A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 558: Grilled Fish

"It's none of your business," Mafalda retorted, her neck stiff.

"Oh, really," Harry exclaimed indignantly, "Are you planning to make up another story? Harry Potter's secret army? Or Hermione Granger ambitiously recruiting a legion of house-elves, determined to overthrow the Ministry of Magic?"

"Sounds good," Mafalda said, swiftly completing the registration form, "By the way, your outfits are hideous, like two mummies..."

"No need for your input," Ron said angrily. "I warn you, stop meddling in our affairs, and don't you dare fabricate stories about Harry again, or I'll deduct points from you, I mean it! Just because you're a distant relative doesn't mean I'll go easy on you—"

Hermione tugged at Ron's shirt, he stopped uneasily, still grumbling, "I'm doing it for her own good, she's really gone too far..."

At that moment, a mocking voice cut in, "Seems like that surname hasn't earned you much favor, has it? All that effort for nothing."

"What are you trying to say?" Mafalda clenched her fists, glaring at Draco Malfoy.

"Prewett," Draco said softly, his gray eyes fixed on Mafalda's tense body, "You claim to be a distant branch of the Prewett family, but as far as I know, there aren't many branches of the Prewetts, and none of them have children of the right age..."

Mafalda's eyes flinched and her body trembled slightly.

"Malfoy, you haven't changed a bit, always picking on a young girl." Harry couldn't stand by and added, then regretted it instantly. Why did he say that? He disliked both of them equally.

There was a stiffness in Draco's expression. "Just stating the facts."

Mafalda regained her composure, smartly changing the subject. "What about your girlfriend, Malfoy? She can't seem to take her eyes off your pointed chin; goodness, it's been almost five minutes, wouldn't she faint?"

Draco said slowly, "You mean Pansy? She went to fulfill her duties as a prefect."

"I don't think so," Mafalda cunningly remarked, "I just saw her trying to confiscate a student's bottle of butterbeer, and when it fell and exploded on the ground, it set fire to her lovely dress. Oh, what bad luck she has..." With that, she turned and ran off.

Draco squinted, then turned his gaze to Harry. "So, you're becoming famous again, Potter?" He cocked his head slightly, Harry knew that was the direction of the 'Harry Potter Fan Club.'@@@@

"Yeah," Harry said flatly, expecting Malfoy wouldn't miss a chance to mock him. Malfoy had been restless lately; Harry had thought there might be a change.

"Your fame keeps rising, unstoppable. I'm actually quite annoyed by it," Draco remarked.

Ron chuckled.

Draco sized them up. "If I were you, I'd check the family tree to avoid mistaken relatives... if you have such a thing." He walked away.

"What does he mean?" Ron furrowed his brow, staring at Draco's back.

Hermione sighed, casting a careful glance at Neville and Ginny nearby, keeping her voice from carrying.

"You don't think Mafalda's really a 'Prewett,' do you?"

"Why not—" Ron started, then widened his eyes.

Harry's mind raced; Mafalda's father was a distant cousin of Mrs. Weasley, who was a Prewett before marriage. This meant... He quickly found the template for comparison—Dudley and himself. They were cousins, but one was a Dursley and the other a Potter. If Dudley had children, they'd be Dursleys, not Potters... RàNꝋβΕṧ

He remembered Mafalda mentioning her father was a squib, looked down upon in the wizarding world. Harry almost instantly inferred that Mafalda's father faced discrimination in his youth and didn't want his daughter to suffer the same fate. Harry believed, as a father himself, he'd do something about it. What? Change a surname— a revered one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood families.

Harry's disgust for Mafalda instantly lessened, replaced by sympathy.

Ron's reaction was slower, but he too thought of what Harry had just realized. He opened his mouth but didn't speak. The three of them tacitly avoided discussing the topic further. Yet, in that moment, Harry felt the pure-blood mentality was utterly foolish.

Harry remembered Nearly Headless Nick's words.

Professor Snape never discussed his background, yet that didn't stop him from being a banner of Slytherin house, liked by students from other houses. Harry wondered if it was because Snape assigned less homework...

"I say, stop overthinking, take off your ridiculous hats, and come help," Hermione interjected with a scolding tone, hands on hips.

Reluctantly, Harry and Ron revealed their faces. Ron didn't want people to see his name printed under 'Vomit,' while Harry just wanted to stay away from the Creevey brothers. He glanced back; the 'Harry Potter Fan Club' had vanished, leaving behind an empty brown cloth.

