A Certain Hogwarts Magician Professor

It was an embarrassing moment.

In hindsight, Harry wished he had knocked more slowly, even for a second. So they could sneak away, or hide in the pumpkin patch and wait for Professor Slughorn to leave. But the truth was that before he could figure out the pros and cons, his hand slammed hard on Hagrid's wooden door.

There was a sudden silence in the house.

Then they heard Hagrid shout rudely, "Who's outside?" Harry looked behind him, Ron turned his head unnaturally, staring blankly at the bunch of dried mushrooms hanging on the wall of the wooden house, Hermione averted his eyes, Feet rubbed against the ground.

There was no other way, and Harry finally had to bite the bullet and say, "It's me, Hagrid. And Ron and Hermione, we'll see you."

There was the sound of a cup shattering from the room, accompanied by an exclamation of "Oh, my God!" It let Harry know that Professor Slughorn was just as surprised as he was, and Hagrid was silent, still seeming to be angry, or maybe simply didn't think of a way to deal with it.

"Hagrid, we've got to talk," Harry said outside his throat.

Hagrid still opened the door, though he was still angry and had no good face. Ron astutely mentioned the funeral - Harry wasn't sure if that was true, because Hagrid burst into tears, both for poor Aragog (Hagrid's eight-eyed spider) and because Harry III No one chooses his improvement class.

"Little unconscionable... please eat so many rock crust cakes... oh, Aragog..."

Hermione tried her best to comfort Hagrid, who was sobbing with tears. Harry and Ron couldn't pour the time. They tried to help Hagrid up, but they were overwhelmed by the two thick arms wider than the waist. Harry's glasses were slanted to one side. En kept rolling his eyes.

"Professor, do something quickly," Hermione said sternly to Slughorn, who seemed to be in some kind of awkward situation from the beginning, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief several times, and afterwards Harry thought that when Hagrid scolded them, the words were so eloquent that he couldn't have come up with them on his own.

It is not difficult to speculate how many 'pretty words' Professor Slughorn provided before they came.

Slughorn stood up bewildered, took out his wand and gestured at random, "Oh, oh, right... Wingardim Leviosa!" He pointed his wand at Hagrid, Harry and Ron Once the pressure was released, they pushed Hagrid, who was somewhat dizzy, back on the bed, slumped on the ground and gasped, rubbing his aching ribs.

Hagrid blew his nose, opened his wet eyes, and stared at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"I know...you may not have time..." Hagrid murmured twice, blushing a little, "I'll go get the rock crust." Harry and Ron, who had just sat down, immediately jumped up and tried their best to face Slughorn. The professor winked, and Slughorn fiddled with his handkerchief, cleared his throat, and said, "Hagrid, we'd better go and see Aragog."

"You're right." Hagrid froze, then stood up.

They came to the pumpkin patch at the back of the hut, whimpering, and Harry saw in the distance a guy the size of a carriage, his black bristles turned soft gray, and his eight thick, sharp-edged legs twisted strangely. Two terrifying claws pointed at the sky, it was the eight-eyed giant spider Aragog. Harry had forgotten that Professor Hepp had performed magic on this eight-eyed giant spider king before, and he was a little worried when he suddenly saw its appearance.

Hagrid staggered forward, knelt on the ground, and crushed a pumpkin. Ron struggled to hold back his laughter and shivered. Harry understood what Ron was thinking, his best friend didn't like spiders at all. So Harry stood up on his own, cleared his throat, and thought of saying a few random eulogies or something, and the big claws twitched so suddenly that Harry almost jumped.

"It's not dead?" Harry couldn't help crying.

"Of course not," Hagrid said hoarsely, glaring at Harry and muttering, "But it's too soon, just these few days... it won't eat." He couldn't help but feel sad again. Tears, "Thanks a lot to Professor Slughorn, he, he said he had seen similar funerals, would, would like to help... Can you guys come?" He looked at Harry, Ron and Hermione , asked very consciously.

"Of course," Harry swore.

