Chapter 23: Dumbledore's Visit
2022-07-14 Author: I'm Just a Pigeon
Books are by no means cheap, especially textbooks. A slightly more specialized textbook will have you wondering if its pages are made of silver when you go to pay.
William could completely understand why the merchant had come looking for him, but given his current state, just following the established curriculum would be an achievement. Choosing suitable textbooks himself would be nothing but trouble.
He was prepared to tell the owner this plainly. He had no intention of choosing newly published books to serve as textbooks, not even if he weren't facing his current crisis.
But when he put on a stern face and opened the door, the person standing behind it gave him a huge shock.
A deep voice sounded from behind Old Tom:
"Good afternoon, Mr. William. It is rather presumptuous of me to visit without sending a letter first, but the matter is quite urgent. I felt a face-to-face communication was necessary."
Despite his words, the visitor's tone was not particularly anxious. His tall, thin frame allowed his face to be seen clearly behind Old Tom. His gentle smile made it impossible to imagine that this kind old man was the most powerful wizard in the Wizarding World.
"Good afternoon, Professor Dumbledore. To be honest, I never expected you to come, right up until the moment I opened the door."
William forced himself not to show an eager expression—he couldn't help it; the man before him was simply too generous.
So far, William had drawn over twenty boxes from the System, and compared to all the others, a single Approval Box from Albus Dumbledore could crush the rest combined.
Other people's boxes were like pulling from a prize pool, but Dumbledore's box was like getting to choose any one of the grand prizes after having paid to clear out the entire pool.
Moreover, considering his experience of getting a second box from Mundungus, William was certain he could get at least one more box from Dumbledore—which was basically like printing another grand prize card.
It was precisely because he had considered this problem that he had resolutely chosen to muddle through half a year at Hogwarts. Although it now seemed he had been screwed over by his own choice, what was done was done. He couldn't just give up on the benefit that had driven his choice in the first place.
"Perhaps it's just a bit of an old man's stubbornness. We always like to do as we please. By the way, won't you invite me in for a cup of hot chocolate?"
Professor, I regret to inform you that Old Tom doesn't take kindly to sweets appearing in his pub—just as William was about to say this, Old Tom, who was standing in the doorway, had already responded to Dumbledore with a beaming smile.
"Of course! The finest hot chocolate, with a dash of white wine mixed in. It's my specialty."
Old Tom gestured eagerly into the room. "Please, have a seat, Professor. The hot chocolate will be ready in a moment."
What happened to the pub not selling chocolate?
William sighed softly, then shouted to Old Tom, who was running downstairs, "I'll have a cup too!"
After doing so, he walked directly into the room and sat on the bed, leaving the only chair for Dumbledore.
"The lighting is quite good," Dumbledore said, glancing around the room before his eyes settled on the pile of books on the desk.
Beside the books was a thick stack of notebooks—with his life on the line, William was tackling these books with the same spirit he would use to review for his university finals.
"Thorough preparations. It seems we made the best choice. I'd bet that even Minerva would be moved to sigh with admiration upon seeing these notes."
Dumbledore's expression grew even more pleasant. Clearly, the Headmaster greatly appreciated a professor who took his academic duties so seriously.
"After all, I've never received any systematic training on this material. Although it's a bit late to be supplementing now, some preparation is better than none."
William told a half-truth.
Excluding his self-study in Azkaban, he had received almost no magical education. His current diligence wasn't a review; it was self-study.
But Dumbledore was very satisfied with this answer.
The professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts—now called Wizard Self-Defense Magic—was, strictly speaking, never too far from Azkaban. After all, someone who didn't understand Dark Magic was completely unqualified for the position.
A wizard who was of age and could support himself in the Wizarding World, even if his strength was a little lacking, could just about handle this course. The unresolvable curse that forced the professor to leave the school each year, in particular, had significantly lowered the requirements for the position.
Under such circumstances, a professor who was willing to work hard at his teaching, and who was modest and not arrogant, simply couldn't have pleased Dumbledore more—especially when compared to the other new applicant.
"This is the situation. For the Dark Magic—oh, the Wizard Self-Defense Magic course, we have received an application letter from another wizard. Considering that having one person teach seven years' worth of students is indeed a bit much (Note 1), we have decided to accept his application."
"A new person?" William was stunned.
Perhaps the past professors' experiences of only getting injured had led the school to underestimate the curse, or perhaps the Dark Lord's failure to be resurrected had greatly weakened the curse's power, but William knew very well that this course was a deep pit. Whoever jumped in would meet with disaster.
"I believe I can handle it, Professor Dumbledore," William said sincerely.
If the curse's power would be reduced by someone else joining, he might have hesitated for a long while before refusing, but in the current situation, there was absolutely no need to drag someone else down with him.
"I certainly trust you, especially after seeing all these materials on your desk. However, Professor McGonagall and I have discussed it, and if another wizard is willing to try, we will not refuse his application, for the students' sake. The coursework for seven academic years would break a young professor."
Dumbledore explained kindly.
"What about the curse? This isn't an ordinary position. The professor runs into trouble every year because of the curse."
"Over the years, we have tried every method possible to counter the curse. Although we have not succeeded in erasing it, we have done our best to reduce the danger. The new professor is as aware of this matter as you are. The curse is not a problem."
[The curse you are under has found someone to share the burden. You have obtained a Blessing Box.]
There were no more excuses, nor were any needed. If he wasn't mistaken, while Dumbledore was here notifying him, Professor McGonagall was likely signing a contract with the other applicant.
(One more chapter to come)
Note 1: According to the more widely accepted fan-theorized class schedules, Defense Against the Dark Arts has at least one major lecture per week, lasting for half a day. During class, each year level is composed of two Houses learning together. This means each year level requires half a day of teaching time. Even if the Seventh Year has fewer classes due to internships, and the Sixth Year is a major elective without House divisions, these courses alone would take up three full days. This doesn't even account for lesson preparation time or the time spent grading essays, which are also massive time sinks. In other words, with all the miscellaneous tasks, a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor teaching seven years would basically need a Time-Turner to teach normally. It's a more brutal grind than a 996 work schedule.
(end of chapter)