A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 401: Celebration

Felix emerged from the makeshift tent, his gaze skimming past the crude columns of the stands, spotting several figures bustling about, among them, the unmistakable figure of Hagrid.

He approached, watching the burly Hagrid wrestle with a tangled mass of iron chains. With a resounding "thud," they crashed onto the ground near the Swedish Short-Snout. Charlie raised his wand, lifting one end of the chain, and it slithered toward the side of the dragon—still unconscious, sporadically spewing sparks from its nostrils—*snap!* The chain clamped around its ankle.

"Done," Charlie wiped sweat, "Hagrid, you might want to step back a bit…"

"It's sound asleep," Hagrid said, blissfully stroking the spikes atop the blue dragon's head.

"Felix," Charlie greeted, approaching with a hint of resignation in his expression as he looked at Hagrid, "It's not for the celebration tonight… Mum arranged a task for me, making sure Ron and the others are emotionally unharmed."

"Mrs. Weasley's concerned?"

"Well, she's in quite a state," he mimicked his mother's anxious tone, "How could they join the tournament? They're too young! Little Ronnie was bawling when he got bitten by the garden gnome…"

The next moment, his face turned serious, "We dare not tell her the truth. Luckily, the papers didn't give much away. She's torn through them for gossip—Dad's relieved her attention's diverted, discussing if Krum might've fiddled with his age… jokingly."

Felix chuckled silently, picturing Mrs. Weasley, fretting and anxious.

"She doesn't seem too familiar with dragons."

He approached the Hungarian Horntail nearby, it awkwardly inclined, lowering its massive, menacing head. Without its brashness from the arena, even its yellow eyes seemed more agreeable.

"Don't breathe in my direction," Felix muttered, tapping the spikes on its head, "Didn't expect you're a mother dragon, didn't recognize the egg you were guarding wasn't yours?"

The Hungarian Horntail panted, stirring dust with its breath, glancing disdainfully at the nearby staff.

"Oh, it seems not only did they snatch your egg, they also cast a confusion spell on you… dreadful," he said, inspecting a shiny black scale near the dragon's neck.

Once, he transferred the Ministry's secrecy charm onto it. Now, with the tournament over, the contract's effect had faded.

"We didn't steal its offspring," Charlie remarked, from his angle, Felix appeared half-eaten by the dragon, prompting a smirk, "Impressive camaraderie."

"Off to the castle?" Felix inquired before departing.

"After I'm done here. Got to visit the owlery first, write to Mum, tell her everything about today," his face suddenly grimaced, "Well, not 'everything,' definitely not its height."

He gestured toward the massive Hungarian Horntail, which disdainfully glanced at him.

Felix and the reluctant Hagrid made their way back. Hagrid paced like a boat, his big feet slower than Felix's.

"How're the Blast-Ended Skrewts?" he asked.

"Doing alright, lost a few, too much lettuce…" Hagrid absentmindedly said, turning abruptly upon hearing the dragons' roars.

"Do they hibernate?"

"Oh, um… hibernate?" Hagrid snapped out of it, puzzled, "That's a question, never thought about it… While the Sphinxes don't, the Fire Crabs do. You've got a point, I should prepare early."

Felix nodded, not particularly concerned about the Skrewts but wanting to divert Hagrid's attention.

The Skrewts were bred from a combination of two magical creatures, quite a few of these in the wizarding world, but few managed to exist stably. Most magical creatures born from wizard intervention tend to be lost in the sands of time, only remnants recorded in ancient magical scrolls.

The two parted near Hagrid's hut.

Entering the castle, the Great Hall was in a frenzy, students from all four houses reveling as if it were a festival. They sang joyfully, amidst the crackling sound of exploding crackers, creating an image of 'medieval wizards battling dragons' in motion.

Loud cheers erupted from the crowd.

The champions were encircled by students, looking somewhat uncomfortable. Cedric smiled shyly, Roger Davies held a goblet, chatting with the quiet Colin Creevey, occasionally adjusting his elegant hair. Not far from them, Harry and Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table, hungrily devouring food—they were famished, listening to Ron, who sat with a strawberry tart, vividly narrating.

Felix estimated the time; it wasn't mealtime, so the students must have raided Hogwarts' kitchens.

The Weasley twins stood with their friend Lee Jordan. Fred kept fidgeting while George desperately held him back, "Think, we'll become school enemies."

Lee winked at him, indicating Professor Snape behind.

Fred turned, grinning, "Alright." Reluctantly abandoning an incredibly tempting idea, he pocketed the dungbomb he held. Then, like a magic trick, he produced a bag of egg biscuits, "How about trying this? We've got to liven things up; Zonko's fireworks are too dull."

"Want to taste it, Professor?" Felix picked up a biscuit, examining it. A beautiful canary shot out from the biscuit, circling them thrice before disappearing.

"Is it odd because of the magic?" he asked, smiling knowingly.

The twins shrunk their necks, dragging Jordan, who attempted to explain, as they swiftly slipped away. They maneuvered through the crowd, setting traps and slipped into Harry's group, handing Ron a biscuit while he was engrossed in his storytelling.

"Oh, thanks—" Ron received the biscuit absentmindedly, taking a bite, "Where was I? The Hungarian Horntail spewing fire—Harry and Hermione were wrestling with it, quite perilous. I thought to myself, I must do something, so I calmly cast a powerful spell—"

"You mean the Luminous Charm?" Fred beamed, "I'd say at least twenty in the school know that spell."

"It's different!" Ron argued, "Chanting the spell comfortably on a cushion and being under a dragon's eyelids are worlds apart. I mean—at least sixty feet!"

At that moment, he turned into a gigantic canary, perched on the Gryffindor table, startling everyone.

"It's Canary Creams…" Hermione glanced, quickly explaining.

After half a minute, Ron started molting, feathers flying, his red face stammering, "You two… beware of my hex…"

"Oh, facing a dragon does wonders; now you've the courage to spout threats… Well then, continue your tale of you and the dragon, sir hero? We're all ears." Fred bowed, politely.

"Of course! I'm not just talk." Ron perked up.

Felix remained in a corner. He hesitated, contemplating whether to intervene—there were too many people; almost the entire student body was there. Professor Flitwick, nearby, understandingly said, "Let the students celebrate freely; I'll remind

them to clean up."

Felix strolled up to Snape. His expression mirrored the polished armor nearby, starkly contrasting the festive atmosphere.

"They're performing well, aren't they? Slytherin's students are also among them."

"Would you like me to write a commendation letter, Felix?" Snape said, tucking his arm into his black cloak.

Felix muttered something that sounded like, "Hopefully."

"I heard Moody turned your office upside down?"

"The power the Headmaster bestowed," Snape murmured, watching as 'canaries' suddenly appeared in the hall, his expression filled with distaste, "You cannot avoid it either. Best keep those unsightly things… Moody's good at more than just surveillance; his nose is quite sharp."

"Oh, I will," Felix said, his smile radiant.

>

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