Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle

The room was silent, and this silence seemed to slow down the passage of time. It was a bit unbearable, and Gray Shadow found it unbearable.

Damn, why is he still looking at me like that?

Believe it or doubt it, what he hates most is this condescending look!

He is clearly just an old wizard who is afraid of death, so why does he pretend to be so wise?

Gray Shadow Raven looked at him suspiciously for several times, unsure how much he believed, and couldn't help but confide again:

"The last memory I have is that someone used the power stored in the crown. It could be Helena, or it could be another wizard. He used Ravenclaw's unfinished research to call back the souls that should have passed away, protecting their souls and turning them into ghosts."

"Call back the dead souls and turn them into ghosts?"

Dumbledore repeated, staring at it for several seconds.

Gray Shadow was frightened by his look. He had seen that kind of look several times. The first time was in the Wu Orphanage in 1937. It seemed that it could see through all the secrets in one's heart.

But he also vaguely caught the old wizard's emotional fluctuations, some subtle but real fluctuations.

The gray shadow paused briefly and added tentatively, "The transformation of a ghost is extremely complex and extremely difficult to occur under natural conditions. Perhaps you've wondered why so many wizards in the world die with regret and resentment, yet only a handful are able to transform into ghosts and wander the human world..."

Dumbledore was silent. He did have doubts.

long, long ago.

Gray Shadow's tone was very light: "Ravenclaw's research transcends life and death. It can extend the lifespan of the living and recall the souls of the deceased. If handled properly, it is not impossible to bring the dead back to life."

Dumbledore was in a trance for a moment, as if he saw a bright face appearing before his eyes. His heart trembled slightly, and his eyes revealed a hint of dark blue.

The gray shadow suddenly laughed. Of course, the transformed bird's beak had no curve, but the smile radiated through the scarlet eyes.

Got you, Dumbledore.

Some stubborn and rigid old wizards are like this. The fear of death cannot overwhelm them, and they are willing to practice the belief that death is an adventure. What they care about is the death of other people, perhaps relatives or friends.

Dumbledore just happens to be such a wizard.

"Just wear this crown and grant me some insignificant magic power. You will possess wisdom comparable to that of Ravenclaw, and the mysteries of life and death will be revealed to you..."

"..."

Dumbledore lowered his eyes slightly and glanced at the raven-grey shadow. He originally wanted to continue to feign flattery to obtain information, but at this moment he suddenly lost his patience and waved his wand casually.

The mist floating in the air suddenly dissipated, and the gray shadow of the raven melted like a wax figure before it could react. The scarlet eyes in the air disappeared, leaving nothing behind.

With a click, the crown quickly fell back into place and the wooden box closed tightly.

Inside the Sorting Hat on the shelf, Fox looked at the wooden box in surprise, unable to understand the sudden change, and his dark eyes were a little surprised.

The inner room was quiet and dimly lit.

Dumbledore slowly sat back in his chair.

The bewitching words of Raven Gray Shadow just now were still echoing in his ears. He was not sure whether it was false information made up casually or there was really research on recalling the souls of the dead.

But he was sure that it was a trap set by Voldemort to lure him into it.

And this bait is particularly sweet.

Dumbledore took a deep breath and slowly closed his eyes.

"Ariana..."

……

A Muggle Studies professor got up late because the principal took him out for a late-night outing.

By the time Melvin finished washing up and went downstairs it was already past breakfast time, so he could only enjoy the staff meal in the kitchen. There was a rich variety of food, the elves were particularly welcoming, and the bread was freshly baked. He was not allowed to leave until he was a little bloated.

Walking out of the hall, Melvin glanced at the scenery in the distance. The treetops at the edge of the forbidden forest had turned yellow, and the branches and leaves of the bushes drooped, no longer as green as last week, but the sunlight was still very bright.

Autumn has come.

Young wizards in black magic robes were scattered across the venue, and there was constant laughter and noise on the Quidditch pitch and the shores of Black Lake. The students were enjoying the second weekend of the school year.

After passing through the school gate with a carving of a warthog with outstretched wings, Melvin continued walking forward for a distance, found a secluded and deserted stone platform, took out his wand from his inner pocket, and waved it gently. The air made a crisp sound, and he suddenly disappeared on the path of Hogsmeade.

"Snapped……"

A muffled sound came from a secluded corridor in Knockturn Alley.

Melvin once again stepped on the ground of this damp alley in the center of London. The soles of his feet still felt familiar and sticky. He couldn't tell whether it was moss or rotten and dried meat.

By the second visit, Melvin already had experience.

He reached out to straighten his collar, and the transformation spread along his clothes. The wool and polyester blend suit turned into a linen cloak, and the collar behind his neck extended, turning into a spacious and tight hood. The hem of the clothes fell naturally, covering his legs, and stopped just before touching the ground.

With a simple grooming and a gloomy expression, Melvin instantly blended into the neighborhood and was obviously a senior dark wizard from Knockturn Alley.

Following the same route as last time, they shuttled through the alleys and soon arrived at No. 12 Knockturn Alley. Melvin looked up at the copper sign covered with green rust and walked into the store.

The copper bell hanging behind the door made a crisp sound.

A hunchbacked middle-aged wizard soon appeared behind the counter. He frowned tightly and looked through the greasy hair hanging in front of his forehead. He carefully examined the mysterious wizard with his face covered at the door of the store. His eyes swept over the Ouroboros ring on the ring finger of his left hand, and his eyes were a little complicated.

"Why, Mr. Borgin didn't recognize me?" Melvin took off his hood and smiled gently.

