Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 12: Professors at Hogwarts
The Hogwarts Express has arrived.

Professor McGonagall went to the entrance hall to greet the students. Professors from other subjects also arrived one after another, and there was another round of introductions and greetings.

"Good evening, young man!"

The one speaking in a loud voice was Sylvanus Kettleburn, the current professor of Care of Magical Creatures. He was missing half of one of his limbs, literally missing an arm or a leg, but it did not affect his joking at all.

"You must be the new Muggle Studies professor!"

Professor Keltburn swung his empty sleeves and said, "Dumbledore is really easy to talk to. Talented young people can directly teach!"

The old professor was so enthusiastic that Melvin couldn't get a word in.

"You guys came at a great time!"

Celtic Burn sighed and said, "When I was young, I went through 62 probationary periods just to stay at Hogwarts. Headmaster Armando Dippet always wanted to expel me. He didn't like me when he was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. It wasn't until Dumbledore took over as headmaster that my life became stable."

"Actually, it's because when Dumbledore took over, you only had one leg left and couldn't continue to struggle. Your personality had also become more stable, so Dumbledore felt relieved."

Professor Flitwick explained to Melvin, "Even so, he still went to the reserve every summer to see fire dragons and to the African wilderness to look for venomous beasts. That hand was torn off by a five-legged monster."

As Flitwick spoke, he turned to look at the professor, his eyes swept over his right hand, and his eyebrows suddenly frowned.

Kettleburn touched his nose with his right hand. Half of his little finger was missing, and the new flesh at the broken end was pink and tender, which seemed to be a scar from not long ago.

He explained with a wry smile, "Last month, I went to Romania to see a fire dragon. While observing the dragon eggs up close, I got so excited that I couldn't help but touch them twice, angering the incubating Australian eggplant... When the keeper pulled the dragon apart, my finger had already been eaten."

A tragic incident that caused disabling injuries, but when he described it, it sounded harmless. If you didn't know, you would think it was just a scratch while playing with a cat.

"..."

The professors present were speechless.

Melvin thought that Professor Celticburn must be a Gryffindor, but he didn't expect that he was a Hufflepuff graduate.

The person who staggered into the hall was Professor Sybill Trelawney of Divination. She was wearing a pair of huge round-framed glasses. The extremely thick lenses made her eyes look distorted and prominent, almost covering most of her face.

Sybill is a descendant of the true prophet Cassandra Trelawney, but after several generations of dwindling, the gift of prophecy has been passed down to the present day, and no one can be sure how much is left. Even the professor himself is skeptical.

Her unverifiable gift for prophecy, compared to the almost overflowing talents of several other professors offering elective courses, made this professor anxious and constantly worried that she would be fired. She spent most of her time away from her colleagues, staying in the hot and crowded North Tower, and her alcoholism was also the result of her inability to relieve her depression.

She has her own little cleverness and is well versed in the tricks of the prophets.

In order to keep her teaching position at Hogwarts, she developed a set of Muggle-style teaching methods.

On the one hand, he took advantage of the fact that the students were young and did not know how to conceal their thoughts, found a few of them with the most obvious characteristics, and then used their fear of bad luck and disaster to compile some seemingly plausible prophecies, portraying himself as an unfathomable prophet.

On the other hand, the difficulty of homework can be reduced to attract more students who prefer an easy life to take the course.

But only a very few wizards know that this professor has indeed inherited the talent of his ancestor Cassandra.

Sybill Trelawney reeked of alcohol. She greeted a few people, sat down and began to drink.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Lewinter." Professor Setima Victor sat down next to him.

As a derivative branch of divination, Professor Victor of Arithmancy is completely different from Trelawney. If Trelawney is a mysterious witch who talks nonsense, Victor is a rational scholar with his hair combed into a neat bun and the cuffs of his dark grey robe tightened. He looks neat and capable, but not as serious as Professor McGonagall.

"We all thought that Ms. Charity Burbage would take over the Muggle Studies class this year, but Dumbledore unexpectedly chose a new person... Lucky Charity, I heard that she has found a job in London and officially started her Muggle life."

Professor Bathsheda Barbling of Ancient Runes. Barbling took a sip of mead and said with envy, "How enviable! I also want to quit my job and go to Cairo, Egypt. I heard that new ancient ruins have been discovered there."

