Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle

"call……"

There was a slight sound of wind in the room.

From under the cracks at the bottom of the brown wooden door, fine dust flew out and landed on the ground in front of the office door, forming a layer of floating dust.

A faint silver light flickered through the gaps.

This bottle of silver substance was mixed by Wright. When making it, he referred to the silver mist formula in the meditation basin and made appropriate adjustments based on Melvin's needs. However, it did not have the rune array engraved on the container stone basin, so people could not enter the memory scene or truly feel the scene at that time. However, this was exactly what they needed.

Wright's letter mentioned that he was experimenting with making a cloud container, similar to what Muggles call a screen.

Melvin observed the silver mist floating in the bottle and pulled out the rubber stopper.

Tiny particles of light floated out of the glass bottle, and misty silver-white clouds filled the entire room. Its state was between that of gas and liquid, light and weightless, flowing almost like liquid, like the mist floating in the forbidden forest in the early morning.

Pulling out a wisp of memory to touch the silver-white clouds, the silver fluorescence spread like ripples, and these shapeless mists soon showed the scene in memory. Mount Greylock on a midsummer afternoon, the water was clear and transparent, and the shade of the trees was connected to each other, completely replicating the appearance in memory.

However, it is impossible to replicate the experience beyond the visual and auditory experience. The picture shows a midsummer afternoon, and the heat in the mountains is dispelled by the shade of trees and springs. In reality, it is early autumn in the Scottish Highlands, and there is already a hint of coolness.

The subjective recollection in my mind still seems to feel the coolness of the spring water, but it's a bit hazy and unreal. Memory is like that: the longer it passes, the more hazy it becomes, blurring the images, sounds, and touch until only an emotional perception remains.

Important and profound memories will ferment over time and become stronger and stronger, while some memories will evaporate until they disappear into nothingness.

Melvin sat behind his desk, thinking quietly.

As a professor at Hogwarts, after three weeks of teaching, his unique Muggle teaching style has affected almost all students in the school. Even the young wizards who have never taken Muggle classes will be indirectly influenced by their classmates or roommates. The seeds planted by Professor Lewynter have taken root.

He could feel a noticeable increase in magic power every moment, weak but steady.

At present, this influence has only spread among the students of Hogwarts. When Wright's screen design is completed and the plan proceeds as expected, the effect achieved may be completely different.

"..."

Melvin came back to his senses and looked at the shadow of memory in the room. He reached out and dipped his hand into the spring water, cupped his hands together, and carefully scooped a handful of clear water from his memory.

The clouds of memory are just images, and the air in the real office is just air. Touching the water in memory is like looking for the truth in the illusion of nothingness. Even for a wizard, this is an action that is doomed to be fruitless.

Melvin did it extremely seriously and meticulously, and the whole process was so slow that the movements looked a little difficult.

It was a simple movement that even a child could do, but he seemed to be struggling to do it.

"Wow..."

The moment his hands were lifted out of the water, water splashed and a slight but real sound was heard in the room.

Melvin looked down at his hands. There was no water on the palms of his hands, but the backs of his hands had become wet. A few drops of water slid down the backs of his hands, feeling cold and a little itchy.

Water droplets fell on the table, soaking Wright's letter paper.

There are many spells that can create water out of thin air, but these drops are not water condensed from a spring, nor are they water created by transfiguration, but real water droplets.

Turning false fantasies into reality, reaching the most essential secrets of magic...

Melvin couldn't help but smile.

He doesn't need the Philosopher's Stone; he is the Philosopher's Stone.

Chapter 37 Professor McGonagall Lies

As a closed-door school, Hogwarts's daily necessities are centrally purchased by the elves, who also purchase festive items during major holidays. The long-term and stable order volume attracts many Hogsmeade merchants to collaborate with them.

The payment time is not fixed, usually about half a month, and the payment period is neither long nor short. Fortunately, Hogwarts never defaults on payments.

Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall would come to check on the items, and occasionally gifts made by professors would be included. Professor Snape's potions were the most popular.

This time, the person who accompanied the vice principal to settle the payment was a new face.

The young wizard, dressed in a neat long trench coat, had a friendly smile and could give useful business advice during casual conversation. The merchants in Hogsmeade immediately accepted Professor Lewinter, who had just joined the company this year.

Around 4:30 in the afternoon, the Vice-Principal and the new professor finished their work and returned to Hogwarts, just entering the school gate.

"Melvin, thank you for accompanying me to Hogsmeade. I must say, you behaved perfectly today."

Professor McGonagall had a smile on her face and was extremely satisfied with her new colleague. She had lost count of how many discounts Melvin had helped her negotiate. It was much better than a certain boss who was lazy and evasive.

"I'm glad I could help you, Professor McGonagall. I've also gained some knowledge from this." Melvin replied with a smile.

"It's been almost a month since you came to Hogwarts. How are you feeling? Are you adjusting?"

"It couldn't be better."

“How are you getting along with the students? Is teaching going well?”

"It went very smoothly..."

Listening to Melvin talking about that unique teaching method, Professor McGonagall felt helpless. As a teacher with decades of teaching experience, this teaching method of completing a semester's course in a week seemed like black magic to her.

But she also admitted that judging by the test results, this strange teaching method is effective.

In a few years, it would be better if Professor Lewint could be more stable.

The path extended towards the castle. As the sun set in the west, the originally dark castle and grounds were dyed with a layer of orange, making the whole school more lively.

