Chapter 130: I’m Leaving It To You!
Muggle Studies Office.
The bookshelf is placed against the wall, separated by walnut wood planks into rows of neatly arranged squares. A year ago, these squares were all empty, but now more than half are filled, mostly with books and materials—wizard books given by colleagues and friends, Muggle books procured personally, and various collected documents and archives.
In the middle are some small objects: curse props whose magic power has dissipated, deer antlers given by Hagrid—all turned into decorations on the shelf—and green plants given by Professor Sprout, adding a touch of fresh vitality to the office.
The most eye-catching is the small projection mirror placed in the center, fixed with a wooden frame. Its shell resembles glass, with silvery white mist flowing inside, crystalline and gorgeous.
Every time coming to this office, one can’t help but look around repeatedly.
Harry sits on the sofa, his eyes darting around.
Beside him, Hermione is twisting the hem of her robe with her fingers, lips pressed tight, waiting anxiously for the professor to review the theses.
The little witch quietly raises her head and sees the professor frowning slightly and letting out a soft “hmm.” Her heart immediately leaps into her throat, her eyes flashing with slight panic as she thinks, could there be something wrong with the thesis?
At that moment, her sleeve is suddenly tugged. Harry lowers his voice to a whisper only they can hear: “Hermione, did you see? There’s a new glass jar on that shelf over there.”
Hermione looks in the direction he’s pointing.
On the square of the bookshelf near the window sits a cylindrical glass bottle—the kind they used in winter to hold firebell flowers’ flames.
A beetle rests quietly at the bottom of the bottle, its antennae swaying slowly with a faint arc, hiding behind a few twigs and leaves, like a dazed ladybug in the courtyard shrubbery, looking somewhat leisurely.
The two students’ expressions are a bit odd. Even lower years students catch beetles to keep as pets for fun or to feed toads, but they didn’t expect Professor Levent to have this hobby too.
Their gazes flicker as they exchange looks, then they hear the professor clear his throat lightly twice. They immediately sit up straight, pretending to look straight ahead without glancing sideways.
“Tell me about your theses.”
Melvin finds it somewhat amusing and puts the two theses back on the table: “The lengths differ greatly. One cites too many cases, with some descriptions feeling redundant; the other is overly concise, not even clearly describing the traits of Cornish Pixies… As for the arguments, the two theses choose completely different combat styles, but some wording is very similar. What do you think about this?”
Hermione clutches the hem of her robe tightly.
Harry silently lowers his head, his neck flushing red with shame. He regrets referencing it now.
“The theses still have many shortcomings…” Melvin pauses deliberately, watching their faces gradually turn red, then changes his tone: “But for second year students, this level is already quite impressive.”
Both lift their heads at the same time, their expressions turning from cloudy to sunny.
“Wizard duelling has no absolute right way. Most master duelists have their own styles. I’m sure you discovered this while writing the theses.”
Melvin points to the shorter thesis and begins explaining: “Harry favors adapting to circumstances. Compared to various special effect spells, you prefer mastering one or two spells to respond flexibly. Hermione favors stability and effectiveness, willing to master various special effect spells to deal with different dangers…”
Compared to the previous practical exercise, this thesis explanation is more like a review. Revisiting it after a week and confirming gains through other examples benefits both students greatly. Some obscure points they couldn’t grasp are clarified by Melvin with a single explanation, making everything click naturally.
“From the thesis content, you have sufficient awareness of your own style preferences, but that’s not enough. The second thesis I assigned you is to swap arguments and adopt each other’s style.”
Melvin hands Harry’s short thesis to Hermione and passes Hermione’s long thesis to Harry: “This time there’s a length requirement. Hermione’s thesis can’t be longer than Harry’s, and Harry, yours can’t be shorter than Hermione’s.”
Harry and Hermione look bewildered.
“Besides that, you need to practice and master the many special effect spells for second year. Don’t worry, I’ve prepared teaching videos for you.”
Melvin stands up, takes the small projection mirror from the bookshelf, and hands it to them: “It contains my recorded explanations and demonstrations, just like a television that needs tuning. When using it, stir the light mist with your wand, wait for the picture and moving image to appear, and practice accordingly.”
Hermione hurriedly takes the projection mirror, which is heavier than expected, like three thick tomes stacked together.
“By the way, can you contact any Ravenclaw students?” Melvin asks.
Hermione answers instinctively: “My roommate Padma has a twin sister in Ravenclaw.”
“Please help me contact third year Marietta Ekko and ask her to come to the office after dinner tomorrow. And Neville too.” Melvin pauses briefly, adding a name.
……
After leaving the office, Harry and Hermione are still thinking about the thesis lengths, their minds foggy. Clutching the projection mirror, they walk back to the common room. Hearing the noisy commotion brings them slowly back to their senses.
Dean and Seamus are playing Gobstones, their robes stained with foul-smelling liquid. Captain Wood stands by the table-top Quidditch, solemnly explaining tactics to the others.
Seeing them enter through the portrait hole, Ron pops out from some corner, eyes gleaming as he stares at the projection mirror: “Merlin’s beard, I’ve only seen this thing in the tavern. Old Tom wouldn’t even let us near it!”
“The school auditorium showed it too,” Hermione corrects rigorously.
Ron helps carry the projection mirror, stroking and examining it while asking: “Why did Professor Levent give you the projection mirror?”
“For practicing spells,” Harry explains listlessly.
“What spells? What did you tutor today?”
Hermione shakes her head, glancing at the thesis in her hand that’s just over three inches, sighing wistfully.
Harry is even more dejected; his thesis is a full 14 inches.
“Why the sighs? Were today’s spells hard?” Ron is baffled, helping move the projection mirror to the corner.
“It’s just theses, right? You can always finish them slowly.”
After hearing about tonight’s tutoring content, he eagerly sets down the projection mirror, props it up with a few soft cushions, points his wand at the mirror surface, and starts stirring: “Better to check out the projection mirror first…”
Harry and Hermione focus their attention, preparing to study the spells.
A melodious, soothing tune plays.
The picture lights up, showing a title: 《Second Year Defence Against the Dark Arts: Basic Spell Casting》
This picture is very rough—white text on blue background, bold and thick letters, with snowflake dots flickering constantly, just like a television program with poor signal.
Then a wizard in wizard robes appears, face unclear. Accompanied by mechanical, slow movements, a rough, heavy male voice begins explaining: “Step one: wand check. The wand’s condition greatly affects casting results, so wand checking is an important part of casting…”
The voice is loud and rich, with a rigid teaching tone. The slight electrical hum is a bit harsh, the wording outdated like from the last century, yet unexpectedly captivating.
Every movement seems deliberately stiff, like a stage play actor, conveying a subtle feeling.
“…”
The three exchange glances. This teaching video is detailed and specific, yet has a rough simplicity that conveys a pure and earnest feeling to the viewers.
Those who don’t know might think it was recorded by Professor Binns before his death.
The extremely blurry picture quality is like early film camera footage, degraded by multiple transfers and copies—full of snowflake noise, color distortion, blurred edges, with occasional flickers and ripples.
It forces viewers to watch the video with full concentration.
“Grip the wand tightly. First, pinch the wand’s end with your right index finger, middle finger, and thumb, then slowly rub, rotate, and channel a tiny amount of magic power…”
The first half hour covers the lasso charm they learned last week, with many trivial details, yet without feeling dull or boring.
Hermione leans on the sofa, still wanting more. Recalling the explanation for a spell she’s already mastered brings new insights.
“Teaching video—a pure teaching video…”
So detailed!
From spell intonation and stress shifts to wand checks, casting gestures, and arm swing arcs—detailed to the point of being exacting.
Her past experience self-studying spells tells Hermione this teaching is aimed at lower years students with weak foundations. Any student following the teaching video’s steps can guarantee successful casting.
Stirring the light mist again, the picture changes.
Hermione watches several times carefully, rubbing her eyes midway for a break, and finds a crowd gathered around. Classmates have come over at some point, watching intently, more serious than in normal classes.
