide guidance and help. As you all know, I have long made up my mind to never stop my steps to eliminate the forces of the Dark Magic, and I am always happy to use my magic to solve problems for others... So I never care about those rumors and always maintain my friendliness..."

Professor Sprout replied with some surprise, "Of course, Gilderoy."

She looked at Anthony, trying to get some clues, but Anthony could only shake his head in the same blankness. They spent more than ten minutes listening to Lockhart talk about how kind, optimistic and confident he was a strong adventurer, until Lockhart remembered that he should go show Hagrid how to drive the water monster out of the well.

As soon as he left, Professor Sprout asked, "What's going on?"

"Have you subscribed to the Daily Prophet, Pomona?" Anthony asked.

Professor Sprout said, "Oh, of course, I just haven't found the time to read it yet--" She fumbled in her bag for a while, placing a few shovels and herb hoes on the table, and then pulled out the crumpled Daily Prophet, shook off the dust, and revealed Mr. Crouch's distorted face on the front page.

"What's wrong?" she asked, flipping through the newspaper. Broken grass stems and leaves occasionally fell out from between the pages. "Barty Crouch called for strengthening international magical exchanges and cooperation... Oh, Bug's insect repellent is going to increase in price again. This is the second time this year... Oops!"

She suddenly uttered a low exclamation and skimmed through one of the pages. Anthony glanced and saw words like "Professor Lockhart" and "Hogwarts".

Professor Sprout tilted the newspaper in his direction, and Anthony moved over to read it with her.

"At only 29 years old, the charming Gilderoy Lockhart is already a famous adventurer and writer. In addition, he accepted Albus Dumbledore's invitation last year to become the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. His perfect smile always makes everyone who approaches him feel warm..."

Anthony said: "That doesn't seem to be a problem."

Professor Sprout read the newspaper with a subtle expression.

"Keep watching, Henry," she said. "Keep watching."

Anthony read on, skipping over the paragraph describing Lockhart's achievements. The list of honors and titles he could recite was longer than that.

“…Behind his handsome face, there seems to be a heart that is not so radiant.

"'I think he might be a bit of a bad character,' said Millicent Bulstrode. 'He's not the adventurous Lockhart I imagined.' She was a lively and lovely second-year Slytherin who was happy to share details of her studies with us.

"'In the first lesson,' she recalled, 'Professor Lockhart brought a cage of Cornish pixies to teach us how to defend ourselves against these horrible magical creatures. They were horrible. They screamed and flew about and threw inkwells and parchment everywhere. . . Professor Lockhart taught us a spell to combat the most evil creatures known to the wizarding world - that's what he must have said - but I have forgotten it.'

"However, when another incident was mentioned (the writer happened to hear that Professor Lockhart had played a prominent part in a rather amusing story involving slugs), Miss Bulstrode immediately declined to discuss it further.

"After much probing and questioning, another student who wished to remain anonymous finally hinted that they were asked not to discuss the matter. Some speculated that Professor Lockhart played a less than glorious role in it, but those who knew about it were asked to remain silent forever. In order to protect the students, the author had to give up the topic.

"In addition, having a popular new colleague like Professor Lockhart seems to make the already closed and exclusive Hogwarts extra vigilant.

Professor Filius Flitwick, despite being Professor Lockhart's former professor and dean, refuses to call Professor Lockhart his favorite student. He maintains a polite but skeptical attitude towards Professor Lockhart's achievements, and thinks that the series of activities organized by Professor Lockhart since he enrolled are quite boring.

"Potions Professor Severus Snape suggested that Dumbledore should be more cautious in choosing the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and inadvertently revealed that it was Dumbledore who insisted on inviting Professor Lockhart at the beginning of the semester, making him the current Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Although Dumbledore is an old lunatic who is conservative and rigid in his thinking, he obviously has a different view of this handsome and dashing adventurer, which undoubtedly brought more hostility and doubts to Professor Lockhart.

"It seems that Professor Lockhart is having a tougher time at Hogwarts than in his previous adventures: people are beginning to doubt whether he is as powerful and helpful as he claims to be.

“In the face of scrutiny from students and former teachers, is the seemingly perfect appearance really that indestructible? I believe that readers will make their own judgments, but at this moment, perhaps we should pray for the students who are caught up in these undercurrent disputes.

"(For reports suggesting that the Cornish pixie be downgraded from XXX-level magical creatures to XX-level magical creatures, please see page 14 of this newspaper.)"

Professor Sprout quietly put down the newspaper.

"Oops," Anthony said.

(End of this chapter)