Chapter 33: Professors’ Group Activity
Sunday morning.
The forest was shrouded in mist, with the rising sun orange in the east.
Melvin held a bread slice and pushed open the window, chewing while surveying the courtyard below.
Hogwarts was located in the Scottish Highlands, with an environment and climate completely different from Ilvermorny. At this time of year in the past, the temperature at the top of Mount Greylock had already approached below zero, and students had long since put on thick winter clothes. Here, the residual heat of summer still lingered, right in the mild season that was neither cold nor hot.
Mr. Filch, up early, hurried across the courtyard.
Mrs. Norris on the corridor steps lazily moved into the morning light. Whether in the wizarding world or the Muggle World, cats were always afraid of the cold and loved to bask in the sun.
The Horned Serpent was the same.
Before going to sleep last night, Melvin had reviewed his memory tour and was somewhat influenced by it. He dreamed of his time at Ilvermorny, dreaming of the Horned Serpent and Headmaster Fontana. Later, Dumbledore appeared too. The two headmasters gathered to play chess and share desserts and snacks. The dream was so absurd that even after waking, he still felt a sense of unreality.
“Rustle…”
The Hanged Man’s Noose poked its rope end out from the corner and climbed up around his leg.
Melvin looked down, waved the bread slice in his hand, and the rope immediately retracted, neatly coiled and folded.
He waved again at the other cursed objects in the room, and magic power swept out.
Five or six cursed objects trembled, then lined up and hopped into the suitcase. The last one was the Hanged Man’s Noose, with its final rope end retracting into the tip and slapping the lid shut.
The curses on these items were weak in magic power. Normally, they were no different from ordinary furniture and could be manipulated with a simple Levitation Charm. Packing them up was fairly convenient.
After breakfast, he casually cleared the cutlery and neatly placed it on the platter. Melvin thought there was no need to trouble the house-elves to clean up again, just like how he had treated the Pukwudgie kindly at Ilvermorny.
But the house-elf collecting the cutlery clearly did not want to accept this kindness. When leaving, its expression was sorrowful, on the verge of tears, as if betrayed by him.
These house-elves were a bit odd.
Melvin straightened his attire, picked up the suitcase, and went out.
……
The end of the fourth-floor restricted area corridor.
Outside the room where the three-headed dog Fluffy was.
Dumbledore and several professors were already waiting here.
When the professors set up their corresponding checkpoints, Dumbledore would always accompany them, both to ensure the safety of the Philosopher’s Stone and to ensure the professors’ safety, because only the headmaster and Hagrid could make Fluffy obey obediently.
It was not a mandatory requirement, and no magical contract had been signed.
If someone was truly curious and insisted on sneaking in alone to visit, they could try. Fluffy would only block them as a matter of duty and would not report it afterward, since it could not speak human language, and no one at the school was fluent in dog language.
Quirinus Quirrell was very curious, but unfortunately had never found an opportunity. A vicious dog was already hard to deal with, and a bat was always following behind him.
To avoid suspicion, from the start of term until now, he could only diligently teach classes. Occasionally, during the breaks when Snape was teaching Potions class, he would come over to take a look, but could only look. Two weeks had passed, and the plan to steal the Philosopher’s Stone had made no progress.
Today was the final wrap-up day. The original plan was to steal the Philosopher’s Stone while the rooms were not yet fully set up and the defenses were weak, but now he could only abandon it and change the short-term plan to a long-term one.
Actually, Quirrell did not originally need to participate. He had just placed a mountain troll in the room, with no wrap-up work, but to gather intelligence, he came anyway under the pretext of checking the troll’s condition.
For Quirrell, the bad news was not just one piece. He had previously thought only a few main subject professors were involved in the setup, but Dumbledore had suddenly notified of an additional professor: the new arrival, Lavent.
He touched the headscarf on his head and sensed the Dark Lord’s urgency, a sense of tension rising in his heart.
Melvin arrived in a hurry with the suitcase, first greeted the professors, and said to the white-bearded headmaster, “Sorry to keep you waiting. I got absorbed in research last night and slept late. I hurried this morning and originally wouldn’t be late, but I didn’t expect to get entangled with the house-elf over cleaning the cutlery for more than ten minutes.”
“Sometimes their enthusiasm is hard to resist,” Dumbledore replied with a smile.
“Sounds like you’ve experienced it too.”
“After finishing work, I can tell you about my early teaching days…” Dumbledore twisted the handle, and Fluffy’s enthusiastic barking immediately came from inside. He turned to the professors, somewhat helplessly, “Wait a moment, I’ll go in first to soothe this naughty big dog.”
Professor McGonagall nodded.
Melvin moved to the side with the suitcase, came beside Professor Flitwick, half-squatted down, and asked in a low voice, “Professor, when did you arrive?”
“…” Professor Flitwick looked straight at this new colleague and found it amusing. Sometimes Melvin’s demeanor made people overlook the professor’s age, but this vibrant life force would reveal itself in his speech and behavior.
Fresh and infectious.
He could not help laughing: “Don’t worry, Melvin, only three minutes before you.”
“Sorry again…”
Melvin felt a bit better inside. Hearing the low rumbling sounds from inside and seeing the professors outside all composed, he could not resist his curiosity:
“Professor, don’t you think the setups in these rooms are a bit simple? Can they really stop a vicious dark wizard?”
Quirrell’s eyes darted upon hearing this. He first glanced at Snape beside him, then feigned indifference while secretly listening.
“Hehe…”
Professor Flitwick chuckled twice: “I don’t think these setups are simple at all. At least my spell is ingenious, and Dumbledore doing this must have his reasons. We just need to trust him.”
Professor Sprout nodded: “Filius is right.”
Professor McGonagall said nothing.
Only Snape coldly glanced at Quirrell.
Taking in their reactions, Melvin showed a thoughtful expression. With the deans behaving this way, even if he did not know the inside story, he could at least vaguely guess something.
Melvin did not ask further.
The barking in the room became calm, then completely quiet. Dumbledore opened the door and called them in.
Four deans, one main subject professor, one elective professor, plus the headmaster, a total of seven people. Melvin walked with Professor Flitwick, bringing up the rear.
After entering the room, Melvin saw Fluffy lying in the corner, its three heads stacked together, sleeping sweetly with saliva dripping along its teeth onto the floor.
The group then entered the trapdoor.
First was Professor Sprout’s Devil’s Snare. The planted seedlings had already developed to maturity, with thick vines that whipped with snapping sounds, almost catching up to the Whomping Willow beside the greenhouse.
Seeing this, the Herbology professor scattered some special fertilizer to ripen it further. The Devil’s Snare’s whipping branches immediately slowed, like a ferocious beast being soothed, even acting coquettish toward the keeper.
