A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts - Chapter 413: The Film

The impact of the Christmas ball was greater than Felix had imagined, reaching even him.

As he had his breakfast, he noticed a fiery gaze directed his way. Looking up, he found the valiant warrior from Valgadu, the witch known as Nona Leberth, quite interested in him. However, once Felix gently fed Valen a slice of strawberry cake, that intense look vanished.

The corridors buzzed with groups of chattering girls roaming about. Whenever a decent lad passed by, they held their breath, gazing at him expectantly.

Of course, they might have gotten it wrong. Gathering in such numbers wasn’t the way to go. While companions might boost one’s courage, it also diminished the confidence of the other side. Felix had seen eager wizards falter in front of a group of girls more than once.

“Quite interesting,” he thought.

At the Magic Language Club, Felix lounged on a sofa, surrounded by club members gathered around him in groups of threes and twos.

“Today marks the last activity of this semester. The next gathering won’t be until after Christmas. Keep an eye on your Serpent Rings for the specific timing… Back to business, my demands aren’t high. Following the progress from the last activity, deepen your control over magic.”

Felix waved his arm, and from the corner of the room flew a metal cage covered in dark canvas, emitting an annoying buzzing sound.

All the students pursed their lips, casting complex gazes at the cage, knowing what lay inside.

“Oh, right, the usual rule—if stung, potions are on the table.” Felix said, and from his ring flew seven or eight bottles of bright blue potion, landing on the small round table in the room.

The club members skillfully put on thick leather gloves, lining up to approach the cage. With resigned determination, they extended their hands inside. Accompanied by a teeth-gritting “chirp-squeak,” Draco Malfoy pulled out a half-inch long blue beetle from the cage.

“I loathe Billywig beetles,” he muttered softly. Taking advantage of still wearing gloves, he flicked it a few times. The Billywig’s body, shining like jade, wriggled continuously, its slender sting poking at the glove.

“Perhaps I should remove your sting, so you won’t sting me anymore,” Draco threatened in a low voice, “or perhaps drop it into someone’s collar.”

Harry immediately turned to him, alert, as Draco smirked silently.

After a while, everyone had their Billywig beetle. Harry stared at his, feeling it was livelier than the others until he noticed Ron quietly casting a “Solidus Totalus.”

You can still do that? Harry widened his eyes, contemplating mimicking Ron. But the next second, the spell was undone. “I’m watching, Weasley,” the professor’s voice leisurely reached their ears.

Several students, who had prepared in advance, revealed expressions of regret. Fred and George pocketed a tiny pair of tweezers.

Hermione snorted disapprovingly at their crafty methods, sitting beside Ginny and Luna—Luna was a third-year this year, having submitted her application during the first month of school and passing the assessment smoothly.

Five more members joined after her.

Hermione quietly demonstrated to Ginny and Luna, her fingertips radiating a light blue magic, encasing the Billywig beetle in what looked like a glowing, cocoon-like structure, restricting it within a small space.

“See, use magic to wrap it first, then take off the gloves; two hands are more convenient… Oh, Ginny, I need your help.”

Ginny assisted her in removing the gloves, and then Hermione’s two hands swirled in the air.

The Billywig’s wings were on either side of its head, fluttering at a tremendous speed, but at this moment, it was futilely trapped within the designated space.

“Just like this, then gradually expand the control range. You have to make sure you can do this.”

Hermione said to Ginny and Luna, facing the Gringlegrass sisters seated opposite her, who were staring wide-eyed at her, in the same posture—hand gloved, gripping the Billywig beetle, eyes intense, mouths puffed.

On the other side, Harry awkwardly handled his own beetle. He wasn’t as adept at controlling magic as Hermione. According to the professor, she had already reached the second stage, being able to control a Billywig beetle within a foot’s range at will. As for himself and most of the club members, they had to firmly lock it in with magic, for a slight slip would make it swiftly fly away.

What followed was a nightmare… Harry didn’t want to recall what happened at the last meeting. Truth be told, he did fairly well, but when danger loomed all around, avoiding being stung wasn’t solely up to him.

From his observations, it seemed like the club members from Gryffindor had lost interest in “Fizzing Whizbees” after the unfortunate stinging experiences.

Harry cautiously and singularly focused on manipulating magic. He felt he was in good shape today, so he tentatively relaxed his control, expanding the magical net around the Billywig beetle. The insect flapped its wings, startling him. Hastily retracting his magic, the beetle’s legs immediately straightened.

