The party ended and it was almost night.
The castle didn't quiet down immediately.
After two months, the students were back at school and were in high spirits. They were restless on the way back to the common room. The boys gathered together to laugh and play, and the girls gathered in groups to chat, chattering about interesting things during the holidays.
Ghosts crawled from one side of the wall to the other, from one suit of armor to another. In fact, it didn't matter to them. They didn't feel anything. But the screams of the little wizards gave them great encouragement.
Professor McGonagall had to call out twice before the students calmed down a little.
Melvin didn't feel much and returned to his room early. The castle walls were well soundproofed, and the noise disappeared as soon as the door was closed.
He washed up in the bathroom, changed into summer pajamas, put on slippers, and sat down behind the desk.
He opened an envelope he had just received and read it quietly.
The written letter from the Wizarding Examinations Authority, penned by Madam Marchbank, was a bit long, but the main points were clearly organized and the details were appropriately detailed. It spanned five pages of parchment. The first four pages were filled with scientific questions:
Does the universe have boundaries?
Can a damaged atmosphere be repaired with magic?
Why aren't whales fish? Why aren't bats birds?
Some of these questions were Madam Marchbank's own, along with many others from the Authority. It seemed the encyclopedia craze was still going strong.
The last two pages contained the main text.
"...Also, remember to record your course content, organize and summarize it, and send it to the Authority regularly. The committee will redesign the exam syllabus based on the content."
According to Madam Marchbank's plan, the fifth and seventh grades, currently taking the exams, would remain unchanged, covering previous years' content. The other third, fourth, and sixth grades would follow her plan and prepare for the new exams next year.
Unexpectedly, wizard professors at magic schools would also be required to write down their teaching records.
He responded to each question, promising to mail lesson plans monthly. He also recommended some books at the end of the letter—not children's encyclopedias, but popular science books for teenagers.
He folded the letter and put it in an envelope, planning to mail it tomorrow. He then pulled out a blank sheet of paper and began writing thoughtfully.
He planned to send his second letter to Knockturn Alley. He hadn't yet completed the deal he'd agreed to, and he hadn't received the map of wizarding villages around Britain. He was writing to follow up on the situation and inform them of the change in delivery address, which would now be sent to the Hogsmeade Owl Post.
He definitely couldn't receive it at Hogwarts; that would be the same as revealing his identity.
Finally, he found the timetable Professor McGonagall had sent him.
He had a class tomorrow morning, and it looked like it was for third-year students.
...
Hogwarts was a magical castle, and that magic emanated from every part of the school.
The magic of the Transfiguration classroom was Professor McGonagall's ability to transform desks into fat, grunting pigs with a wave of her wand; the magic of the portraits was the wizards roaming freely and whispering against the walls; the magic of the brick walls was the ever-shifting staircases and ever-moving doors, making it easy to get lost if you weren't careful; and then there were the ghosts that came and went, the students practicing magic, the house-elves hiding in the corners...
The new students and professors found it novel, while the other teachers and students had already adapted. Few wizards realized that this wonder had persisted for millennia, with no discernible change.
Such magic, lacking novelty and change, had long since revealed its many shortcomings.
Melvin walked up the shifting stone staircase, gradually understanding its changing patterns, his sense of novelty gradually fading.
The other new students experienced similar things.
"Don't think no one noticed you!"
He heard a deep, vaguely familiar voice. He paused at the turn of the landing, leaning out halfway to peer in, and saw Snape and Quirrell facing off.
"You were watching that boy, weren't you?"
"I... I don't... no..." Quirrell stammered, his stuttering severe, perhaps a side effect of Voldemort's possession of his mind.
"You deny it?"
"I don't... I don't... know that you..." Quirrell struggled to articulate himself.
"Don't know what I mean?"
"I didn't know that you were watching him, too."
"..."
Snape stared coldly into his eyes, suspecting he was doing it on purpose, but the last sentence was particularly fluent.
Melvin pursed his lips, unable to completely suppress a smile, letting out a short snort, which immediately caught the attention of both men, who turned their heads to look at him.