There were students who were not in class chasing and playing in the field. When the lower grade students saw Professor McGonagall approaching, they immediately lowered their heads and hurried away. There was no reverence in their bouncing steps, but more like they were deliberately being naughty. After running far away, they stopped and continued to play.

Senior students all knew that the vice-president had a cold exterior but a warm heart. Not only did they not run away, but some students who took the Muggle Studies class would even come over to say hello when they saw Professor Lewinter next to them.

As we walked closer to the Quidditch pitch, the sounds of laughter and playfulness became louder.

This afternoon is the flying class for the freshmen. They are practicing on the field before the get out of class is over.

In the corner of the court, a small figure stood at the edge of the field, with his brown curly hair looking a little messy, and he tilted his head to stare at the classmates flying above the court.

I can't see his expression clearly, and his back looks a little lonely.

Melvin couldn't help but take a few more glances.

Professor McGonagall followed his gaze and said, "That child..."

The next moment, the quiet stadium suddenly erupted into warm cheers. Harry Potter did another flip, and the Gryffindor students celebrated by high-fiving on their brooms. The students watching on the ground were also cheering, but no one paid any attention to the little witch.

Longbottom was the only one who wanted to come over, but when he saw that no one else had gone over, he didn't dare to go over either, and he hesitated and was entangled in his place.

Everyone else was cheering and celebrating, but the little witch stood out. Her broom flew through the air, and the wind blew her robes and hair. Her small figure stood with her back straight, all alone.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips, still feeling a little sorry for the students of her own academy, and walked towards the little witch.

Melvin followed Professor McGonagall.

Hermione Granger looked up at their flying posture, her tense little face full of stubbornness, her eyes wide open without blinking. She compared the flying techniques in the book with their movements, and was about to simulate them in her mind when she noticed two figures approaching from the side.

In the afterglow of sunset, the two professors slowly approached and stood beside her.

One was her own head of house, Professor McGonagall, who was wearing a proper black robe, with her lips slightly pursed, and her eyes were gentle as she looked at her.

The other was Professor Lewynter of Muggle Studies, who looked really young, about the same age as a seventh-year student.

He was wearing a long trench coat, the collar ruffled by the evening breeze, partially covering the outline of his face. A few strands of black hair were ruffled by the wind, hanging on his forehead, which made him look indescribably handsome. His pair of dark eyes were also gentle, and he lowered his head to look at him.

Two professors suddenly came over...

Could it be that he was discovered during his last night outing?

Am I going to be expelled from school?

Hermione's expression froze, her face pale, and she looked up at the two professors with some panic in her eyes.

Professor McGonagall didn't understand what was wrong with the little witches nowadays. She was a little serious in class, but not as serious as Severus, who was so scared that he couldn't speak just by being close to her.

Thinking of today's date, her eyes softened a little, and she squatted down to look at the little witch at eye level: "Granger, why don't you go to practice?"

"..."

It's not about a night tour of the castle.

Hermione came to her senses and remained silent.

Today's flight class is a group practice. Considering that many students have just learned how to take off and are not familiar with landing, they need a companion to watch over them.

Unfortunately, there was an odd number of students in the class, and they were divided into groups of two, so she was the one left.

Hermione knew why she was the one left.

The four roommates always got together in their spare time to chat about all kinds of weird topics, such as gossip about Professor Snape and the Malfoy family, Professor Lewynter's clothes, Professor Flitwick's mustache... Hermione felt that these topics were a waste of time. She would rather go to the library and read a few more pages of books for entertainment. After half a month, her roommates stopped talking to her.

The reason why the boys distanced themselves from her was probably because during the Charms class today, she couldn't help but correct their improper casting movements.

In fact, Madam Hooch had anticipated this situation and had originally planned to personally supervise Hermione's practice, but the boys flew too fast and too quickly. In order to prevent an accident like last time, she could only take care of the boys first.

So she was left here.

Melvin glanced at the court and roughly understood what was going on. Seeing that the little witch didn't want to answer, he didn't expose her.

He also squatted down. "You don't like flying class, right? Compared to courses that rely on other brains, flying class is really boring. Anyway, there's no exam, so if you can't practice well, then you can't practice well."

Hermione didn't know how to answer and continued to remain silent, with a hint of joy in her heart.

It turns out there's no exam required for flying lessons.

Professor McGonagall: "..."

"Melvin, how can you say that? Flying lessons are not insignificant courses. Quidditch culture has a profound influence in the wizarding world..."

Professor McGonagall looked at the little witch and said, "Quidditch is fun. Flying is fun too once you master the skills. It takes practice. It's normal to find it difficult at first. You will master it with practice. I wasn't a good flyer when I was in school either."

"Professor, you're lying."

"??"

Chapter 38 Girl’s Thoughts

Hermione pursed her lips, looked at the professor who was comforting her, and whispered, "Professor, I've seen your photo in the trophy room. I know you were the captain of the Quidditch team and led Gryffindor to win many championships."

"Ah……"

Melvin closed his mouth tightly, but a faint laugh still leaked from his nose. Facing the gazes of the two Gryffindor witches, he looked away as if nothing had happened: "Ahem... I saw a freshman bump into a tree."

Professor McGonagall was a little embarrassed. She had wanted to encourage her students with a white lie, but she didn't expect to be exposed directly.

She stroked the little witch's hair and said, "Everyone has their own strengths. Don't feel lost, Granger."

"I know, Professor."

"Also, happy birthday."