A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Felix and Dumbledore opened their eyes simultaneously, the professors in the room staring at them anxiously.

"Are you two having a secret conversation?" Sirius asked sharply. "We've been staring like idiots for five minutes."

He wasn't wrong. In someone else's dream, Felix couldn't use thought acceleration—however much time passed in the dream, the same amount passed in reality.

Snape disdainfully waved his sleeve and walked away.

"You could think of it as two therapists discussing treatment, not wanting to be disturbed by some noisy folks," Felix teased. "Speaking of which, have all those sessions teaching students apparition drained your energy yet?"

Sirius clicked his tongue, murmuring, "I should ask for a raise."

At that moment, Professor Burbage woke up in her bed. Initially flustered, she quickly calmed down when Dumbledore's bright blue eyes peered at her through his spectacles, a sight that amazed Felix.

"Charity, I don't mean this as a reprimand, but you shouldn't bear these troubles alone," Dumbledore gently said. "At Hogwarts, you can always seek help."

Trembling, Burbage took a deep breath, tears welling up. She covered her face, saying, "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Charity, what happened exactly? I've heard part of it from the students, but their explanations were absurd—silent spells? That's impossible," Professor Flitwick exclaimed. "Perhaps we can be of assistance."

"It's shadows," a deep, slow voice echoed in the ward. "I saw many wizards, blurry, indistinct, couldn't see their faces..."

"You mean the Ancient Runes Symposium at Hogwarts?" Professor McGonagall said curtly. "Thank you, Sybill. I can't pretend I haven't read about it in the papers... October 27th, three weeks from now."

"Of course not!" Trelawney shouted, as if insulted, glaring at McGonagall. "I foresaw it, the symposium facing complications... Destiny warned me. I'm talking about something else..."

"Could you clarify that a bit more?" McGonagall asked patiently, suppressing a snort.

"Well... the Inner Eye cannot be trivialized, but... yes, I did see something," Trelawney strained to widen her eyes, tilting her head. Her spectacles flickered as she deliberately trembled, saying, "It seemed like an island, no, perhaps a castle..."

Others lost interest, redirecting their attention to the people in the beds.

Burbage's lips moved hesitantly, uncertain how to begin. Nobody rushed her, and finally, she opened up: "It's my fault—I learned some things from the Muggle world that made me doubt myself... doubt magic. I've been a fool."

"My thoughts wavered several times," she said softly. "Around two years ago, I encountered similar knowledge in a book, 'Mendel's Legacy.' Some of its viewpoints aligned with my long-held beliefs," she glanced at Dumbledore quickly, "you know, I'm against 'pure-blood supremacy'... Muggle books wouldn't mention wizards, but the essence was similar."

Then she unconsciously started using unfamiliar terms like "Mendel," "pea experiments," "genes," and "hybridization," leaving everyone puzzled. They looked to Dumbledore and then to Felix.

"In short, it's vocabulary Muggles coined while delving into the grand theme of 'life,'" Felix summarized.

A few professors suddenly understood—it was clearer put that way.

Professor Sprout studied Burbage. "No wonder you were chatting with me frequently for a while, sounding like you were studying people as plants."

"Plants? How can people be like plants?" Professor Sinistra shook her head.

"It's not entirely that," Burbage countered. "The book was just introductory; their research methods were crude at the time, only in the last decade has it become enriched... What I mean is, Mendel was from the nineteenth century."

Felix blinked. He wondered when Headmaster Dumbledore was born but thought better than to voice that idea, finding it somewhat offensive.

"If I may say, you were ahead of many with your ideas, Charity," Dumbledore said gently. "However... how did you find yourself in this perilous situation?"

"I, sigh," she sighed. "Two years ago, I attended a Muggle research conference that was abruptly interrupted, preventing the publication of my hurriedly completed paper. Earlier, Professor Harp warned me, believing my research would invite collective opposition from pure-blood wizards. I didn't pay much attention..."

She sniffed, "I optimistically believed that with enough research depth, I could prevail in foreseeable disputes, silence them with irrefutable evidence."

Burbage hesitated, "Later, my research hit a snag, so I turned to Muggle books that had inspired me. I purchased cutting-edge professional books, journals, papers, buried myself in reading. Progress was slow, with too many unfamiliar words and convoluted logic... Honestly, initially, I didn't expect Muggles to achieve anything remarkable... I just sought new perspectives to refine my theory. But as I delved deeper, I discovered a terrifying fact: Muggles had no mention of magic in their study of life's essence, not a single word... Yet their theories surprisingly held up... I was incredulous, wanting to find flaws, but... alas, the nightmare unfolded."

Fear filled her eyes; she trembled, taking a large gulp of the hot chocolate. The aromatic liquid brought her courage as she began narrating the crucial part.

"Despite my rational mind rejecting it, my subconscious accepted these theories. My research quietly shifted: I hoped to merge these two viewpoints. I mean, meld them together... it was too ambitious... My mind became utterly confused," Burbage shivered, her eyes showing bewildered uncertainty. "It's strange, they shared astonishing similarities in some aspects, but were completely opposite in others... I couldn't reconcile these contradictions, so during the summer break, I visited Muggle experts in biological studies. But that led to more dreadful consequences; I began doubting magic... In the end, the end..."