"Ahem..."
Melvin calmly walked around the corner. "Excuse me, where is the Muggle Studies classroom? I'm not very familiar with the castle."
Snape gave him a cold look, said nothing, and turned to walk downstairs.
Quirrell did point him in the direction, stumbling, but more fluently than before: "It's... on this floor. Turn right in front, it's the... the third room."
"Thank you very much,"
Melvin said with a smile, watching him disappear into the distance.
Snape was truly unfriendly. Look at Professor Quirrell.
The former Muggle Studies professor gave clear directions. Melvin walked down the corridor, turned right at the corner, and found his classroom without a hitch.
With a few minutes left before class, the third-year students were almost all present, chatting and talking. The boys were mainly discussing why the last section of the fourth-floor corridor had suddenly been blocked off, while the girls were discussing his outfit from the previous night and the information he'd published in the newspaper.
Melvin paused and listened for half a minute, distinguishing the houses from their conversation and recognizing a few prominent faces.
"Ding dong..."
The bell rang, and the classroom fell silent. Melvin pushed open the door and entered.
The professor was still wearing his Muggle clothes: a pine green blazer paired with a jet black shirt. The notched lapels were naturally rolled. The blended fabric draped naturally, with no sharp lines. The fabric was soft yet slightly wide, with gentle pleats, giving him a casual, comfortable, and distinguished air.
Many young witches' eyes lit up.
The boys also noticed that the professor seemed quite handsome.
"Melvin... Lewynter..."
The students followed the chalk, watching the chalk shavings outline the professor's name, and they murmured unconsciously.
This method was really unremarkable. Professor McGonagall introduced herself by deforming the entire blackboard, Professor Flitwick used magical brilliance to outline, and even Professor Sprout, the Herbology professor, once had her last name spelled out with venomous tentacles.
"What?" someone asked Professor Snape.
He disdained to introduce himself.
The professor's opening was a bit Muggle-esque.
Melvin wrote his name on the blackboard and casually dropped the chalk on the table. "I believe many of you have seen my name in your notices and perhaps even read about me in the Daily Prophet. Considering that some students don't read newspapers and have many questions about the changes to this course...
" "Now, you have five minutes to raise your hands and ask questions."
The young wizard's eyes lit up.
It was always the professor who asked them questions, guiding them through the course information, but this was the first time a professor had let them ask questions.
It felt like a dialogue between equals.
The novel teaching method immediately piqued their interest, and even the new professor felt closer.
Swish!
A female student was the first to react, raising her right hand high. As expected, she took the first question.
"The girl in the second row."
"Professor, are you really from Ilvermorny?"
"It's a worthless question, but yes."
"..."
"The boy next to you, you go ask."
"Uh... Professor, why did you drop out?" "
It's a very interesting question. When I dropped out, I thought many people would ask it, so I prepared many answers, but none of them came in handy. Even Headmaster Dumbledore didn't ask when he recruited me. I suspect he forgot."
The slightly teasing words caused some chuckles in the classroom. Melvin waited for the laughter to subside before continuing to answer:
"The more written answer is that I had already completed my studies at that time, and the remaining two years of courses were just review and preparation for exams. I needed to go out into the wider world to verify the knowledge I had learned in the past, to observe, to experience, to explore. My head was full of ideas waiting to be put into practice, and that graduation certificate was not that important to me, so dropping out became a natural choice."
The students in the audience quieted down, and
a Gryffindor girl raised her hand: "Professor, what is the less written answer?"
"A less formal answer..."
Melvin paused, then smiled and said, "The world is so big, I want to see it."
Laughter echoed through the classroom.
Some students rolled their eyes, lost in thought.
"Dropping out was a difficult decision for me. At the time, I was certain I had a clear plan or was fortunate enough to have the opportunity. However, I wouldn't recommend others follow suit. If I knew any of you were considering dropping out, I would simply contact your parents and suggest confiscating your wands and grounding you."
Sensing a slight increase in seriousness, Melvin was quite satisfied.
"Professor, what is Ilvermorny like?"
