Chapter 182: Students Pulling All-nighters
Night fell, candlelight and torches illuminating the castle.
Footsteps echoed in the corridor, drawing nearer before stopping at the Muggle Studies Office doorway.
“Knock knock…”
“Come in.”
The little witch knocked on the office door, glanced up at the desk where Professor Levent was grading theses, the Horned Serpent coiled nearby watching, its head swaying with the quill, gradually dizzying itself until it stuck out its tongue and flopped on the desk.
Hermione shot Harry a look; compared to the balding, toe-missing rat, this little snake named Yurm was far cuter.
Harry shrugged, his face expressionless; anyway, he thought none of these pets could compare to Hedwig.
Waiting for the two to enter, Hermione gently closed the door, her gaze casually sweeping the room; the glass jar on the wall-side bookshelf no longer held the beetle’s form, now containing a few yellow flowers from the greenhouse, tended as Professor Sprout had instructed.
Yurm noticed the two approaching and livened up again, twisting its serpentine body closer, eyes open wide with curiosity as it examined them.
Melvin set the quill in the ink bottle, somewhat apologetic: “The term has only just begun, and I have a pile of homework to grade, so no tutoring this week—I forgot to notify you. Sorry.”
“It’s fine, Professor.”
“Perfect timing—you can go back and watch the program. I heard Professor McGonagall lifted the Floo Network restrictions for the weekend; lots of students are hooked on Projection Mirror shows, skipping dinner.” Melvin laughed.
The little witch nodded, her eyes meeting Yurm’s; finding it amusing for some reason, she reached to touch its long horn, but the young snake agilely dodged, making her purse her lips in a smile.
Harry hesitated a few seconds: “Professor, there’s something I want to ask you about.”
The quill dipped full of ink, and Melvin continued flipping through theses: “Speak plainly, no beating around the bush.”
“…”
A few minutes later.
Hermione was engrossed in playing with Yurm, lost in their own little world.
Harry recounted the whole matter with Dobby from start to finish: from suddenly appearing at Dursley’s Home during summer vacation with a baffling warning that nearly made him violate Secrecy Law rules, to sealing Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at King’s Cross Station, forcing them to fly a car to school, and finally the incident at the Quidditch match, alerting them that night in the Hospital Wing that a professor had made a transaction with Malfoy.
“…Though Dobby sometimes causes trouble, he’s a kind house-elf who yearns for freedom and deserves it.”
“Sounds like Dobby was just the trigger; most of the trouble came from you breaking rules.”
Melvin’s tone carried a teasing edge, without a hint of guilt, as if the professor who made the transaction with Malfoy wasn’t him.
Harry hung his head, a bit embarrassed: “I just wanted to ask if there’s any way to help Dobby.”
“House-elves are extremely loyal servants; even pure-blood families with ample wealth treat them as precious assets. Few wizards are willing to sell or trade them. What do you plan to do?” Melvin asked without looking up.
“Dobby once said that if his master gave a house-elf clothes, it granted freedom…” Harry explained their scheme. “So I wanted to ask if there’s any way to trick Mr. Malfoy into coming to Hogwarts? Close contact might give a chance for him to give Dobby clothes, like a sock or a tie button or something.”
After saying this, Harry and Hermione both quietly looked up, observing the professor’s expression.
Unfortunately, Melvin never looked up, focused on grading theses, his face expressionless: “Have Ron pick a fight with Draco, the kind that lands him in the Hospital Wing. Both parents are wizards; when Professor McGonagall calls the parents, she might summon Mr. Malfoy to school.”
“…”
Harry’s face froze.
“Or go hard in the next Duelling class, send Draco straight to St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries; his parents will surely visit to care for him. You apologize in the ward and get close to the Malfoys.”
“…”
Harry and Hermione couldn’t tell if the professor was serious or just teasing them.
“Figure it out yourselves. No matter what, I’m a school professor—conspiring with you to trick another student’s parent? What would that look like?”
“Okay, Professor.”