"It's precisely because I recognize you that I feel embarrassed..." Mr. Borgin frowned, very conflicted. "I don't know whether to call you Mr. William or Professor Lewynter."

"You know it all?"

"Occasionally I go to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink. They're well-informed there..." Mr. Borgin's slick voice was a little difficult, not daring to look Melvin in the eye. "Old Tom and some of the patrons at the pub said there's a new Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts. Plus, you changed your mailing address to the Hogsmeade Owl Post before school started, so it's hard not to make connections."

"Well, I'm a professor at Hogwarts, but that won't affect our business, do you?"

"I think you're right." Mr. Borgin forced a smile that looked a little awkward.

The professors at Hogwarts were, after all, people of status, while they were the bugs of Knockturn Alley, the rats of the gutter, the negative examples in the school classroom. There shouldn't have been any interaction between the two sides, at least not on the surface.

There was once a core Death Eater like this. More than a decade ago, when he was still a Death Eater, he roamed openly in Knockturn Alley, brewing potions and selling them, and taking orders for banned potions. Although the prices were a bit high and his temper and attitude were very bad, both parties felt at ease doing business with him.

Later, that potion master became the Potions Professor at Hogwarts. Not only did he no longer accept orders for banned potions, he even stopped selling his finished potions publicly. He needed a referral and the supply of herbs and ingredients, and the brewing costs increased several times over. And if things didn't work, he didn't even offer compensation...

This is the gap brought about by identity.

If Professor Lewinter had worn a hood to conceal his identity when they first met, like he did today, they could still have a tacit understanding and friendly communication.

In this situation, if the new professor of Hogwarts visited Borgin and Burke's in Knockturn Alley, it would bring bad reputation to the professor and even worse reputation to Borgin and Burke's.

Not to mention the fact that he had to recommend this professor to attend a gathering of dark wizards. Every time Mr. Borgin thought of this, he felt dizzy.

While Mr. Bogin was struggling with his inner thoughts, he suddenly heard the young professor's voice coming from the door of the shop:

"Are those products you introduced last time still available? I want to buy them all."

! !

Mr. Borgin suddenly felt that the darkness in front of his eyes was no longer there, and his smile became brighter.

The golden light of Garlon is flashing!

Chapter 28 Heading to the Rally

“Hanging man with a noose;

“Opal necklace;

"Suffocating puppet..."

The merchandise that had been on the shelves for several years was moved away from its original location, leaving a slightly cleaner mark on the dusty wooden boards. It was then packed with special kraft paper to ensure that no black magic or curses would leak out, placed in the included wooden box, and sealed and locked.

These steps were a bit tedious but not complicated. Mr. Bogin was immersed in the pleasant busyness, going back and forth around the shelves several times, and still felt a little unsatisfied at the end.

Bogin returned to the counter and looked up to see Professor Lewynter waiting nearby. He observed the professor's expression, but unfortunately he could see nothing.

Mr. Borgin quickly regained consciousness, and fearing he was about to undercut him, he let out a mock sigh. "These items are of considerable value, though slightly flawed. If they could find a skilled alchemist, perhaps they could be restored to their former glory. Professor Lewynter, considering our friendship, I'm already offering a low price, even lower than I paid for them."

Melvin glanced at him and said, "It's only our second meeting, but you're willing to give us a 30% discount on our relationship. I'm surprised."

"It's been an honor to meet Professor Lewinter."

Mr. Borgin realized that he had no intention of bargaining, so he immediately put on a smile, pushed his nose and nose glasses, and while settling the bill, he asked in a slick tone: "Would you like to take these packaged goods? Our store provides an owl mail service, free of charge, and it will arrive at Hogwarts this evening..."

Melvin thought for a moment and said, "Then mail it back."

These things are used to design levels and nominally have legitimate uses, but dark magic items are dark magic items, and defective ones also need to be taken seriously. Bringing them back to school in a suitcase without reporting always feels like a disrespect for the principal's authority.

In comparison, owl mail is more suitable. At least Dumbledore can look at the list when signing for it.

It would be even better if he could get the bill reimbursed...

"When does the rally you mentioned in your letter begin?"

"We'll set off in half an hour."

……

A "Temporarily Closed" sign was placed inside the window;

Then cast a few warning spells on the copper bell;

I went outside and locked the door, then cast a few protective spells and anti-locking spells...

Mr. Borgin went through the entire process meticulously, with steps more elaborate than sealing cursed cargo. This level of care would surely earn him full marks in the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam.

Melvin was a little silent, and had a new understanding of the business environment in Knockturn Alley.

It took five minutes to complete the anti-theft measures, and then the two of them officially set off and stepped into the winding alleys of Knockover Alley.

Knockturn Alley is still dark and damp, with narrow and winding roads. There are almost no straight roads, and you have to turn several corners every time you walk a certain distance.

Only a few shops along the street had signs hanging on their heads. Some of them were boiling unknown liquids, and it was impossible to tell what kind of potion they were; some were rummaging through moldy herbs and crucibles; and some were just sitting idly at the door, only glancing at them when they passed by.

Expressionless and lifeless.

When passing the candle shop next door, Mr. Borgin slowed down his pace but increased his weight, making a noticeable sound. Before Melvin could ask why, he saw the half-open door of the shop suddenly open, and a skinny old wizard stuck his head out and shouted in a hoarse voice:

"Bogin! Since when have you started taking on tours?"

"Shut up, old salamander, and help me watch the store."

"..."

Melvin followed Mr. Borgin.

It was a bit unexpected, but also seemed reasonable.