"Of course, Headmaster Dumbledore," Arthur Morgan said with a nod, lowering his hand.
"Then can we dig them out now?" Ludo Bagman asked.
Arthur shrugged helplessly. "Being buried doesn't stop anyone from taking a photo. Do as you like."
"Mm…" Bagman glanced at Arthur—who looked ready to swing if anyone disagreed—and then at Dumbledore behind him, who was very clearly pretending none of this concerned him. In the end, Bagman wisely chose to read the room.
"Very well. Just as Mr. Morgan said, being buried doesn't prevent photography. The only question is—who's going to take the picture?"
"I'll do it." Arthur naturally took the camera, waited for everyone to find their positions, and pressed the shutter.
Kes—Chak!!
The little incident ended quickly, without even stirring a proper breeze. After the photo was taken, everyone—including Sirius and Arthur's group—returned to the Great Hall and sat down in their seats.
Kasen watched the scene and smiled. "Looks like everything's been handled?"
"Clearly, yes." Sirius grinned. "Rita Skeeter is still buried at the school gates."
"Then all's well." Kasen nodded. "This is already the second time she's been buried."
"Who did it the first time?" Sirius asked, clueless.
"Heh~" Kasen only smiled without answering.
"I… think I get it now," Sirius muttered, lips tightening.
After the short banquet ended, Kasen returned to his office, with Cedric following along—and Harry, who had been forcibly dragged along by Cedric.
"So… Harry, you came here for… special tutoring?" Kasen asked.
Harry nodded vigorously. "Mm-hmm-hmm!"
"…I don't think you're particularly suited for this. You'd be better off going to Professor Flitwick, or to Sirius for focused training in Dark Arts." Kasen rubbed his chin, thinking for a long moment before speaking carefully.
"Why?" Harry asked miserably.
"Well… alchemy is a discipline that requires a tremendous amount of patience. Especially my kind of alchemy. You can ask Cedric how long it took him to handcraft his first mechanical joint," Kasen said.
Harry looked at Cedric, who stared at the ceiling. "About two days? Because joints aren't like other parts. They're far more delicate than regular bones. And when you get to the spine, it gets even harder."
"Exactly. Harry, you're very smart, but your personality is too restless. I'm not saying you're unfit to learn alchemy. I'm saying that with your temperament, learning alchemy would be painful. In contrast, learning Dark Arts—magic that gives a quick sense of accomplishment—would be much more comfortable for you," Kasen explained.
"But professor, that's Dark Magic!" Harry said, startled.
"The category of Dark Magic isn't that narrow. Some spells aren't tied to emotions at all, but they're incredibly destructive, so they're classified as Dark Magic too. What I want you to learn are those kinds."
"Oh… alright…" Harry muttered, sulking as he sat on the sofa with his arms crossed.
While brooding, he still had to watch Kasen guiding Cedric as he installed a mechanical arm. For the first time, Harry felt as if something—or someone—he liked had been taken away from him.
First, Cho Chang—Ehm, no—Professor Kasen had been "stolen" by Cedric. Cedric had become a genuine Hogwarts star, while he himself was, in other people's words, "the little schemer who used his petty tricks to become a champion."
Even though Professor Kasen had made it very clear that Harry was being framed, those young witches and wizards who disliked him kept deliberately spreading that so-called "truth."
And on the other side, the first magic he ever witnessed in the wizarding world—back when Kasen had created those everlasting candles using alchemy—had now been stolen from him too.
He had suddenly become "the wizard without alchemy talent," while the very person who had "stolen" his professor—Cedric—just happened to have talent for alchemy.
Right now, Harry felt like he'd been double cuckolded, to put it bluntly.
Or, even more plainly:
He felt like his parents' love had been shifted entirely onto a newly born "little brother."
Even though, back when he lived at his aunt's house, he had always been the child who never received any affection.
Kasen, who had unintentionally become the emotional "central heating system" of the room, didn't notice Harry's inner turmoil at all. While attaching Cedric's mechanical arm, he even used another mechanical arm to brew Harry a pot of lemon tea.
"Professor, I'm going now." Feeling like he had come at entirely the wrong time, Harry finally left the Alchemy Office.
Cedric, lying on the other sofa, slowly turned his head and said dryly, "I'm sorry, professor."
"What are you apologizing for?" Kasen asked, puzzled.
"Technically, I should apologize to both of you—you and Harry," Cedric said awkwardly.
"…Did Dumbledore infect you? Why are you suddenly talking in riddles?" Kasen frowned.
"Harry seemed really sad just now." Unlike the oblivious and busy Kasenhis, Cedric had clearly felt Harry's hurt, pouty mood.
"At that age, all young wizards go through that. When my younger brother was born, my parents would call for their favourite son, and I always thought they meant me. Even though I knew better, I'd still refuse to answer so I don't end up hurting my younger brother's feelings. Kids have those little emotional storms—they flare up and disappear just as fast," Kasen explained.
"But professor, aren't you an orphan?" Cedric asked in confusion.
"That was something I made up to mess with you."
"Why don't we try saying something truthful for once?" Cedric said, speechless.
"Sure."
"Then I'll go first." Cedric spoke with quiet understanding. "I'm not the most outstanding student at Hogwarts. There are plenty of upperclassmen far better than me. But they obviously had no interest in joining the Triwizard Tournament, so I just picked up the opportunity they left behind."
"Then I'll say something true as well." Kasen cleared his throat. "I didn't ignore them out of spite or understanding at first. They called for their favourite son, and I assumed they meant me—but they were actually talking to my baby brother. That's why I got upset and pretended I hadn't heard them."
"Professor… aren't you an orphan?" Cedric asked again, utterly lost.
"That's your second lesson. Don't go around telling too much truth. No one wants to hear it," Kasen said, raising an eyebrow.
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