0218 Life

Hogwarts was enveloped in a peaceful atmosphere for a few weeks after the thrilling Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. The only exception was Bryan Watson, the Ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, who had been appointed as the director of the student safety office by the Ministry of Magic, and the huge and frightening Patronus he had cast on the Quidditch pitch, which resembled a monstrous Winged-Snake. The sight of the silvery beast flying over the stadium had stunned everyone, and it soon became a hot topic of gossip among the students and staff. 

The rest of the events that happened during that time were trivial matters compared to that. For instance, Neville Longbottom, the clumsy and timid Gryffindor boy, had lost his wand and couldn’t find it anywhere. He had searched his pockets, his robes, his bed, his trunk, and even his toad Trevor, but the wand was nowhere to be seen. Professor McGonagall enlisted all the boys in Gryffindor to help Neville search in the common room and dormitory, but to no avail. So, the exasperated McGonagall had to write a letter to Neville’s grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, who was a formidable old witch with a vulture-like hat and a stern expression. 

As a consequence, one morning at breakfast, Neville received another howler from his grandmother. The red envelope burst open and the voice of the furious old lady echoed throughout the Great Hall, making everyone turn their heads and stare. 

“IF YOU CAN’T FIND YOUR FATHER’S WAND, DON’T EVER DARE TO COME BACK!!!”

The howler exploded with a loud bang, sending bits of red paper flying everywhere. As the hall fell silent and Neville sobbed into his porridge, Bryan, who was sitting at the staff table, felt a pang of pity for the poor boy. 

After a moment of thought, he took out a spare wand from his pouch and handed it to Professor McGonagall, who was sitting next to him. 

“Mr. Longbottom probably won’t be able to find that wand–” Bryan said to Professor McGonagall in a low voice, “I have a spare one here. Please give it to Mr. Longbottom. He can buy a new one at Ollivander’s during the Christmas holidays–” 

“That’s the only way, Bryan.” Professor McGonagall said with a stern face, as she took the wand from Bryan and nodded her thanks. She then got up and walked towards Neville’s table, where she handed him the wand and whispered something in his ear. Neville looked up at her with a grateful expression, and then at Bryan, who gave him a reassuring smile. 

“I don’t understand this child, why he always loses things.” Professor McGonagall muttered as she returned to her seat, shaking her head. 

“If you knew how Longbottom performed in my class, Minerva.” Snape, sneered from across the table, “Then you wouldn’t be surprised by this. He is a complete dunderhead, who can’t even brew a simple potion without blowing up his cauldron.” 

“This child is excellent, Severus–” Professor Lupin, the shabby and kind Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, who looked much better after the full moon and was sitting next to Professor Flitwick, leaned over and smiled gently, “He has always done well in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. You just need to encourage him more, instead of insulting him and taking points from Gryffindor.” 

“Indeed.” Professor Sprout, who was sitting on the other side of Professor Flitwick, also chimed in, “Longbottom has a great talent for herbology. You may not believe it, but I think Mr. Longbottom’s level in herbology is enough to get an outstanding grade in the O.W.L.S exam. He can identify and handle any plant, even the most dangerous ones, with ease and skill.” 

“Find the reason yourself, Professor Snape.” Bryan glanced at the dark-faced Snape, who glared back at him, and said with a chuckle. “Maybe you’re just too harsh on him.”

“By the way, Bryan–” Professor Flitwick pointed at the wand that Bryan had just taken out, and said shrilly, with a curious tone, “As far as I know, except for the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic, few wizards carry two wands with them! What is the reason for this, if I may ask?” 

“Ah, it’s just a personal habit–” Bryan said calmly, as he put the wand back into his pouch. 

“You have to stay away from that curse!” 

At the end of breakfast, Professor Trelawney, the eccentric and dramatic Divination teacher, who had been in a trance, suddenly stood up, jingling the beads around her neck, and looked through the thick glasses with a neurotic gaze at Bryan. She pointed a bony finger at him, and said in a hoarse voice, 

“My inner eye tells me, darkness and death lurks within it!!” 

Bryan raised his eyebrows, ready to say something, but Professor McGonagall said coldly first, “You probably forgot, Sybil, you had already prophesied Bryan’s death once in his fifth year, when you said that the Grim would take him! And yet, he is still alive and well, despite your predictions!” 

Professor Trelawney seemed to disdain to argue, she walked away with her head held high, muttering something about the fickle nature of fate and the blindness of the ignorant. 

Bryan shook his head, amused by her antics. Besides Neville’s matter and Trelawney’s outburst, the young wizards were also curious about where their beloved headmaster had gone these days. In the past, Dumbledore would often disappear for a while during the term, but he would soon reappear, smiling and dining with all the staff. He rarely vanished for two or three weeks in a row, without leaving any trace or explanation. 

Some students wondered if he had gone on a secret mission, or if he had fallen ill due to eating those weird sweets & candies. Some even speculated that he had died, and that the school was hiding the truth from them. 

The match between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff at the end of November ended with Ravenclaw’s victory, which made Professor McGonagall, who had been anxious for a while, breathe a sigh of relief, because it meant that Gryffindor still had a chance to catch up with the other houses in the Quidditch Cup. 

Ravenclaw had played brilliantly, with their Seeker, Cho Chang, catching the Snitch in a spectacular dive, and their Chasers, Roger Davies, Terry Boot, and Padma Patil, scoring many goals with their clever passes and feints. Hufflepuff had put up a good fight, with their Captain, Cedric Diggory, leading the team with his skill and charisma, and their Keeper, Hannah Abbott, saving many shots with her quick reflexes. But they had been unable to match Ravenclaw’s speed and strategy, and had lost by a hundred and fifty points. 