Chastened by the professor, Harry and Hermione hastily bid farewell to him and Yurm, slinking shamefacedly out of the office.
Melvin sat behind the desk, steadily grading theses, the quill splashing ink across the parchment, circling errors one by one; occasionally noting praise beside standout sections. After finishing a year’s theses, he straightened the stack and set it aside, sipped from his teacup, and pondered quietly.
Those two little ones, trying to probe me.
The excuse sounded plausible enough, but their acting was too immature.
No need to say it—it was that little witch Hermione’s idea. Bringing up Dobby for help was a pretext; the real aim was to test him, especially when mentioning Dobby’s warning about a professor’s transaction with Malfoy—the two stared straight at him. Even the densest person couldn’t ignore it.
“House-elf…”
Melvin tapped the desk lightly, a thoughtful look in his eyes.
…
Gryffindor Common Room, the stone door of the Portrait Hole opened.
Harry and Hermione greeted the Fat Lady, climbed through the Portrait Hole, and saw classmates still clustered in layers around the Projection Mirror; Ron was squeezed at the innermost spot, so they didn’t call him, finding a corner to discuss the evening’s events.
Sounds from the Projection Mirror occasionally drifted over.
Animal World had ended; now playing was a Scottish team’s training match where players swapped positions—the Keeper became Seeker, Beaters and Chasers exchanged—skilled players all, yet fumbling due to old habits and instincts, amusing audiences inside and out the Projection Mirror.
Harry, raised in the Muggle World, found nothing novel in the Projection Mirror but was interested in Quidditch; this unconventional match intrigued him, though he willed himself to stay in the corner.
Hermione wasn’t impatient, waiting for him to snap out of it: “Do you think it’s Professor Levent?”
“I was sure it was him before, but after testing, now I’m not.” Harry pondered. “The professor doesn’t seem to have much connection with Mr. Malfoy.”
“What about Dobby?”
“How about… we actually try the professor’s suggestion?” Harry blinked. “Malfoy agreed to it anyway; paying a little price is normal.”
“You talk to him about it sometime.”
Hermione rolled her eyes at him, knowing no good ideas would come soon; tired of bandying words, she headed to the dormitory to read.
“The professor did suggest it…”
Harry saw the smartest Hermione leave and felt he’d think of nothing alone here; no longer dwelling, he headed straight for the Projection Mirror, using a Seeker’s agility to squeeze to the front.
The fun match on the Projection Mirror was at its most exciting, scores close, both sides striving to score.
“You’re back.”
Ron sat in the front row, a cushion stuffed under him, holding a plate of finger biscuits—honey butter flavored, sweetly aromatic, seemingly fresh from the oven, crunching crisply in the mouth.
Watching the match and eating snacks—double the joy.
His rat Scabbers lay in his pocket; Ron always grabbed two biscuits at once—one for his mouth, one for the pet’s—both boy and rat’s eyes gleaming with pleasure, perfectly harmonious.
“Yeah, Professor said no tutoring tonight.”
Harry saw the match at a thrilling point, reached for two biscuits, then froze seeing Scabbers eating too.
He and Ron were good friends, but that didn’t mean he was friends with Scabbers; sharing a plate of biscuits with a rat was still off-putting.
“Have mine…”
Ginny beside him spoke up at the key moment, head down as she offered a biscuit, her voice soft and gentle.
“Thanks so much, Ginny!”
“N-no… it’s nothing, Harry.”
Ginny buried her head lower, casually asking: “I saw you and Hermione just back… where did you go?”
“Nothing much, had something to see Professor Levent about.”
Harry answered offhand; just then Lamont as Keeper dropped the ball, prompting shouts from the crowd.
Some screamed, some cheered; the Common Room erupted in commotion, drowning the maiden’s concerns—unnoticed by anyone but herself.
…
“It’s eleven…”
“Lights out and bed…”
Prefect Percy stood blocking the Projection Mirror, reluctant himself but mindful of his duties, calling everyone to the dormitories.