She closed her mouth tightly, and the ward fell into silence.

Every professor fell into contemplation. Snape glanced peculiarly at Felix. Though his face remained as serene as a stone or a plant thriving in darkness, turmoil brewed within him.

That lad nearly dug his own grave.

His Christmas present to himself! Those chemistry books! Though Felix gifted him high school lab manuals, Snape had stumbled upon some chemistry books at a bookstore in Knockturn Alley during his summer break. Reading them earnestly proved beneficial...

Snape's expression was inscrutable as he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. No one could fathom his thoughts. He did notice several contradictions between the wizarding world and what he read in the chemistry books. Yet, he didn't dwell on it. He knew early on that Muggles lacked magic. Even if he handed them potion recipes, their best outcome would be a pot of foul-smelling pus.

Thinking this, he cast a cold glance at Professor Burbage. Not acknowledging wizardry, no wonder she got betrayed by her own magic.

At that moment, Sirius Black shattered the room's quiet.

"Why obsess over these matters?" He shrugged. "James and I tinkered with a motorcycle... I mean, risked going to Muggle shops, uh, investigated Death Eaters! Exactly!... Back then, we barely understood the purpose of a spark plug, but that didn't stop us from keeping it. Never bothered us when we sat on it."

"That's different," Snape said.

"I'd argue it's the same," Sirius reflexively countered. "Maybe you think you have all knowledge? All power?"

Snape shot him a cold glance and ignored him. "Professor Dumbledore, if there's nothing else, I'll take my leave." With that, he left the ward. A few seconds later, his lively voice echoed from outside: "No magic in the corridors! Gryffindor, minus twenty points!"

Sirius couldn't sit still; he found a feeble excuse to leave. Soon, heated arguments resonated from the corridor.

"Severus Snape! Try docking points randomly again!"

"Ah," Dumbledore snapped out of his reverie, turning to Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, you better go check. Separate them before they make a bigger scene. I'd rather not see Hogwarts professors brawling making the front page."

After McGonagall left, others followed suit, leaving the ward with only Dumbledore, Charity Burbage, Felix, and Madam Pomfrey.

Dumbledore explained the two most feasible treatment methods to Professor Burbage. Unexpectedly, she didn't opt for the seemingly easier one.

"I don't want to forget that knowledge," Burbage hesitated. "I'll be more cautious in the future!"

"If you insist," Dumbledore respected her choice but warned, "but you must refrain from similar research in the short term."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Burbage nodded solemnly.

"It's best to take Kerry to Saint Mungo's for some recuperation. The environment here is too basic, only suitable for routine injuries," Madam Pomfrey suggested.

"But I don't want to miss... I, uh, alright," Burbage said.

Dumbledore stood up casually. "That's settled then. Please wait; I need a few minutes to explain to the students. Their minds are always brimming with various ideas; it's best not to let them run wild."

He exited the ward, his cheerful voice faintly heard from outside: "...happy to announce... won't have a lasting impact... a bit worn out, needs a few days of rest... won't be long before I return as your intact professor..."

In the ward, Felix prepared to bid farewell.

"Professor Snape," Burbage hesitated, calling out to him, "I'm sorry I didn't heed your advice."

"No one foresaw this," Felix said calmly. "I understand your course of action: finding a glimpse of treasure on the path forward, it's hard for normal folks not to be enticed." He sympathized with Burbage's plight but pondered more on self-reflection.

In his mind, he considered another question. If wizards were to reveal their identities one day to foster communication, there needed to be a place where both wizards and Muggles could coexist. Like a test field, where all mature and immature ideas could be practiced...

Placing it in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade wasn't suitable; more real-world factors needed consideration—such as the Muggle government's stance. But Trelawney's words gave him an idea, an island...

Felix pondered, unsure if he could create it in the future?

...

Professor Burbage didn't settle in Saint Mungo's. She was absent for only two days before returning from the hospital, causing minimal chatter among the student body. As she reimmersed herself in teaching, especially showcasing the Levitation Charm in class, the baseless rumors fizzled out.

Hogwarts Castle regained its tranquility. As October 27 approached, newspapers extensively covered related news, with numerous photos of the Hogwarts Hogsmeade venue being published.

A student perused the latest newspaper, displaying an unfinished venue map. Several workers stood in a small clearing in the center of Hogsmeade, directing wooden boards into their rightful positions.

"It looks like a massive open-air auditorium," the student remarked.

"More like a dueling ground," their companion corrected.

Their viewpoints were representative. Regarding this exchange event, Hogwarts students focused differently. They automatically split into two factions: one concentrating on the exchange itself, discussing who might attend and what the event might achieve; the other firmly fixated on the event's sidelights—challenge segments.

Coincidentally, the latter perspective prevailed in both Gryffindor and Slytherin houses.

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