A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts - Chapter 463: Easter

Felix was intrigued as he pulled out colorful candles from the package and placed them on the cake. Lighting them one by one, when he blew them out, it suddenly dawned on him that he was now 24 years old.

It was the first day of the Easter holiday, and he had no classes, even Valen was still lazing around.

Reviewing his recent schedule, Draco Malfoy was coming over in the afternoon to practice the Disillusionment Charm. He had a basic grasp of the spell, but the fluctuations in magic were too noticeable, easily exposing the flaws at close range. Later in the evening, it was Harry’s turn. His Occlumency had finally started to take shape, with just a few pages left in that magical book.

Tomorrow was Easter, and there was a banquet in the evening. Rumor had it that the other four schools would be performing. He sincerely hoped that the busy goblins he had seen at the Quidditch pitch weren’t preparing for this… The next day, he’d head to the Ministry of Magic to train the Aurors and the hit-wizards, and on the way, he’d deliver the completed magical manuscript to the publisher. Skringle wrote, mentioning a honorary advisor role they intended to bestow upon him. Though indifferent, he politely expressed gratitude in his response.

The bedroom door creaked open, Valen stood yawning at the entrance.

“Chirp chirp…?”

“A familiar smell?” Felix chuckled. “It’s a birthday cake. Let’s start with the fruits and chocolates on top. I only had them when I was at the orphanage…”

“Chirp!”

The next evening, the Hogwarts Great Hall was brightly lit. Many young wizards had gone home for the holidays, but a significant number remained, all eager to witness the legendary and unique performance by the house-elves.

As Felix entered the hall, he saw a huge Easter egg at the center of the room. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was composed of various sweets – fruit preserves, puddings, mint toffees, nut brittle, liqueur chocolates, and soft-centred candies. A group of students gathered around the egg, pointing and discussing.

The heads of the student council had to loudly announce that the egg could only be shared after the banquet.

However, Harry wasn’t particularly interested in the egg. Over the past couple of days, he had consumed an excessive amount of sweets. Besides the birthday cake Professor Snape distributed yesterday afternoon, this morning he received a dragon-sized Easter egg from Mrs. Weasley, filled to the brim with homemade fudge. He felt a bit stuffed, even burping a sugary aftertaste.

He sat with Ron and Hermione, waiting for the banquet to begin.

“I told you that woman wouldn’t stay quiet!” Hermione tossed a newspaper over.

Harry glanced at it. “Doesn’t seem to be anything too outrageous…”

“She’s spreading rumors that I’m practicing a giant’s strength!” Hermione said in frustration. “Do I look like I’m related to giants?”

“What’s that?” Harry asked.

“Giant’s heritage. But the wizarding world has always been skeptical about it. But they have to come up with something, otherwise giants would be just like any other creature,” Fred and George, sitting beside them, chimed in.

Soon, everyone had gathered. Students from the other four schools sat at four long tables. Byles and Jacqueline chose to sit at the Gryffindor table. “What performance are you planning?” Harry asked.

“Oh, that…” Byles seemed uninterested. “You’ll know when it happens. How about your school?”

Harry shook his head; he had no idea either. Neville interjected, “It’s a ghost performance. I overheard Nearly Headless Nick and Friar Fat Friar discussing it. Friar Fat Friar was worried about the shortage of food being distributed…”

Everyone exchanged puzzled looks. “They want to bring ghost food into the hall?” Ron shivered.

“Don’t forget, we have the Room of Requirement now. Maybe the taste of the food will be better there,” Harry reminded him.

“I still can’t forget Nearly Headless Nick’s five-hundredth deathday party,” Ron said gloomily. The ghosts deliberately let everything go moldy to enhance the flavor.

The banquet began. The tables were adorned with various delicacies. Harry’s gaze fell on a salmon, reminding him of the skewers he had seen the kitchen house-elves working on. Regrettably, he hadn’t seen them on the banquet table yet.

At that moment, the lights dimmed.

A group of silver ghosts floated in like waves, forming a queue in the hall. Harry spotted Nearly Headless Nick—holding his head, ensuring it didn’t fall off—performing rehearsed moves with the other ghosts. He seemed ecstatic.

Harry knew Nick had put in a lot of effort to join the Headless Hunt, but due to a congenital condition—his skin was still slightly attached to his neck—he had been ruthlessly rejected, something he had complained about before.

A few minutes later, the ghosts gathered and the students courteously applauded. Suddenly, the ghosts dispersed, flying into the air and showering silver dots.

Harry, alarmed, looked up to see something egg-shaped. He couldn’t resist reaching out, a risky move as his experience told him that touching ghosts would give him an icy plunge feeling.

But the next moment, a wave of happiness washed over him. It felt as if he was back in the Ancient Runes office, flipping through that magical book, stuck on the chapter titled “Happiness” for ages.

“That’s my memory!” a ghost floated excitedly in front of him—it was Nearly Headless Nick.

“Oh, um, it feels great,” Harry sincerely complimented.

“Thank you, I’ve been striving for this opportunity for so long!” Nearly Headless Nick said, excitedly. “I mean, I foresaw this outcome… I was once a courtier to Henry VII and tasted the palace’s cuisine!” His tone turned somber. “Although he did sentence me to death.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Harry could only say. But what he thought was that Henry VII must have been quite poor, not even able to afford a decent axe, as Nearly Headless Nick had mentioned being struck 45 times and still not completely beheaded.

“Want to try it?” Felix asked from the teachers’ seats. “My memory spirit loves doing peculiar things; he complains to me about not being able to get out…”

“Not necessary,” Snape said coldly, pushing away the silver dots enveloping him.

Then, the hall brightened again. A line of small house-elves walked into the center of the hall. Their faces were even stiffer than Snape’s, expressionlessly wielding miniature bows, seemingly ready to shoot arrows from behind at any moment. The hall was silent until they left.

Dumbledore politely clapped, starting a sporadic round of applause. The following acts proceeded more smoothly. Uagadou’s students performed a lively African dance, attracting quite a few male students’ attention towards Nona Leberth’s graceful movements. Students also witnessed Beauxbatons’ sylphs’ choir, and Fleur’s enchanting voice singing a serenade.

“So, Professor Snape’s birthday is on April 15th?” Fred asked, skewering a piece of chicken with his fork.

“Probably,” Harry paused. “I didn

‘t ask specifically, but Professor Snape mentioned that the cake was only opened in the morning, so it’s fresh…”

“Oh.” Fred and George exchanged a knowing look. Fred said seriously, “George, next year is our last year at school.”

“Yeah,” George replied without hesitation. “We should get the presents ready.”

“You planning some birthday prank for the professor?” Hermione asked sharply.

“Don’t say it like that,” Fred didn’t deny it, “just want to leave a good memory behind… I only just realized that our birthdays are all in April—mine, George’s, and Professor Snape’s. It must be a special fate.”

“Yours?”

“April 1st, yeah, April Fools’ Day, but this isn’t a joke.”

>

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