……
Stars and moon turn in the deep blue night sky. A few strands of bright silver radiance slant through the window. Across a low table, Godric Gryffindor’s Neville, Ravenclaw’s Marietta, and Professor Levent sit facing each other.
Neville has grown much taller, still a bit chubby.
Marietta has reddish-blonde curly hair, regular features even pretty, with a few freckles fitting local tastes.
Both students are still in school uniforms: white shirts, black outer robes, differing only slightly in tie colors.
Without her familiar roommate nearby, Marietta hangs her head, feeling involuntarily nervous. She doesn’t understand why the professor suddenly called her over.
“Pumpkin juice or hot chocolate?” Melvin asks. He’s holding a teapot, from which both pumpkin juice and hot chocolate are poured.
“Pumpkin juice is fine,” Neville raises his hand to answer. He’s a bit nervous too, but not panicked; he knows Professor Levent is a good professor.
Marietta repeats softly: “Pumpkin juice.”
“Sorry, no pumpkin juice left. Choose again: hot chocolate or butterbeer?” Melvin looks at Marietta. “You first.”
“I… either is fine.”
“Give me a clear answer.” Melvin’s voice is calm, but his gaze is especially pressuring, making Marietta afraid to meet his eyes.
Marietta trembles: “Hot chocolate, then.”
“Are you sure?” Melvin’s tone grows sterner.
“Then… butterbeer?” Marietta shrinks back.
“You’re… even weaker than I thought.” Melvin pours her a cup of pumpkin juice and says to himself, “Don’t worry. I called you here at your mother’s request, to tutor your studies. A couple days ago, Professor Lockhart and I attended a banquet and happened to meet Mrs. Ekko. We discussed your education and reached some cooperation.”
“Tutoring studies?” Marietta breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Professor. I’ll study hard.”
“The original plan was tutoring, but you’re too weak and didn’t pass my test.” Melvin sips pumpkin juice, tone cold. “Your grades are average, talent mediocre. Even with tutoring, you can’t catch up to the top students. I don’t want to waste time on you.”
Hearing the professor’s blunt, almost cruel evaluation, Marietta’s shoulders start shaking. She lowers her head to hide her reddening eyes, lips moving silently without a sound.
Neville blinks, glances at Marietta, then at the professor, hesitating to speak, expression conflicted.
“But considering my cooperation with Mrs. Ekko, I can give you another chance.” Melvin hands over two professor’s notes, one for each.
Faced with the odd contract-like document, Marietta is at a loss. The content is an appointment explanation with detailed terms she doesn’t fully understand, but she signs along with Neville.
Now she’s sitting in the Muggle Studies office, with the professor her mother designated for her. She has no reason to refuse.
Melvin collects the two documents: “You may have heard of the Magic Mirror Club. We dedicate ourselves to exploring new forms and content in the magical arts and promoting them worldwide. Drama and moving pictures are interconnected, so I plan to restart the Drama Club at school.
“Due to some unexpected incidents, the original Drama Club was suspended for decades. I need to rehearse an excellent play to convince the headmaster and all teachers and students. Your task is to write the script for me, scout and recruit actors, organize rehearsals and performances. Understand?”
Marietta nods instinctively. She doesn’t really understand; she’s nodding just to respond to the professor’s question.
“Good. Marietta Ekko, from now on, you’re the person in charge.” Melvin decides firmly, then turns to the other little wizard. “Neville, you’ll assist from the side.”
The professor’s voice echoes in Marietta’s mind. She really can’t figure out why he’d put her in charge of something so important.
“Ah?!”
Neville’s mouth gapes open as if struck by a spell. If Trevor jumped into his mouth right now, he wouldn’t spit it out.
“No accidents allowed, no failures. Report progress to me every Wednesday. Understand?”
Both are quiet types, mumbling for a long time without managing to refuse or object, and can only nod in agreement.
Called to the office in a daze, accepting the professor’s task in a daze, leaving in a daze—their heads are all fuzzy when they walk out.
Walking along, Marietta suddenly wails, covering her face and trembling: “What… what do I do? I’ll definitely mess it up. Mum… and the professor, they’ll be disappointed.”
Neville watches her sobbing softly, scratching his head in distress.