"Great……"

Returning to the castle from Hagrid's hut, Slughorn walked ahead with a big belly, turning his head several times as if he wanted to say something. Slughorn finally turned his head as they stood in the hallway about to part.

"Cough, boys," he said hesitantly, fiddling with the last button of his vest, "I think I owe you an explanation . Since you're not here..."

"Forget it," said Harry. "We should have gone to see Hagrid long ago, and it's true that I haven't written to you."

Slughorn looked a little embarrassed and waved.

"That's all just a joke... But it's good to clear up the misunderstanding, right?" He became pleasant and said with ease: "I plan to hold a small party recently, and only invite some potential students, including Malfoy, The Greengrass sisters, McLaggen, Shabini, Burns, Longbottom, and the charming Melinda Poppin - don't know if you know her, who owns a large chain of drugstores - and Yes, of course, and I very much hope that the three of you will appreciate it as well."

"Uh, I'm not sure if I have time..." Harry racked his brains thinking of excuses, maybe it would be a good choice to schedule team training for that day, he didn't want to eat another sweet tooth and listen to the mess all night. Celebrity Stories.

"Don't try to shirk," Slughorn pretended to be stern, "I'll just point at you. If I let the three youngest Merlin Medalists go, what kind of ridicule should I be?" Then he pointed Playing with the tip of the walrus beard, he said with a smile: "Don't worry, I also invited Severus, he taught you for five years? I have read the papers he published in recent years, which are very valuable..."

Harry listened blankly, and he didn't even want to go.

"...and Felix, the sly little fellow, who wanted to say no, just like you guys, but I told him that on his time, he couldn't say no now..." Slughorn said. He patted Harry on the shoulder and said earnestly: "I understand, talented people are more proud. But, how do you say it?" He played with his two thumbs, "It's always right to make more good friends. , maybe one day it will help you... it's settled."

He disappeared down the stairs in the hallway, humming a little tune.

"What?" Harry asked softly after staring at the shiny bald head that disappeared.

Hermione didn't say anything, she thought for a moment, "He also invited Susan and Neville?"

"An aunt with a Minister of Magic, and the son of a war hero," said Ron, clasping his fingers. "It's not hard to understand, is it?" He saw Harry's tangled expression, and persuaded, "You'll be there when the time comes. Just hide from Snape, and no matter how bad it is, it can't be worse than the ghost's birthday party and the upcoming funeral of the eight-eyed spider."

They went back to the dormitory, dug out their schoolbags and did their homework.

Harry and Ron had to give in to Hermione's nagging, borrow the full range of reference books (and Hermione's papers, of course) from her, and start writing homework on ancient runes. "A full fifteen inches," Ron whispered, eyes rolling with several documents in front of him at the same time.

He suddenly thought of the "tricks" that Luna had mentioned to her in the morning, and couldn't wait to share it with Harry and Hermione. Harry was at a loss, Hermione frowned and pointed out sharply, "This method may only be suitable for her."

"Then how do you think I put this idea into the paper?" Ron asked with interest, "I feel like I can make up a lot of words."

Harry's heart skipped a beat too, he looked at Hermione, but Hermione hid herself behind the book with a stern face and didn't speak.

After a long while, she said dully: "I think Luna just wants to express the concept of 'love' and 'focus'. If you can't be like her, you can only study hard and practice hard. Practice makes perfect."

"...It's like I didn't say anything."

...

The next morning, Rita Skeeter triumphantly knocked on the door of the Minister of Magic's office, and the two women looked at each other across the desk.

"Sit down, Skeeter," said Ms. Burns, wearing a monocle, looking up from a thick stack of papers.

"Hello, Minister Burns," said Rita Skeeter, all smiles. Burns looked at her scrutiny, and after a moment looked away from the little curl that exploded on Skeeter's head. She said coldly, "Someone recommended you to me, saying that you have some energy in the Muggle newspaper industry."

"Not 'some', Minister," said Skeeter, his emerald fingernails digging into the alligator leather handbag and pulling out a work card from it, "I'm a special correspondent for The Sun, aloof, and there's mine there. An independent office, although I can't go to it once a month, but," she paused, "that office will only be reserved for me."

Ms. Burns snorted softly, "Given your past criminal record, I have reason to worry that your actions will adversely affect the Statute of Secrecy."

"Oh." Rita Skeeter froze for a moment, her long fingernails fiddling with the zipper of the crocodile bag, and she said contemptuously, "There is no evidence of—"

"It hasn't been discovered," Ms. Burns corrected.

"The most important responsibility of the Ministry of Magic is to hide everything about magic, and now there is such a person, who appears in Muggle society openly, surrounded by a group of colleagues who have a keen sense of smell and are good at catching wind and shadows - yes, I am very interested in "The Sun" The newspaper has heard about it, and you have found a field of expertise."

Skeeter opened his mouth. "Not to mention," Ms. Burns continued without giving her a chance to interject, "this person has little legal awareness and has too many previous convictions, which means that no one will pursue it. Otherwise, I believe there will be many people. Hope to see her unlucky."

Skeeter's body shrank back.

"Now, tell me, Skeeter," asked Ms. Burns flatly, staring at her face, "would such a man suddenly become law-abiding when he came to Muggle society?"

Rita Skeeter's expression stiffened, and she took a few deep, trembling breaths and said, "I thought you came to me today because—"

"What does the Ministry of Magic ask of you?" Ms. Burns asked coldly.

"No, of course not," Skeeter said with a pleasing smile. "I just heard that there is an opportunity to make extra money, if I can serve the Ministry of Magic," she gritted her teeth, "I don't want a Galleon."

"There is no shortage of your pay at the Ministry of Magic," Ms. Burns said, pushing over a nondisclosure agreement.

Rita Skeeter, with a sullen face, pulled her glasses down, and read the terms over and over with her head down. Behind her bejeweled spectacles, her eyes widened a little. She raised her head sharply, met Ms. Burns' serious, calm face, and said, "You let me stay in Muggle society for a whole year?"

"You can come back at the weekend," Ms. Burns said quietly.

The refusal that came to her mouth stopped. Skeeter bit her nails and thought about it for a long time. She gritted her teeth and said, "When the matter can be made public, I will publish this experience, and you can't use any excuse to stop me. "

"I agree." Ms. Burns nodded.

So Skeeter signed the nondisclosure agreement, her face softened, and she seemed to have pre-ordered a bestseller anyway. She got up and walked to the door, looking at Ms. Burns.

"Forgot to ask, how far do I need to be?"

Ms. Burns said with a stern face: "You don't need to use magic, your identity is the best source of information. What you should be most concerned about is how to keep your wizarding identity from being discovered for the next year."

"Don't worry about it," Skeeter's smile jumped slightly, which made her expression full of provocation. "Did Mr. Hepp also sign a nondisclosure agreement?"

"He initiated this matter, and he recommended you," Ms. Burns raised her eyebrows, "so you can understand that, on the one hand, he trusts you a lot, although I don't know where this trust comes from. Come? On the other hand...he doesn't want 'any' mistakes."

Rita Skeeter gave her an annoyed look, turned and strode away.

"You don't need to remind me."

In the office, Ms. Burns rubbed her forehead. She could understand why Fudge was desperately trying to distance himself from Dumbledore. She, a Minister of Magic, had to rely on the reputation of a professor in the school to warn Rita Skeeter. , a small-minded change will definitely lead to dissatisfaction.

But the truth is, once she's out of the UK, she's not necessarily more famous than 'Felix Hepper'.

There was a knock on the door.

Kingsley Shacklebolt pushed through the door and handed Ms. Burns a document.

"Minister, Carlotta Pinkstone is out next week," he said quietly.

Ms. Burns felt her head hurt even more. "The troublemaker?" No doubt she was a tougher woman than Rita Skeeter. She thought for a moment and said, "Send an Auror to watch her."

"Secret stalking, or—" Kingsley asked hesitantly.

"Follow her aboveboard, of course," Ms. Burns said through gritted teeth. "Let her know the attitude of the ministry, so that she won't be locked in for a few days before she comes out."