"I want to go to the Yucatan Peninsula. The astrology and arithmetic divination of the ancient Mayan shamans remain a mystery to this day."

"What's wrong with school?"

Trelawney took a sip of sherry and muttered incoherently, "I'd like to stay in Hogwarts forever..."

No one doubted her passion for Hogwarts, including the flying professor Madam Hooch, the school doctor Madam Pomfrey, and the librarian Madam Pince...

Melvin learned from Mrs. Pings that the package from Flourish and Blotts had been delivered and was placed in the storage room next to the library. He would go there to count the books when he had time.

A few minutes later, a pale young man came over, with a purple scarf wrapped around his head. He looked a little nervous. "Hello, Professor Levent, I'm Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Quirinus Quirrell."

"Hello, Professor Quirrell."

"..."

Perhaps because he was concerned about the strong herbal smell on his body, Quirrell simply said hello and hurriedly shrank to a corner to find a seat, glancing over here with his head down.

Looks a bit neurotic.

Babel whispered, "He used to be a professor of Muggle Studies, but he wasn't passionate about Muggle culture. Instead, he was very interested in ancient magic. He even audited my runes class, but when he heard that runes were mainly used in alchemy and it was difficult to exert powerful magic, he gave up.

"I heard he found some traces of ancient magic last year and went on an expedition to Albania during the summer vacation. It looks like he might have been injured."

"..."

Melvin looked at Quirrell, who was looking nervous in the corner, and found it amusing.

Voldemort is now just a weak ghost, without a physical form or magical power. His condition is similar to that of a ghost, and he can only sustain his consciousness by feeding on animal blood.

If they were not willing to cooperate, he would not be able to control even the lowest level goblins, let alone adult wizards.

In pursuit of powerful black magic, Quirrell went to Albania, but he only found Voldemort in this state. Not only did he fail to see his true face, but he was bewitched and willingly lowered his guard, opened his soul, gave his most important brain to Voldemort to parasitize, and offered his body to become a flesh and blood puppet.

Those herbs are used to treat the corruption caused by the deathly air infecting the flesh.

I wonder if this Defense Against the Dark Arts professor will regret it.

"Listen, they're coming."

"Gulu..."

Before he could gather his thoughts, the students had already arrived in the entrance hall. Professor Flitwick reminded them, and he could faintly hear the sound of the Thestrals' carriages slowly moving outside the castle.

Dumbledore also arrived late.

……

Night falls on Hogwarts.

The freshmen gathered in front of the oak door.

"Sorting is a very important ceremony...

"The names of the four houses are: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff...

"The house with the highest score at the end of the year will receive the House Cup."

Hermione followed Professor McGonagall in quick steps, her ears pricked up as if to write down every word the professor said. She walked along the stone floor to the side hall to wait, but in the end, despite listening carefully all the way, she didn't hear the specific process of the sorting.

Professor McGonagall turned her head to glance at the little witch and pursed her lips: "Wait here, please keep quiet, I will come to pick you up soon."

He turned and left after speaking. Hermione quietly exhaled; the professor's serious and tense expression made it difficult for her to breathe.

"What exactly is the Sorting Ceremony, Ron, and how can they guarantee accurate sorting?"

"It seemed like a test. My brother Fred said it was very dangerous, but I felt he was trying to scare me."

"..."

Hearing the two boys talking next to her, Hermione pursed her lips and began to recite the spells she had memorized, Miranda Goshawk's "The Standard Book of Spells: Elementary", which she had read and memorized before school started.

The students were chattering, ghosts were running through the walls and scaring people, and everyone here completely forgot the professor's advice to keep quiet.

When Professor McGonagall returned, the freshmen lined up and walked into the auditorium of the magic school, unable to help but exclaim in surprise.

Thousands of candles floated in the air, and four long tables were placed with glittering golden plates and high-heeled glasses, illuminating the auditorium.

The strong light made it impossible for them to open their eyes, but they were reluctant to close them, so they had to look up and away, only to find that even the dark dome was twinkling with stars.

"Merlin's socks..."

"Jesus's boots..."

Hermione couldn't contain her excitement and said in a low voice, "This place is enchanted. It looks like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History."

Harry and Ron beside them looked at each other and said nothing.

