It was a rare occasion for Snape to speak for such a long stretch without interruption. Afterwards, he waved his wand, levitating the wardrobe and striding swiftly out of the classroom.
He left behind a group of young witches and wizards, all exchanging baffled glances.
Audrey stood up and quickly followed. "Professor Snape."
Snape turned back with a frown. "What, you have objections to what I just said?"
"Of course not! I completely agree with your views, Professor."
"Hm."
He stared silently at Audrey, waiting for her to continue.
"It's like this…would you be willing to teach me the Patronus Charm?"
Snape's pupils contracted slightly.
"Why do you suddenly want to learn that?"
Audrey gave a slightly embarrassed smile. "You probably already know—Edward, for some reason, still can't manage to cast a Patronus. I just thought that if I could learn it, I might be able to help him next time we run into Dementors."
"…"
Snape's eye twitched slightly. After more than ten seconds of silence, he finally gave a nod.
"Fine."
"Thank you, Professor!"
———
After lunch, the students quickly returned for their afternoon classes.
Hermione, carrying a thick stack of books, hurried beside Audrey, speaking rapidly:
"Audrey, do you remember during the Welcome Feast, when Headmaster Dumbledore specifically warned everyone not to go near the right-hand corridor on the fourth floor?"
"What about it?"
"Well, some time ago, we accidentally…wandered in at night."
"Accidentally?"
Hermione's expression turned slightly awkward. "That's not important! What matters is, in one of the rooms, there's a gigantic, three-headed dog guarding something."
"Oh?"
Audrey's interest was instantly piqued. "Guarding what?"
"We don't know. We were so scared we ran off immediately."
She lowered her voice. "But later, we asked Hagrid about it and learned that the enormous dog is actually his pet…Forgive me, I still can't reconcile its appearance with the word 'pet.'"
"Hagrid was really nervous. He shouted, 'Forget the dog, forget what it's guarding—that's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel—' and then he clapped a hand over his mouth."
"But that alone was enough! With Harry's reminder, I finally found some information in the library. Nicolas Flamel is the only known creator of the Philosopher's Stone!"
Audrey looked surprised. "The Philosopher's Stone? What's that?"
Ron, walking nearby, couldn't help chiming in proudly, "It's an artifact of ancient alchemy with incredible powers. It can turn any metal into pure gold and also produce the Elixir of Life, making the drinker immortal. Thanks to the Stone, Nicolas Flamel and his wife have lived for over six hundred years and are still alive today."
At that, Ron's face lit up in dreamy fascination. "Endless gold and eternal life—what could be better?"
Harry muttered, "Yeah, and yet it has absolutely nothing to do with you."
Audrey looked thoughtful. "So, the three-headed dog is probably guarding the Philosopher's Stone?"
Remembering Edward's earlier conversation with Dumbledore, the theory seemed even more plausible. That place might very well be Dumbledore's trap, using the Philosopher's Stone as bait to lure Voldemort.
Audrey looked at the trio and asked, "So, why are you telling me this all of a sudden? You're not planning to steal the Stone, are you?"
"Of course not!"
Hermione shook her head fervently. "It's because we heard that a group of dark wizards recently tried to break into Hogwarts to steal something. I suspect it might be connected to the Philosopher's Stone."
"Hmm, that sounds like something the professors should be handling, don't you think?"
"But what if one of the professors is a spy for the dark wizards?"
Audrey paused. "Who?"
Hermione glanced around furtively before whispering, "Snape!"
Audrey pressed a hand to her forehead and sighed, "Did you all forget I'm in Slytherin?"
"…."
The three of them froze: they…apparently really had.
Harry said earnestly, "But you defeated Voldemort with your own hands—"
Ron interrupted with a hiss, "Oh no, don't say the name!"
"Anyway, you're different from the other Slytherins!"
"Well, I'll take that as a compliment. But why do you think Professor Snape is the spy?"
"Because that night, while the other professors were either protecting the students or fighting the intruders, Snape snuck off during the chaos—straight to the room with the three-headed dog. Luckily, he got bitten and failed."
Audrey tapped her chin thoughtfully. "But isn't it also possible that Professor Snape went there to protect the Philosopher's Stone?"
The trio was stunned once more.
"My suggestion is, if you're that worried, you might as well tell Headmaster Dumbledore. I'm sure he'll take care of everything."
As they chatted, they stepped into the Transfiguration classroom.
No sooner had they entered than they heard a group of Slytherins whispering:
"Did you hear? Malfoy's about to be kicked out of his family."
"Malfoy was picked up by his dad from a Muggle trash heap."
"What? You mean Malfoy's not even his parents' real son?"
"His mum and dad had a falling-out."
"Did you know? Malfoy is actually the son of his mum and…"
Malfoy clenched his fists, his expression darkening by the second. Suddenly, he jumped to his feet and shouted, "Shut your mouths!!"
There was a brief silence—then the whispers resumed.
"Tut, lost his temper. Must be true then."
