A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts
Chapter 637: Discussion - (2)

Although she usually appears a bit old-fashioned, it's a trait cultivated from dealing with mischievous students. She possesses Ravenclaw traits and nearly ended up sorted into Ravenclaw upon entering school. Her approach to knowledge is meticulous, and she never shies away from displaying courage.

This is evident in her mastery of Animagi.

However, what gives her pause is whether to involve students in risks and to what extent. She gazes at Felix, who wears a confident smile.

"Let's hear your plan," Professor McGonagall says. "I won't agree if there's even the slightest problem."

"No problem," Felix says cheerfully. "I bet those students won't even bother reading the material, so we have plenty of time..."

The door is pushed open from the outside.

"It's quite lively. I heard it from outside," the burly Slughorn wheezes as he squeezes in, carrying a small fruit basket. "So, you're hiding here. I was wondering why I couldn't find anyone after dinner." When he sees Grindelwald, a shrewd expression crosses his face.

"Horace," Professor McGonagall says, her face still slightly flushed. "Did someone send you something again?"

"Oh, this?" Slughorn, uncharacteristically refraining from boasting about his connections, fumbles with the buttons on his vest and mutters, "It's from Carlotta Pinkstone. I knew her when I was young, and she wasn't this crazy... stubborn back then."

He places the small basket on the table, unwraps the packaging, revealing candies and preserves inside.

"Ah, my favorites... Help yourselves," he says, plucking a piece of sugared pineapple with his chubby fingers, using his other hand to pour himself a cup of tea. He sniffs it gently, "Honey tea, a perfect match."

"So, what were you talking about? If you don't mind, I'd like to introduce the small Christmas party I've prepared. Many celebrities will be invited," he glances at Felix discreetly.

"Thanks, Horace," Professor McGonagall says dismissively. She and Slughorn have been colleagues for many years, and she understands the temperament of this potions master very well. "It's clear that retirement hasn't made your teaching skills rusty; you're still at ease."

"To be honest, it's a bit unusual," Slughorn says with a smile. "There have been many changes since I retired, such as... all the good seedlings being taken away. It's natural, though. There are many excellent colleagues in the school."

In the evening, Harry, Ron, and Ginny, tired after Quidditch training, drag their heavy feet back to the common room.

"Was the training smooth?" Hermione asks as she reads the Animagi material, waving her wand to clean the mud and dust off Harry and the others' faces. She's now proficient in non-verbal spells.

"Thanks," Ginny says wearily. "Everyone's performance is unpredictable, and if we're lucky, we can score amazing points. But if everyone's in bad shape..."

She shrugs.

Harry is too tired to talk. He has been shouting tactical instructions all day, and his throat seems to be malfunctioning; even swallowing saliva hurts.

Hermione looks up at them and says calmly, "Although it may seem heartless, I suggest you allocate some time to read the material the professors gave us. Don't end up unprepared."

"Hermione, we know what we're doing," Ron lounges on the sofa, nonchalantly saying, "The most important thing now is Quidditch! You don't understand; we've picked a fight with Malfoy. I dream of hitting the Bludger right on his face."

"Are you planning to take on the Beaters' role? What about the goalpost? Let it learn how to dodge Bludgers on its own?" Hermione sarcastically remarks.

Harry silently smiles, quickly suppressing it. He thinks keeping Ron's spirits high is a wise move.

"So, I detailed my dream to Perks and Gudgeon," Ron rolls his eyes. At this point, Hermione pulls out a book from the pile and starts reading.

"They were highly motivated and decided to help me fulfill my wish. No need to thank me, Harry," he waves his hand towards Harry.

Hermione snorts, then bends down to pick up another book, counting the pages carefully, and starts taking notes.

"Hermione, how do you do that?" Harry asks hoarsely.

"Oh, what? Read several books at once?"

"They were originally together," Hermione explains. "Don't you get used to the professor's style? He likes—"

"Even with annotations?" Ginny leans over, looking at the materials in front of Hermione curiously, then reads out what she sees, "About reasons for maintaining emotional calm, refer to Chapter 12, 'Do Not Study Magic in a Bad Mood,' in the 'Complete Guide to Spells Invented by the Spell Experiment Committee.'"

Harry exclaims incredulously, "Is that what's in the material?" He feels his throat smoking.

"Almost every page... Oh, only the first third, the part provided by Professor McGonagall doesn't have annotations. She just added safety precautions, failure cases, and her personal comments."

Several people look at each other. After a long while, there's a loud bang, and Ron flips over from behind the chair.

"Are you okay, Ron?" Harry half-concerned, half-amused, pulls him up from the floor. When Ron stands up, his face still holds a shocked expression.

"I was thinking of staying up after the match to read the material, now it's impossible," Ron says with a pale face. Then, as if seeing a savior, he says, "H-Hermione, you must lend us your notes."

...

In the blink of an eye, the weekend arrives.

The ceiling of the Great Hall depicts a sky with clouds, indicating good weather today. As Harry and his friends descend, Gryffindor students warmly greet them. Harry even spots Luna and genuinely hopes for a miracle, like Professor McGonagall spontaneously deciding to host the match...

As he changes into his Quidditch robes in the locker room and leads the nervous players onto the field, the cold wind rustles his hair. Yet, his heart has completely calmed down.

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