A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts-Chapter 14: The Opening Feast

As time passed, the sky gradually darkened.

Above the Great Hall, thousands of candles burned, casting a shimmering universe of stars onto the enchanted ceiling. The tables and chairs were neatly arranged, presenting an orderly display.

All the professors had gathered, including Dumbledore himself. Hagrid was the only one absent, as he was busy welcoming the first-year wizards.

Not far away, Professor Lockhart, Professor Flitwick, and Headmaster Dumbledore stood together, and the entire Great Hall could hear Lockhart praising himself, "Indeed... this is a simple matter, my badges are definitely genuine, ha-ha-ha..."

Felix Harp and Severus Snape were each in their own corners, observing everything happening in the hall.

At this moment, Felix was quite perplexed. Just a while ago, he hadn't expended much effort at all, yet he had guided Professor Lockhart into freely sharing information about himself. Lockhart had been more than willing to talk about his adventurous experiences, as long as you played the role of a good audience on the side.

But the harvest was meager.

Was Lockhart wary of him? It didn't seem like it at all. Could he be an actor? Gathering information through exaggerated words and self-promotion?

Felix was utterly puzzled. Equally puzzling was another professor.

Severus Snape stood in another corner, a mocking smile on his face, directed at someone only he knew.

How had Professor Snape changed like this?

Back when he was a student, he wasn't so brooding and sarcastic, was he?

Had something happened during those three years?

Felix felt that his usually sharp mind wasn't enough. He became more cautious and then joined a conversation with Professor Sprout, discussing magical plants.

"Felix, I must say, you didn't put much effort into Herbology during your school days."

"Professor, I was distracted by other subjects, I was very busy."

"I don't quite think so. Back then, you went to great lengths to ask me about those dangerous plants, inquiring about their weaknesses..." Professor Sprout remembered this vividly.

Well, it was a bit of a black mark. He indeed wasn't interested in Herbology back then.

Could it provide strength?

No? Not a single bit.

So, his Herbology grades were always between A (Acceptable) and P (Poor). However, he was very skilled at dealing with dangerous magical plants and tirelessly worked to find their weaknesses, attempting to resolve them with the least effort.

This was his approach to the Care of Magical Creatures class as well.

One could only say that he had become a bit obsessed during those years.

A commotion came from a distance.

"The students are here!"

Professor McGonagall stood up and hurried away. With Headmaster Dumbledore's guidance, the other professors also took their seats. Felix especially wanted to sit next to Professor Snape, attempting to observe the undisclosed changes that had occurred in him over these years. But Snape deftly avoided him.

Helplessly, Felix aimed for his second target and took a seat beside Lockhart.

It seemed that Professor Flitwick was being quite bothered by Lockhart. Seeing Felix approaching was a relief, and without hesitation, he offered Felix a seat.

Once seated, Felix casually opened the conversation, "Professor Lockhart, your description of vampires in 'Wanderings with Vampires' was brilliant, but I do have a few minor questions..."

This time, Lockhart became visibly uncomfortable. He looked around, avoiding answering the questions directly. Felix wisely changed the topic.

Seems like he's not too fond of me...

The atmosphere turned a bit awkward, but soon Professor McGonagall led the students into the Great Hall. Second to seventh-year young wizards from each house took their seats on either side of four long tables.

However, Professor McGonagall appeared to be in a bad mood. She quickly approached Dumbledore, speaking in a hushed tone. The headmaster's face immediately turned serious. He exchanged a few words with McGonagall, she nodded, and then called for Snape. The two of them left the hall together.

What could be going on? Felix Harp felt curious, but this wasn't the appropriate occasion for magical eavesdropping.

On the other end, the newly-started school year wizards were excited, chattering away, making the whole hall exceptionally lively. The professors, quite open-mindedly, refrained from intervening. Dumbledore's expression grew even more genial, and he observed everything with a twinkle in his eye, stroking his silver beard.

Felix was also interested in scanning the crowd, spotting several familiar faces. After all, he had only graduated three years ago. In other words, any student above the fourth year had crossed paths with him.

Slytherin House.

The tall and muscular Marcus Flint was unabashedly regaling everyone with stories from his summer vacation. His voice carried so clearly that you could hear him from three seats away. Just as he was speaking excitedly, a companion beside him discreetly tugged on his arm.

Marcus Flint grew irritated. What was it? Don't interrupt my act, ugh! Don't interrupt my sharing of exciting experiences!

When his companion tugged at him more forcefully a second time, he finally turned his head, only to see the boy next to him looking utterly terrified, frantically signaling toward the professors' table.

Was something exciting happening?

Another new professor? Well, that was quite ordinary; some subjects have new professors every year, don't they?

Marcus Flint glanced toward the professors' table, scanning the area for an unfamiliar figure.

Ah, there he was, a rather handsome wizard. Was he their new Dark Arts Defense professor?

Nothing too extraordin...

Wait!

Whom did he see?!

Suddenly, Marcus Flint emitted a short, sharp scream, like he'd been bitten by a rat. His expression turned equally terrified, mirroring that of his companion.

It was him!

How could he be here?

For a moment, his already dull mind felt even slower.

Following Marcus Flint's sudden scream, other Slytherins turned their gaze toward the professors' table, then swiftly followed by a collective gasp of shock.

In an instant, more than half of the Slytherin table fell into an eerie silence.

And the remaining small group of lower-year students also noticed the upperclassmen's inexplicable silence, causing them to halt their conversations and stare at their peers in bewilderment.

Malfoy, observing this bizarre scene within his house, felt perplexed. He couldn't help but pull a nearby senior aside, whispering, "What's going on?"

"Shh, keep your voice down!" The senior reprimanded him in a hushed tone, lowering his head to avoid looking at the figure of that man, instead pretending to be deeply engrossed in examining a silver plate.

Then he whispered again, "Draco, keep it down. That man has returned."

"That man? Sir?" Draco was puzzled, it sounded like a nobleman's address.

The senior uttered a few whispered words, "The Battle of '87."

"Whew!" Draco, too, inhaled sharply, unable to resist looking up at the young professor sitting at the professors' table.

Was it him?

As the Slytherins unexpectedly fell silent, students from other houses also noticed their peculiarity.

Hermione had noticed Felix's presence earlier. With her remarkable memory, she immediately recognized him as the peculiar guest from her summer. So, he's a wizard too? No wonder he had such odd requirements!

I wonder what subject he's teaching?

The two unfamiliar faces this year—Lockhart she had already met, having read all his works herself.

His experiences were truly incredible!

The other professor, who appeared quite young, raised her curiosity. She frowned slightly, sensing that the Slytherin students had abruptly hushed down. The other three houses, initially silent, soon exploded into a cacophony of excited discussions, the Great Hall buzzing.

The older students were enthusiastically sharing what they knew, wearing expressions akin to "I have a big secret."

Hermione had initially been worried about Harry and Ron's well-being, but she had already informed Professor McGonagall. It shouldn't be a problem, right?

Hermione inconspicuously stretched her neck, straining to listen.

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