A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

After dinner, the parents had discussions with their respective children.

"They want us to keep our heads down, you know, stay at the school—deal with the mundane textbooks," Ron described Mr. Weasley's mindset. "As if in the blink of an eye, the war's over, and it's best if we haven't even noticed."

Back in the third-floor bedroom, they exchanged information.

Harry felt frustrated. "Why don't they understand? I won't sneak out of school, of course, but necessary preparations need to be made, right? For when Voldemort comes for me again."

Touching the scar on his forehead, despite his reluctance, he felt an inexplicable connection with Voldemort—not just physically but emotionally… their mutual hatred, wishing for each other's disappearance.

"He's coming for us—I don't think he'll let me and Ron go," Hermione spoke from the other bed. "That's the problem. Clearly, the adults want to keep us away from the war, away from Voldemort."

"It's always him coming for me!" Harry burst out in anger.

Bang! Bang! Two jarring noises echoed in the old room, Ron's two older brothers—Fred and George—suddenly appeared, tumbling onto Harry's bed.

"Ouch—"

Harry sat up, holding his throbbing scar, but he was certain it wasn't Voldemort this time. "How'd you get here?" he grumbled.

"Just dropping in to see you lot, poor souls, in your misery," George said melodramatically.

Fred mimicked Harry's gesture—holding his forehead, groaning in pain. Unfortunately, he collided with Harry.

"Makes a bet with George, guessing who'll get tackled… should've taken precautions. Harry, check this, is there anything weird on my head?" Fred grumbled.

"If you mean a lightning-shaped scar, nope," Harry responded quickly. "Apart from a bump that keeps swelling, I see nothing."

"Guess we'll need Tonks again," Fred sighed.

"Why?" Ron, just coming to, asked.

"She's cheerful—"

"A bit absent-minded—"

"And gets along with everyone—"

"Plus, she's got special potions, Fred's specialty." Fred and George chimed in.

Harry stared at them, momentarily forgetting the seriousness from before, though Fred and George grew solemn.

"Don't blame Ginny, Harry," Fred said. "Your training's been intense, even for us, and truth be told, we spend most of our days in Diagon Alley. But Ginny sees it all, every day. She's worried about you."

"I'm not blaming her," Harry shook his head.

"That's good," Fred and George relaxed, exchanged a look, then Fred handed Harry, Ron, and Hermione each a long, flesh-colored string from his pocket.

"What's this?" Harry asked, twirling the string in his hand.

"Oh, I've been wanting one of these!" Ron exclaimed, eagerly taking it. "It's an Extendable Ear, lets you eavesdrop without drawing attention… I really want to know what Snape's up to, so secretive, always sneaking around…"

Harry was intrigued.

Hesitant, Hermione debated taking it. Just then, Ron demonstrated; he inserted one end into his ear, and the other wriggled like a worm, squirming out under the door.

"Hmm, I hear some noise… it's the corridor, nothing much now, unless we're in for a surprise…"

Suddenly, he yelped, and distinct cat screeches echoed from Ron's ear and outside the door.

Hermione jumped up, opened the door, allowing Crookshanks in, holding the other end of the Extendable Ear. "Release it, Crookshanks, that's not for eating," she said, taking the device from George. "It might come in handy at the right time," she said, smiling.

...

"I'm concerned they're still affected by what happened a month ago," Sirius frowned.

"It's indeed hard to pretend nothing happened," Felix said calmly. "They were besieged by dozens of Death Eaters, an experience not easily forgotten, especially seeing their companions tortured… I doubt they want to go through that again."

"I can't even imagine what the Cruciatus Curse feels like, let alone pretend it didn't happen," Mrs. Weasley covered her mouth, tears glistening in her eyes. "I've had nightmares for days… always dreaming of Gideon and Fabian, their faces turning into Ron and Harry's…"

Mr. Weasley hugged his wife, consoling her.

Sirius and Felix exchanged a glance, tacitly avoiding discussing the bait plan at this moment.

In the blink of an eye, it was the last day of July.

"Happy birthday."

As Harry pushed the door open, he saw Neville holding a gift box at the entrance.

"Thanks, Neville," Harry yawned, pulling Neville inside while Ron struggled to put on a sleeve.

"Why'd they schedule the awards ceremony for today?" Neville sighed with regret.

"It's actually quite alright," Harry said. Watching everyone bustling for his birthday felt odd, leaving him unsure of how to react.

Once dressed, they began unwrapping gifts.

"A wand holster, brilliant, Neville," Harry exclaimed happily.

"I'm glad you like it," Neville said, then nervously added, "Hope it's not just to make me feel better?"

"Definitely not," Harry assured him.

Yesterday was Neville's birthday. Worried that the new term might cancel the dueling club plans, Harry had created an invitation card for the club, mimicking the style of the Hogwarts acceptance letter. Hermione was interested and enchanted it—

When someone opened it, a commanding voice echoed.

"Are you the chosen one, ready to face the challenge?"

Neville felt ecstatic.

Sirius gifted a pop-up book about Quidditch. Each page formed a 3D Quidditch pitch, with imaginary players reenacting classic match scenes.

"From this angle, Lynch stands no chance against Krum," Ron commented, staring at one particular page—a scene from last year's Quidditch World Cup finals where Krum deceived the opponents with the Wronski Feint.

Lupin wasn't present; Harry guessed he was in a new werewolf community. Still, he sent a handmade bone bracelet as a birthday gift through Tonks. Harry silently prayed it wasn't made from werewolf teeth.

Hermione's gift was a parchment enchanted with various spell names—all those Harry had mastered. Looking at the lengthy list filled him with a sense of accomplishment.

At that moment, the door creaked open, and Bill peered in.

"Breakfast's ready. We've got to hurry; the award ceremony starts at ten. It's best to be at the Ministry early…"

As they followed Bill downstairs, Harry saw two strangers at the table: a plump-cheeked witch with dark hair and a short man wearing a violet top hat—similar to Tonks's hair color today.

"Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle," Mr. Weasley introduced at the table.

The two looked curiously at Harry. Dedalus exaggeratedly removed his hat in a not-so-standard salute. "Hello, delighted to see you again."

Harry looked at him, utterly confused and with no recollection.

"At the Leaky Cauldron, before you started school," Dedalus provided more hints. "I shook

your hand then."

Ah, Harry thought. He recalled now, a wizard just as excitable as Colin back then.

"Hello, Harry," the witch named Heidi said. "We're your guards for today."

"Guards?" Harry blurted out, a bread crumb falling from his mouth.

"Don't worry, it's a standard procedure," the witch reassured him with a smile.

Meanwhile, Hermione was talking to Tonks. "No, I don't plan on letting them know now. We'll do it when there's an opportunity later."

Breakfast consisted of smoked meat, roasted potatoes, toast, and vegetable soup. After eating, they left through the front door of Grimmauld Place 12. "No Floo, too conspicuous," Felix said. "Harry, stick close to me."

Harry felt the atmosphere grow increasingly peculiar.

"Professor?"

>

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