From the train compartment to the castle hall, she had said similar things hundreds of times. Compared with the amazing knowledge, the little witch's chattering voice and tone were really not worth paying attention to.

Hermione didn't care. She was concentrating on controlling the anxiety and nervousness in her heart.

The worn pointed wizard hat in front of him suddenly opened a wide slit, like a grinning mouth, and began to sing in a hoarse voice: "I am the Sorting Hat of Hogwarts, taller than any of your hats..."

It turns out that there is no need for any tests to be conducted for the separation, all you have to do is wear a hat.

"Come forward, Hannah Abbott, the name I called!"

"..."

When you are very nervous, you always feel that time passes very slowly, but when you calm down, the long time just now seems like a blink of an eye. This is Einstein's theory of relativity.

When Hermione came to her senses, she was already sitting at the Gryffindor table.

Only then could she calm down, listen to the conversations of her classmates around her and gather information, while taking a good look at the professor sitting in the guest of honor seat.

The nearest was Hagrid, the gamekeeper who had picked them up;

The main character is Headmaster Dumbledore, whose photos are published in many books and materials;

On the left are the four head of houses. Professor McGonagall is from Gryffindor.

On the right is the professor of the elective course.

"Divination, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes..."

Hermione's face flushed and her eyes sparkled. She was very interested in these courses: "And... Muggle Studies?"

She knew that Muggle was the name wizards used to refer to non-magical people.
That professor was very different from the other professors. He looked younger and his clothing style was out of place in the castle.

He was wearing a neat dark blue suit, a white Windsor collar shirt, and a silver-gray silk tie. His short black hair was simply combed, and his pair of dark eyes were calm and gentle, looking around like her.

Too muggle, not magical at all.

"You have to be in your third year to take elective courses..."

……

"Harry Potter."

"Gryffindor!"

As cheers resounded throughout the auditorium, the boy who attracted everyone's attention walked towards the Lion Dean's desk, his steps slightly staggering.

Maybe it's a little low blood sugar.

Melvin also took a few glances, but he was more concerned about the reactions of the professors present. He picked up his glass and glanced to the side calmly.

Dumbledore's secret operation succeeded, his plan went smoothly, and he was all smiles.

Quirrell buried his head, observing Potter quietly, his lips moving slightly, as if he was talking to himself.

The most interesting one was Snape. His eyes had been fixed on Potter, but perhaps he noticed Quirrell was also observing him, so he immediately turned his head and whispered a warning.

"You'd better behave yourself. Don't think no one notices you..."

"I don't understand you, Professor Snape."

"..."

Melvin looked at the auditorium which was gradually becoming lively, and couldn't help feeling a little emotional. Someone was designing a savior training plan, someone met the child of an old friend, and someone was planning the Philosopher's Stone. A wonderful drama was about to begin.

Suddenly he felt a little weird. Although he was studying in Ilvermorny, he was more familiar with Hogwarts Castle.

Well, now that things have come to this, let’s eat first.

……

"Well……"

Hagrid threw the last piece of chocolate mousse into his mouth. No new food appeared on the plate, and the sound of metal knives and forks colliding gradually stopped.

"Cough cough..."

Dumbledore cleared his throat, his bright blue eyes swept around, and the hall returned to silence: "Now that everyone has eaten and drunk enough, I want to say a few more words to everyone.

"First, let us welcome Professor Lewynter, who will be teaching Muggle Studies."

Warm applause broke out in the auditorium. The students generally welcomed the young and handsome professor, especially the little witches in their third year and above who had chosen to take Muggle Studies. They clapped particularly enthusiastically.

"And Professor Quirrell has volunteered to take the Defence Against the Dark Arts vacancy."

There was no applause this time; it was scattered and sparse. Professor Quirrell had not left a good impression on him before.

“At the beginning of the new semester, I would like to give you a few points to keep in mind:
"Firstly, the wooded area on the school grounds is off-limits to all students. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to remind everyone not to cast spells in the corridors during breaks. Quidditch tryouts will take place next week... and finally—"

Dumbledore raised his voice. "I must tell everyone that anyone who does not wish to suffer an accident or a painful death should not enter the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor."

Melvin always felt that he was not talking about precautions, but saying:

The mission clues have been updated, please go to the destination to check in time.

(End of this chapter)