After the match, on the way back to the castle, Professor McGonagall couldn’t help smiling. To be honest, although he had been in this school for seven years, Bryan didn’t know that Professor McGonagall was also a fanatical fan of Quidditch, and that she had once been a star player herself. 

A group of professors walked together across the grounds, heading back to the castle after the Quidditch match. The sky was clear and blue, and the air was crisp and cold. The students were chatting excitedly about the game, and the cheers and boos of the spectators still echoed in their ears. The air was crisp and cold, and the snow crunched under their feet. Professor McGonagall seemed to suddenly remember something, and turned to Bryan, who was walking beside her.

“Do you have time tomorrow, Bryan?” Professor McGonagall asked him, as they reached near the entrance hall.

“Do you want to invite me for a drink, Professor McGonagall?” Bryan asked, surprised by her invitation. 

“If it’s to celebrate Gryffindor’s not being eliminated, Minerva–” 

Professor Flitwick, who had just led his Ravenclaw team to a victory, ran up with a smile, “I think you should treat me, after all, it’s thanks to Ravenclaw’s efforts that you still have a chance at the Quidditch Cup.” 

“It’s not me who wants to treat, Filius–” Professor McGonagall held her wizard hat tightly and said unhappily, “The Minister of Magic sent a letter to Albus, hoping that he could persuade Bryan to return some of the Dementors to the Ministry of Magic, and then, Albus sent the letter back to me intact, without even opening it, so–” 

Bryan nodded knowingly. He could imagine the scene: Fudge, the bumbling and incompetent Minister of Magic, trying to convince Dumbledore, the ‘wise’ headmaster of Hogwarts, to give up some of the Dementors that Bryan had locked up. Fudge probably met with Dumbledore at some point and learned his attitude, so he didn’t dare to come to Bryan directly. And Dumbledore didn’t want to help Fudge as a lobbyist either, especially since he himself didn’t want to see those Dementors around Hogwarts. 

“What do you think, Professor McGonagall?” Bryan asked casually, “I mean, placing those Dementors around Hogwarts.” 

Professor McGonagall shook her head and said firmly, “I think it’s a terrible idea, Bryan. Those Dementors are a threat to the safety and happiness of our students and staff. They have no place in a school of magic. They are soulless creatures that feed on human emotions, and they can cause depression, despair, and even madness. I don’t care what the Ministry of Magic says, they have no right to impose their will on us.” 

There was an easy answer to this question. No professor wanted to have a bunch of monsters that could lose control at any time and suck the souls of young wizards around the school. 

Bryan knew that he had to make a decision soon, but he wanted to hear more opinions before he did. Later that night, when he went to visit Professor Snape in his dungeon office, he got a reasonable suggestion.

“The number of Dementors needs to be reduced, Bryan,” Snape, who was grading papers, heard the question and looked at Bryan, who was admiring a wall of glass specimen jars, with a blank expression. 

“So many Dementors, once they get out of control, there are few people in the school who can handle the situation in time.” 

“So–” Bryan pursed his lips and said, “You think I should agree to keep some of the Dementors, and give the rest back to the Ministry of Magic?”

 “Unless you want to make a name for yourself, Bryan, I don’t see why you have to fight with the Ministry of Magic to the end,” Snape scoffed, as he picked up a quill and dipped it in ink. He wrote something on a paper, and then threw it into a pile. 

“Since our great headmaster Dumbledore couldn’t stop the Ministry of Magic from placing Dementors around the school before, and besides, he and Fudge could have talked about this matter, but now he gave Fudge’s letter to Minerva, and let Minerva arrange for you to meet with Fudge, don’t you see, Bryan, Dumbledore wants to push you out. 

I think, in the future, this kind of thing may become more and more, Dumbledore is probably planning to let you be the liaison between Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic. Hmph, this way he doesn’t have to offend anyone.” Snape continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Bryan clenched his fists behind his back, and said with emotion, “You must have suffered a lot from Dumbledore to see ‘it’ so clearly, professor.” 

Snape didn’t point out the sarcasm in Bryan’s words, he lowered his head and looked at the paper on the table, the quill stained with ink in his hand hovered in the air, and didn’t fall for a long time, until half a moment later, he said angrily to Bryan, “Ever since you punished Draco to clean the owlery last time, Draco’s grades have dropped. You can look at this pile of rubbish, Bryan, I almost thought this was Longbottom’s homework!” 

He threw the paper at Bryan, who caught it and looked at it. It was a poorly written essay on the properties of moonstone, full of spelling and grammar mistakes, and vague and inaccurate statements. 

‘Punished Draco?’ Hearing this, Bryan walked over and glanced at the paper on the table, and also showed a disgusted expression. He remembered that he had made the losing Slytherin participants clean the owlery, 

‘But punishing Draco to sweep the owlery, Is this is the reason behind his poor grades,’ Bryan thought. After thinking for a moment, he understood the situation, probably, the group of Slytherin kids blamed the loss of the race on Draco’s head, so, they excluded him from their circle. 

“I always think that the kids in our house are a bit too cruel.” Bryan smacked his lips and said, “Do I need to comfort Draco?” 

“You know Slytherin, Bryan,” Professor Snape put the Quill into the ink bottle and said coldly, “He can only rely on his own strength to get out of the current predicament. If you intervene, his situation will only get worse.”

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep