Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 81 Trailer Boom

1992, October.

The cold weather has faded in Wiltshire in northern England, and the weather has warmed up, with spring in the air. At night, scattered lights are lit in West Overton. It is not as prosperous as a big city, but has the simple temperament of a country village.

The evening breeze was mixed with the rich fragrance of hyacinths. The branches were carefully trimmed, not dense but beautiful, hanging lightly in the flower beds on both sides of the street. There was a tavern at the end of the road with a sign hanging at the door: Oak Barrel Tavern.

Like many other wizarding taverns, the second floor provides accommodation services, while the first floor entertains customers. Laughter, scolding, clinking of bells, and the sound of glasses clinking together can be faintly heard from inside the tavern.

"Damn it, man!"

"Drink it up, baby!"

"Now you know who's the boss!?"

The space was spacious and brightly lit. At the round table in the middle of the room, a middle-aged wizard with an unshaven beard held up a glass of fire whiskey with an embarrassed look on his face. However, with the witness of the surrounding drinkers, he still tilted his head back and gulped it down.

The booing around them grew louder and louder.

As the flaming whiskey rolled down his throat, the middle-aged wizard's face flushed red, and even his thick beard couldn't block it. A burp spewed out a brilliant ring of fire. The middle-aged wizard could no longer hold on, and the glass fell, and he fell drunkenly on the round table. No matter how the wizards next to him cheered, he couldn't get up.

This was Cripple Old Will's pub, home to the strongest liquor in Britain. Their signature drinks were Mad Hatter's Malt, Rainstorm Brandy, Phantom Champagne, and even their Fire Whisky, which was stronger than others and had a higher alcohol content.

The tavern erupted in laughter again.

Nearby, at the counter, a dozen or so wizards gathered in front of a large mirror. It was showing the recent Hogwarts house match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. The Boy-Who-Lived made his second appearance...

The game is thrilling, with the footage edited and spliced ​​from different perspectives. Most of the time, it's an open view of the audience and commentary, with enough visibility to overlook the court, but the footage is focused near the Quaffle and Bludgers.

When the two sides clash, the screen will cut to the player's first-person perspective, giving a sense of immersion. The strong sensory stimulation makes the brain particularly crave alcohol and ice. Occasionally, a hot-blooded wizard will treat the whole audience to a drink.

Both the drinkers and the waiters are accustomed to such scenes. The business in one night is enough to rival that of half a month.

Several officials and subordinates of the Ministry of Magic sat at a round table in the corner, wearing their Ministry uniforms under their wizard robes. Each of them held a glass of signature liquor, but they didn't dare to drink it all in one gulp. They could only savor it in small sips, enjoying it with relish.

Ludo Bagman was the organizer of the party, but those present were mainly from the Department of Law Enforcement, including the current Director Amelia Bones, Rufus Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Office, and Pius Thicknesse, who was in charge of the Striker team.

Barty Crouch from the International Affairs Cooperation Department got off work late and happened to be drafted as he was entering the elevator. For some complicated reasons that are inconvenient to disclose, he didn't really want to go home too early, so he came over reluctantly to keep her company.

"Powerful shot! I knew that girl could score, with those two Weasley boys cooperating on the wing!"

Ludo Bagman spoke in a rough voice, drank half a glass of cold beer, let out a long breath, and showed a rather regretful expression.

If it were a real-time match, you could place a bet and win money right now, but unfortunately it's all recorded, so those who are more informed know the outcome, and there's no one taking advantage of the opening of the betting.

Piers Thicknesse was holding a glass of cherry wine. He couldn't hold his liquor well, and his willpower wasn't strong enough, so he was worried about embarrassing himself by drinking strong liquor.

He looked at his colleague who was also drinking light wine, and felt more comforted. "Bati, how are things going over there lately? Is India still clamoring to sell their flying carpet?"

Crouch hummed indifferently. It was fine when he was young, but ever since the last wizarding war, he has had no good feelings towards Aurors and strikers. After all, his son is a Death Eater.

Ms. Bones and Scrimgeour looked at each other in silence.

Throughout Europe, the business of flying equipment is monopolized by a few pure-blood forces, including the Sweep Company of the British Allerton brothers, the Comet Trading Company of the French Cage and Horton families, the Black Forest Company of the Italian Ellerby and Spadmore families, and the Universe Company jointly founded by several artisan wizard families.

Every year, large sums of Galleons are donated to the Ministries of Magic in various countries in exchange for production and sales licenses for flying brooms.

Without interests to pave the way, even if India applies hundreds or thousands of times, the sale of flying carpets will still be banned in the whole of Europe.

Crouch took a sip of the light wine and said, "Amelia, it seems that Fudge is determined to make Umbridge your deputy minister. What are your plans?"

"What plans can she make?" Madam Bones thought of the witch, a trace of disgust flashing in her eyes. "Anyway, I will vote against her. Without corresponding achievements, why should she be promoted? The Wizengamot has not been disbanded, Dumbledore is still alive, and the Ministry of Magic is the Ministry of Magic for British wizards, not the Ministry of Magic for Fudge and Umbridge alone."

The atmosphere at the round table became solemn because of a few harsh words, and at this moment, a noise broke out around the mirror on the wall.

It turned out that during the game, when the ball was exchanged, the mirror suddenly switched the picture and a video that had nothing to do with the game flashed.

"It is certain that dark wizards are lurking in Hogwarts."

Harry's face filled the entire mirror, his slightly childish voice was exceptionally clear, the view zoomed out to reveal the auditorium behind, and his green eyes seemed to be looking through the mirror at the audience outside.

All the customers in the tavern were attracted by this sentence, their eyes fixed on the mirror, waiting for the follow-up explanation of this sentence, but the image did not give any answer.

After a burst of intense drumbeats, the scene changed. Dumbledore stood in the center of the guest of honor table and introduced: "We have two changes in faculty this year. First, let us welcome Professor Lewynter, who will teach Muggle Studies... and Professor Quirrell has volunteered to take the vacant Defense Against the Dark Arts class."

There was another burst of meaningless, dense drumbeats, and the scene cut to the faces of the two professors:

Professor Lewinter is young and handsome, with a gentle smile, but he has a Slytherin temperament and doesn't look like a good person;

The other Professor Quirrell had an awkward smile on his face. He had a strange purple turban wrapped around his head, and one hand was tightly grasping the hanging turban, which also looked a bit strange.

"I must tell everyone, if you don't want to suffer an unexpected and painful death, don't go into the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor."

Dumbledore's resonant voice echoed in the hall, accompanied by the clear creaking of a door closing. The screen went black, and the hearts of all the wizards in the tavern suddenly became tense, and all kinds of speculations arose in their hearts.

Why can’t they go to the fourth floor? There was no such rule when they were in school?

Which of the two professors just now had a problem?
Why are dark wizards lurking in schools?
More and more doubts arose, but none of them were answered. The drinkers stared at the mirror with wide eyes, not blinking, but the image was still dark and the sound was vague. Only by listening carefully could they hear two voices arguing in the darkness, with intense tones and ambiguous content.

After a brief pause, an exciting and tense melody sounded, accompanied by the singing of Celestina Warbeck's new album, and Harry's voice appeared again:
"What's hidden in the room in the corridor? Someone is trying to murder me. We must get to the bottom of this."

The video flashed through several scenes. Harry was dangling in the air on the court, his broom obviously cursed and in critical condition. A three-headed dog pounced with its bloody mouth agape. A troll swung its club at the students. Young wizards ran in the corridor at night, screaming. Deep in the Forbidden Forest, Lewynter, Professor McGonagall, and a mysterious wizard each cast a spell.

"Oh no, the dark wizard has taken action!"

The door to a room in the fourth-floor corridor was ajar, with a trapdoor embedded in the floor. "The professors aren't here; only we can stop him!"

Finally, Harry resolutely entered the flaming door, and a few lines of small words appeared in the lower right corner:
"Freshman Stays at School" will be released during the Easter holiday, so stay tuned"

"hiss……"

The wizards took a deep breath of alcohol and digested the information they had just received. It was extremely difficult to analyze it with their dizzy brains, and no one spoke for a while.

The lifestyle of the wizarding world is still stuck in the 19th century. Usually, they can only find excitement by reading adventure stories in newspapers and books. In the past few months, Quidditch videos and alcohol have become new fun. Where have they ever seen such a scene?

Faced with the sudden appearance of the trailer, my appetite was piqued by the information revealed in the image. I was filled with doubt, curiosity, nervousness, excitement, and a hint of worry...

Who is the Dark Wizard? What's hiding in the corridor on the fourth floor? What's with the three-headed dog and the troll? Why did Potter walk into the flames?

Those doubts lingered in my mind and wouldn't go away. If strong liquor burned the stomach, now I was getting excited and a little anxious. Not being able to get an answer felt like something dirty was crawling on my body, making me feel anxious and restless. Even the game didn't seem so exciting.

Some of the drunken guests frowned and muttered, "Based on the information in those two sentences, it seems that the answer will only be available on Easter..."

A half-drunk wizard immediately responded, and the tavern was suddenly filled with cursing sounds:
"How is this okay!?"

"Where's old Will? Come out and explain!"

"Yeah! Stop playing hide and seek in there!"

Scrimgeour's face was grave, his hand gripping his wine glass as he too pondered the information, combining his own investigative experience with Dumbledore's words for analysis. He considered it a parody of a Muggle play, while also suspecting it was a conspiracy by the old headmaster...

My brain was buzzing so fast it was almost smoking.

Several other Ministry employees were also pondering, though not as much as Scrimgeour.

The tavern was nearly overturned by the discussion before old Will limped out with a smug smile on his face and his chin raised. "What's there to explain? What's there to explain to you?"

"What was that image just now?" someone shouted.

"I can't explain it to you clearly. You know the movie? It's a more realistic drama, based on a true story."

The half-drunk wizard in front shouted, "What's going on in the corridor on the fourth floor? What's going on with the troll and the three-headed dog? Is there really a dark wizard sneaking into the school? Is it that new professor? He looks like a bad guy from Slytherin."

One sentence ignited the scene, and the scene suddenly became boiling.

"What do you mean? You look down on us Slytherins!?"

"What's the problem? Azkaban is mostly filled with Slytherins. How many good ones do you Slytherins have?"

"Wow..."

This was the tavern with the strongest liquor in the British Isles, and scenes of drunken quarrels were not uncommon at all. The wizards around had no intention of stopping them, but instead formed a circle to make room for them and encouraged them to fight.

Seeing that she could not get any useful information, Ms. Bones gave Thicknesse a look, and Thicknesse stood up, squeezed into the crowd, and pulled old Will over.

"Of course the Dark Wizard isn't Professor Levent." Old Will sipped his whiskey and explained to his colleagues, "The Shadow Mirror can't always be used to show Quidditch matches. Even the most exciting matches will get boring after watching them too much. This is a new type of program, and it's available for a fee."

"What are the fees?" asked Ms. Bones.

"The ticket is very cheap, only five silver Sickles, less than the price of a bottle of whiskey."

"Then how do you divide the profits?" Crouch was quite sensitive about this aspect.

"Hey, Professor Lewynter gets two Sickles, the school gets one Sickle, and the rest is the tavern's profit."

“Is it like this in other bars?”

……

"Of course we are different from those pubs. We are a pub with class!"

In the beautifully decorated box, Jack, with a silver cloth wrapped around his left eye, was holding a goblet and explaining the ticket prices. Lucius Malfoy, dressed in expensive clothes, was leaning on the sofa and talking to the magazine editor next to him. He kept his voice low so as not to disturb the tavern owner.

The White Ink Bar in Upper Flagley, Wilshire, used to be a magazine publishing house. Later, the magazines could not be sold and the business went bankrupt. Alfie relied on his accumulated connections to help turn it into an upscale bar, mainly catering to cultural people of status and position.

Most of the people present today are editors of magazines and newspapers. Considering that the Malfoy family holds shares in many publishing houses, Lucius is also considered a wizard in the industry, so he was invited to attend the party.

The Malfoy family has a bad reputation. If it hadn't sponsored major publishing houses over the years, it would have been condemned by everyone long ago.

In fact, sponsoring newspapers and magazines is not a loss-making business. It is not only the Malfoy family that needs to keep a low profile. There are other Death Eater families who also need to hide their identities. The Galleons given here can be bought back from old Nott, old Goyle and old Crabbe by raising the bid, and a profit can be made in the process.

This is not blackmail or deception. Old Gore and Old Crabbe have no way to sponsor them, and they often thank him.

Jack spoke at an even pace, explaining in detail, "I've specially prepared a viewing room. Different seats have different prices. The better the seats, the more expensive they are. Even the cheapest seats in the corners cost a Galleon."

The people present were not interested in the ticket price but in the content of the film.

But when asked about the details, Jack just smiled and shook his head, as if he wanted to keep it a secret.

……

Similar scenes took place in pubs across the country. Drinkers talked to each other about the information in the trailer, went home to tell their relatives and friends, and spread it by word of mouth. In just one night, the content of the trailer spread throughout England.

All wizards know about a film that will be released at Easter.

(End of this chapter)