"It's actually similar to Hogwarts. It also has four colleges and is also boarding, but the curriculum is different and the teaching model is a little different. If you want to know more about other magic schools, I recommend a few books here. If you are interested, you can go to the library to check them out, such as "The Education Crisis in the Magical World", "How Various Magic Schools Influence Wizarding Society", "School in the Desert: A History of the Struggle for Witch Education in Afghanistan"... "
Professor Lewynt, I want to know how the new curriculum is different from the past and what we are going to learn?"
"You will know this later. It can't be explained in a few words."
"Professor! We can talk about other things later, but you must answer this now!"
"You say."
"Are there a lot of homeworks and are they difficult?"
"Not sure yet. It depends on your performance."
"Professor, I heard that you are a consultant to the Examination Authority. Will you set the content of future exams? Will you set the questions?"
"Don't think I don't know what you are thinking. I advise you to study hard."
"..."
The five-minute question time ended quickly. The students were still unsatisfied. They seemed to have asked a lot of questions, but it seemed that they didn't ask anything. However, they had shortened the distance with the professor.
This theoretical course, which wasn't magical at all, piqued the interest of many students who had originally been attending with a history of magic attitude, and now they were willing to pay a little attention.
"Now you know me pretty well, it's my turn..."
Melvin pulled out a chair and sat down next to the podium. Facing the students' gaze, he pointed to the girl in the front row on the far right. "Start with you. Introduce yourself. Tell us your name, your house, and why you chose this course."
Another novel experience they had never experienced before!
The students' eyes lit up.
Muggle-born students had experienced this before, but this was their first time at a magic school, and the experience was truly fascinating.
"I'm Alicia Spinnet, from Gryffindor."
The girl was a little nervous, but her previous experience made her willing to share her thoughts: "I'm a Muggle-born, and I think this course should be easy, so I can get an additional certificate."
Melvin wasn't surprised. Having been a student himself, he knew many people felt the same way.
He waved her to sit down and gestured for the girl behind her to continue: "Next."
"Angelina Johnson, Gryffindor. I'm roommates with Alya, and she dragged me here."
"I'm Lee Jordan, from Gryffindor. I like Angelina, so I came because she was here."
The black boy with dreadlocks said it openly, causing the classroom to burst into laughter.
Angelina Johnson couldn't help but roll her eyes at him.
"..."
"Cedric Diggory, Hufflepuff. I'm interested in Muggle culture and want to learn more about it. If it's interesting, I might continue to take it. If I'm too busy with other classes, I might give up the advanced course for my fifth year."
"..."
"Roger Davies, Ravenclaw. I have the same idea as Cedric."
"..." "
Cassius Warrington, Slytherin. My father told me to take it so it would be easier for me to join the Ministry after graduation."
"..."
Quite a few students took Muggle Studies, and their reasons were similar: they found the course easy and convenient for getting a certificate, some came to accompany friends, and some to pursue a romantic partner. Only a small number of students were interested in Muggle Studies, but they didn't consider it a crucial subject.
Slytherins were the fewest and most determined to take it, their goals clear and unabashed.
The other young wizards weren't surprised either. This behavior seemed normal in the wizarding world, at least among pure-bloods.
After the last student finished introducing himself, Melvin stood up without any comment, seemingly unconcerned about their reasons for choosing the course. "One question, have you known each other before? Mr. Diggory, you go ahead and answer."
Cedric thoughtfully replied, "I know all the Hufflepuffs, and I have a basic acquaintance with the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. I know a few of the Slytherin Quidditch team members, but I only recognize their faces, not their names."
For the first two years, the required courses were taught in two houses together, so students in the same grade had basically taken classes together. Hufflepuffs got along well with the other houses, but only Slytherins were less familiar.
"I see."
Melvin nodded, unsurprised. "Those whose names were called, please come out and help move textbooks from the library storage room. The rest of you will stay in the classroom and get to know each other.
"Cedric Diggory, Lee Jordan, Roger Davis, Cassius Warrington..."
The young professor seemed to remember their names after hearing them once.
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(End of this chapter)