"I always said, even though we Slytherins care about blood purity, there's no need to talk about it nonstop like he does."
"Exactly!"
For the first time, Harry felt a genuine flicker of sympathy for Malfoy. After hesitating a moment, he couldn't help but say, "The image a Boggart turns into is always fake. So whatever it says is fake too."
A few Slytherins immediately shot him disdainful looks.
"Mind your own business!"
"Is the Saviour trying to cosy up to Malfoy now?"
"Ha, wasn't there a rumour just recently that he beat the Dark Lord again?"
Harry opened his mouth to speak but was yanked down into his seat by Ron.
"Let 'em fight like dogs, mate. Why do you care?"
"I just think…no matter what, it's not right to insult someone's family. They're going too far."
Audrey glanced at Malfoy and said coolly, "And how many times has he insulted other people's families without a second thought? Hopefully, this time he learns his lesson."
At that moment, footsteps echoed from the corridor outside. The classroom instantly fell silent. Everyone sat up straight, expecting their Transfiguration teacher, Professor McGonagall.
But to everyone's surprise, it wasn't McGonagall who entered—it was an older student holding a textbook.
Smiling pleasantly, he walked up to the teaching podium and placed the book down.
"Professor McGonagall has been very busy lately, so I'll be covering some of her classes from time to time."
Harry, Hermione, and the others who recognised Edward looked completely stunned. Those who didn't immediately began whispering:
"Who's that?"
"Sixth or seventh year?"
"Is he a prefect?"
Edward raised his wand and wrote a word in the air.
"I'm sure some of you already know me, but today let's all reintroduce ourselves properly. I'm Edward, and I'll be your substitute Transfiguration teacher."
As he said the last sentence, Edward looked directly at Audrey with a smile.
Audrey puffed out her cheeks in annoyance. Just at lunch she had asked Edward why Professor McGonagall was looking for him, and he'd said it was about Lilith.
And now—without a word—he'd turned into a substitute teacher!
Hmph!
Lying Pinocchio!
The students all looked around at each other, bewildered—especially when they heard that this upperclassman was only a third-year. Their astonishment broke into hushed murmurs again.
"To be honest," Edward said, spreading his hands, "I'm not thrilled about Professor McGonagall's decision either."
"You all know—classes are never fun. Whether you're sitting in the seats or standing at the front. Every time I walk into a classroom, I feel sleepy."
He even yawned dramatically as he spoke.
"Must be nice being a teacher—can take points off whenever they feel like it," a student muttered under his breath.
Edward clapped a hand to his forehead. "Thank you for the reminder! I actually forgot to ask Professor McGonagall whether I have the authority to deduct points. Why don't I try it now?"
"How?" the student asked.
Edward extended his hand. "May I ask which House you're in?"
The student shrank back. "...Gryffindor."
"Excellent. One point to Gryffindor."
"…"
The student froze, then blurted, "No! I'm in Slytherin!"
Edward folded his arms. "So you just lied, Mr. Malcolm Baddock of Slytherin?"
The boy flushed crimson. "You…you know me?"
"Of course I do. Before teaching, I made sure to memorise everyone's names, faces, and Houses."
After a short pause, Edward smiled. "So, Malcolm—did you lie just now?"
A chorus of grumbles rose from the Slytherin section.
"…Sorry."
"Mm. Owning up to your mistakes is good. Let's award one point to Slytherin too, then."
The student looked stunned, then pleasantly surprised.
Edward gave a satisfied nod. "Looks like I really do have the authority to give and take points. So—everyone, be careful~ Don't give me an excuse to deduct points. After all, I'm a Hufflepuff. If I dock points from you, it just boosts Hufflepuff's score. Isn't that delightful?"
"…"
"Oh, right."
Edward suddenly thought of something. "Since I've already handed out points, it wouldn't be fair to leave Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff out, would it? Let's give each of them one point too. You can tell your Housemates after class that one point toward the House Cup this year came from you."
A few students chuckled at that.
Edward clapped his hands. "Alright, back to business. According to Professor McGonagall's notes, today's lesson is about transforming a snuffbox into another object of the same size. Doesn't matter what it becomes—as long as it changes, it counts."
"Has anyone already learned how to do this? Raise your hand and tell me."
No one raised their hand.
"Not even you, Miss Granger?"
Hermione's cheeks flushed. She'd been so preoccupied researching Nicolas Flamel that she hadn't had much time to study—especially for something that couldn't be solved by memorisation alone.
Ron muttered under his breath, "I still can't turn a matchstick into a needle properly."
Audrey raised her hand. "Edward…Professor."
"Yes, Miss Audrey Hall?"
"From what I've observed, many students struggle with Transfiguration. Even among the sixth and seventh years, most just barely pass. I'd like to ask—what's the secret to learning Transfiguration well?"
Edward tapped his wand lightly against his forehead and thought for a moment.
"Before I answer that, let me ask all of you a question: what determines whether a spell can be cast successfully—and how powerful it is?"
———
[Note]: 140 Powerstones for an Extra Chapter tomorrow.
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