Still alive. That was his repeated confirmation. Harry nervously glanced around, relieved to see Draco’s beetle’s wings looking crumpled. Prompted by Professor Snape’s reminder, Draco had to recite a healing charm on it.

Time flew swiftly, unaffected even by Draco and Ron’s cries of pain.

As the meeting neared its end, Harry successfully widened the range of activity for the Billywig beetle. He watched it flap its wings but couldn’t fly beyond half a foot, nodding in satisfaction.

Others in the class also made progress.

Harry discovered a secret. Professor Snape always explained the benefits of what he made them do before having them do it. In the recent club activities, everyone had been moved by his description of “spell-casting without wands, controlling magic at will, learning spells in a blink.”

Especially when they witnessed Professor Snape sitting on the sofa, yet effortlessly controlling any rapidly flying Billywig beetle in the room, they couldn’t help but believe the truth behind his words.

After the gathering ended, the young wizards streamed out.

Hermione stayed behind to help tidy up the leftover bottles and jars. “Oh, it looks a bit pitiful…” she said to a wingless Billywig beetle.

“This is the most suitable teaching aid I could find, Miss Granger, and they are themselves magical ingredients… I heard you’re still involved in the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare?”

Hermione nodded. She hesitated for a moment, sounding perplexed. “I’m not sure if I should continue. House-elves seem not to need my help, and Harry and Ron aren’t interested…”

Felix understood.

“I know you can’t stand the way wizards treat house-elves, thinking they’re being mistreated. That’s why I suggested you investigate thoroughly. Now it seems to have worked—previously, you only vaguely saw the unfair treatment they faced overall and projected those feelings onto every individual house-elf, naturally hitting a dead-end.

There’s a saying that one must experience it firsthand to understand, Miss Granger. You must first realize you’re

dealing with a race, a group, and the demands of different individuals in the group often vary vastly.

You must first identify who is your obstacle.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Are you implying… pure-bloods?”

Felix chuckled lightly. “I said nothing, Miss Granger. I’ve read your report, quite detailed, even mentioning the Elf from Ilvermorny… You know it yourself, the house-elves at Hogwarts live quite well. Those tragic experiences often come from certain special groups, and with your current influence, forgive me for being blunt, there’s only so much you can do.”

“But,” Hermione pondered slowly, her thoughts clearing, “I know what to do. I want—”

“No, don’t say it aloud. Once spoken, it loses its power. Keep it in your heart, remind yourself constantly. That’s the only way to drive yourself forward,” Felix winked at her.

“Oh, Professor…”

Hermione smiled. She seemed to have solved a long-standing problem, feeling lighter. But she also felt more determined.

“Has the secret of the second project been unlocked?”

“Not yet,” Hermione shook her head, “I’ve actually devised a method to decode the golden egg, but I’m afraid I might damage it, so I’m planning to wait a while longer.”

Felix nodded slightly.

“By the way, Professor, will you attend the ball?” Hermione asked.

“I might show up, have a bite to eat or something,” Felix said uncertainly, directing the cage to a corner, “I’m not really good at dancing.”

“They say there’s a new song from the Eccentric Sisters at the ball! Wouldn’t you want to try it?”

“I know, I listened to it beforehand. Need me to get you an album?”

“Uh… no need,” Hermione said disappointedly.

…

“W.W.N？”Harry asked, utterly bewildered.

“It’s the Wizarding Wireless Network. You’ve heard of magical radios, right?” Simon glanced at Harry uncertainly, nodding as Harry confirmed. Simon continued, “That’s it. It’s similar to Muggle radios, but if you listen for a while, you’ll notice the songs are always nostalgic…”

“New songs are hard to come by,” he concluded wistfully. Everyone stared at him, and he chuckled, explaining, “That’s what my mum says.”

“Yeah, after years, the eccentric sister duo finally released a new song… I bet Mum’s over the moon,” Ron affirmed confidently.

As the final week of the term approached, the school buzzed with excitement.

Almost all the young wizards were focused on the upcoming Christmas dance. With students being distracted, Felix decided to skip class altogether, focusing on Ancient Runes as the progress in that subject outpaced others, especially for the fifth and seventh years, who had already started revising.

He moved his mini projector to the Ancient Runes classroom and screened movies for the students.

“Professor Harp, I heard from students in other years… We don’t want to see dinosaurs or lonely boys pranking dim-witted thieves. Any romantic films?” The brave Raven Turpin inquired.