The Common Room filled with groans.
“No, Prefect!”
“Match isn’t over!”
“Three more minutes—no, five!”
“…”
Percy frowned tightly; if only George and Fred were egging it on, he’d refuse ruthlessly, but the pleas included many peers, even seventh-years, making him waver slightly.
“But the professors said…”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday, no classes; staying up a bit won’t hurt, right?” Dean and Seamus shouted together.
Seeing Percy hesitate, Lee Jordan, egged on by the twins, stood seriously: “Percy, this match has real instructional value—their strategies could inspire our team. Let us finish it; I guarantee we keep the trophy in Gryffindor this year!”
Harry’s mouth fell open; how had he missed any instructional value?
Percy paused briefly, turning to Captain Wood for confirmation.
Oliver Wood looked torn, teammates flashing encouraging looks—Angelina, the twins, Spinnet, and Belle, all team elites—leaving the captain to nod silently.
With a legitimate reason, Percy couldn’t oppose everyone: “Fine, settled—disperse after this match!”
“Yay!”
…
Midnight.
Percy stood again blocking the Projection Mirror, expression stern: “Match over, everyone to dormitories.”
“Wait, Percy!”
A seventh-year in front called out.
“What now?”
“Animal World’s on now—Nifflers are key for the ultimate wizard exam. Let us finish this episode!”
“This…”
Percy eyed the near-graduate examinee, thinking of his own exam next year, hesitating before slowly nodding: “Alright, one episode then bed.”
…
3 a.m.
Percy took a deep breath, standing sternly before the Projection Mirror:
“The Nifflers’ migration is done. No matter your excuses this time, I’m shutting off the Projection Mirror!”
The little wizards exchanged glances, eyes flickering.
Was it really ending this time?
In the small circle to the right, George and Fred shared a look and cleared their throats:
“Percy’s right; we should go to bed no matter what.”
“Projection Mirror’s great, but we need moderation—let’s call it tonight.”
Percy eyed his brothers suspiciously; they usually opposed him—had they turned over a new leaf?
Sure enough, George pivoted: “But that Niffler footage was too intense—my heart’s still pounding. I’d never sleep back in the dormitory.”
Percy squinted his tired eyes; Nifflers were among the world’s most dangerous creatures—huge, stealthy, breath toxic enough for a village; the Projection Mirror’s capture footage by hundreds of wizards was indeed thrilling.
His own heart pounded, mind racing, no sleepiness at all.
Fred seized the chance: “Celestina Warbeck’s new song’s next—calming and soothing. Let us hear it to settle down before bed.”
“Fine… five minutes only.”
Percy reluctantly agreed, resolving firmly: whatever came next, whatever excuses, he’d shut off the Projection Mirror and do his prefect duty.
“When I was young, I’d listen to the wireless, waiting for my favorite song…”
A light, soothing melody flowed; Percy listened, his restless heart calming. The beautiful voice seemed to lull him to close his eyes and listen closely; his tired eyelids fluttered, finally closing slowly.
George and Fred had sidled up unnoticed, signaling other classmates; they awkwardly lifted him to the back sofa, tucked him under a quilt, and fashioned earplugs from cotton candy to block his ears.
Candlelight and torches extinguished, only the Projection Mirror’s glow lit the lounge.
Little wizards clustered before it, eyes bright and eager.
…
The same scene unfolded in the other three houses.
Slytherin students, from well-off families never short on food or fun, wanted to binge the entertaining Projection Mirror; effortless to watch, it only energized them—no one wanted to stop.
Ravenclaws were more rational, assessing: no classes tomorrow, Projection Mirror weekend-only, exam-relevant content… after weighing it, they decided to stay up!
Hufflepuffs differed—no agonizing, just cheerfully guarding the Projection Mirror; some even dashed to the kitchen for snacks and desserts, munching while watching.
Muggle-family students were fine, used to television, less obsessed.
Pure-blood children were opening a whole new world—couldn’t get enough.