Couldn't recruit anyone? Harry wondered hopefully. Ginny walked over quietly. "They're done with their gifts."

"What?" Harry asked in astonishment.

"Gifts," Ginny said calmly, "Just become a club member, and you get a whole set of your photos for free. I think they're quite well-taken."

"An animated film? Is it for children?" Hagrid asked with a rumble in his voice.

The student swallowed, "It's for adults too, I find it quite intriguing."

"Well then—uh," Hagrid waved his arms, "where can I see it? Do I need a magical projector?"

"'Future World' company has it, Professor Harp has also screened movies in class before," the student replied softly.

"Sounds good," muttered Hagrid, "If I want to show it to creatures much bigger than me—uh—any suggestions?"

"Oh, I think..." the student trembled, looking extremely frightened, "Our club didn't consider recruiting members of such a large size..."

"Hello, Hagrid," Felix couldn't resist interjecting.

Hagrid turned around, delighted, "Brilliant! Felix, I've just had a great idea, if we could show little Grawp—" His face suddenly reddened, his woolly hat and beard failing to conceal it, "Ahem, I mean, if we showed it to the big one in the Forbidden Forest, it'd surely work wonders, at least calm him down a bit..." he muttered.

"You could write to Limes and inquire; I recall the company is testing new products and needs extensive feedback," Felix suggested.

Hagrid happily departed.

As soon as Hagrid left, Professor Burbage approached.

She pulled out a bulging envelope, exasperatedly saying, "Professor Harp, pass this to that big talker for me; I'll make sure he confesses his mistake willingly!"

Felix blinked, "Caridy, some of what he says does make sense."

"But he's too arrogant," grumbled Professor Burbage, "as if I'm a child who knows nothing. Listen, 'Only fools abandon their wizarding identity,' 'If technology can't be used by wizards, it's only a threat,' Professor Harp, who is your pen pal? I really want to have a proper conversation with him!"

Snape, who was passing by, froze. He silently halted his steps, turning his head to gaze at the stall in front of him; it was a wooden frame cushioned and displaying roasted fish, with the fish's eyes seemingly locking onto his.

"Want a skewer, Professor Snape?" a young girl asked, gathering courage.

Snape diverted his gaze from the dead fish's eyes, staring at Eleanor Branstone's face, and said coldly, "Not necessary, Miss Branstone."

On the other side, Felix was patiently explaining to Professor Burbage why his pen pal was reluctant to meet: "Caridy, you should know, some people in reality are reclusive, inarticulate, extremely averse to dealing with others..."

Professor Burbage wore a skeptical expression, "Really? His language in the letters seemed quite sharp."

"Some people prefer communicating through words, thinking more meticulously," Felix shrugged.

Eleanor Branstone couldn't help but curiously observe the statue-like Snape and wondered if Professor Snape had an unyielding demeanor. She pulled out a small jar, conjuring a bluebell-like flame with her wand, the flame twirled around the roasted fish, filling the air with a delightful aroma.

Snape's nose twitched slightly.

Eleanor Branstone looked at him encouragingly, seemingly waiting for him to speak. However, Snape, with a stern face, took two steps back, revealing Valen, who had been lured by the scent.

"Valen, you came over here?" After Felix finished conversing with Professor Burbage, he turned to follow Valen to the stall. He eyed the fish and mused, "Looks perfectly cooked; do I need to sign up for this?"

"You can also help distribute flyers," Eleanor cautiously pointed to a few students not far away, from different houses but with one common feature: one hand holding fish, the other holding flyers.

"Sounds fair," Felix hesitated, "Should I share the recipe? I know a secret sauce that's quite... savory?" He exclaimed in surprise, "Severus?"

Snape stared blankly at him.

"Of course, I heard you're the creator of the 'Fishbone Curse'—" Eleanor began.

"Stop, don't say it," Felix said with a serious face, taking out a parchment from his ring, "Deal to exchange fish for the recipe?"

Eleanor Branstone blinked, "Deal." Handing him two skewers of roasted fish, she said, "The extra ones are for you, Professor. You can give them to whoever you like."

"Oh, thank you." Felix took them, took a bite from one of the skewers, then turned to Snape with a grin, "Want to try? I can guarantee it tastes amazing."

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