“Romantic?” Felix echoed. Seeing all the girls muster up courage and look at him, Simon wanted to say he’d rather see how Muggles imagined dragons, but Pettier glared at him, forcing him to stay silent.

“Alright,” Felix agreed, sifting through his ring, “there’s one that might suit your needs, probably…”

Thick curtains were drawn in the classroom, dimming the lights, and with the whir of the machine, the movie began.

It was an animated film, starting with a beautiful natural landscape, lush greens, red flowers, waterfalls, nestled in the depths of a forest, stood a beautiful castle. Students who saw it for the first time began chattering—

“Animated comic strips? I love the new set by L.C.A. Have any of you seen it?”

“I think this might be a Muggle movie; the Professor mentioned it before.”

“Huh? How do they make the images move? Anyone attend Professor Bubaji’s class?”

“Oh, don’t mention that, I don’t want to discuss disgusting flies and peas… Honestly, I think her research has gone astray; I definitely won’t be taking that next year.”

As the movie narration began, they gradually quieted down, drawn into the captivating story.

“Once upon a time, in a distant and magnificent castle, lived a young prince—”

“Wow, a prince!” a witch exclaimed.

“Shut it, Raven.”

“—He had everything his heart desired, but this prince was spoiled, selfish, and heartless. On a cold winter night, an old and ugly lady arrived at the castle, seeking shelter in exchange for a single rose… But the callous prince, not wanting to tarnish his beautiful castle, disregarded her. The old lady warned the prince not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty lies within.

But the prince remained unmoved…

…

Thus, the witch transformed the prince into a terrifying beast, and the rose she offered was enchanted too. If he could learn to love and be loved in return before the last petal fell, the curse would be lifted. Otherwise, he would remain a beast forever…

The prince fell into deep despair. Who could ever love a beast?”

The students watched in bewilderment; what a powerful wizard to possess such dreadful magic.

However, they realized it was not a true event but a creation of imagination, albeit by Muggles who lacked some common sense…

As the story unfolded, they became completely engrossed in the movie’s plot, even the boys who were previously adamant about wanting to see dinosaurs found themselves worrying about the characters in the film.

“That ‘Gaston’ guy is so mean!”

“It’d be great if a Dark wizard passed by now—”

“What’s going on in your head?”

“Belle is truly kind…”

As the movie reached a magnificent ballroom scene, the students were left wanting more. Felix smiled at them and said, “Alright, this class went a bit over time. You’d better hurry to the Great Hall for dinner.”

The students poured out, excitedly discussing the plot in the corridors.

The boys leaned more toward discussing whether the magic in the story could be real. “I don’t think turning people into teacups would let them speak or move afterward. That’s illogical!” Ron remarked.

“Hey mate, maybe the professors can do it?” Simon argued.

“It’s just a movie,” Dean, who grew up in a Muggle household, remarked, understanding the intended message of the animated film.

“No, it violates Transfiguration rules,” Ron blushed, stumbled for a while, finding it hard to recall the corresponding knowledge, and then looked at Harry, “What do you say, Hermione?”

“I’m busy!” Hermione replied. She hadn’t walked with Harry and the boys but accompanied the girls toward the Great Hall, discussing rapidly.

“What’s gotten into her?” Ron asked, confused.

Harry shrugged. “Maybe she really likes this movie.”

“Do you also think the magic in the movie isn’t possible?” Ron asked Harry.

Thinking of the Sneezing Snuffbox teacups at Zonko’s and the magical puppets rehearsing in Classroom Seven, Harry was a bit uncertain. But to cater to Ron’s emotions, he reluctantly nodded.

In the evening, they returned from the library to the common room—much earlier than usual. However, to celebrate finishing the first book on Alchemy, Ron and Harry engaged in a thrilling game of Wizard’s Chess. Ron, using two formidable pawns, cornered Harry, who had his white king’s crown ready to throw off.

“Your chess skills are declining,” Ron commented.

Harry didn’t respond, intensely focused on the board, hoping for a miracle. And a miracle did happen because the sound of Ron’s chess piece getting a checkmate was too loud, and they were both kicked out by Madam Pince, the librarian.

…

Opening the common room door, they found even Fat Lady had undergone a change with Christmas nearing. “Want to dance, brave lads?” she asked tipsily, holding a box of chocolates.

“I could recommend you a dance partner,” Ron muttered. Once inside, he whispered, “His name’s Barnabas, a ballet instructor.”

>

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