The morning of July 21st, at ten o’clock.
Felix who was dressed formally, stood in the fireplace and sprinkled a handful of Floo Powder and confidently said, “Hogwarts Deputy Headmaster’s Office.” Suddenly, a green flame burst up, and Felix disappeared.
Inside the Hogwarts Deputy Headmaster’s Office, Professor McGonagall was solemnly organizing school documents.
The Transfiguration professor, known for her stern demeanor, always had an impassive expression. But at this moment, her mood was quite good. Gryffindor House had won the long-awaited House Cup in the previous school year, keeping the joyful spirit of the Gryffindor House Head intact.
“Puff!”
Suddenly, a burst of emerald green flames appeared in the fireplace, and a polite young man stepped out.
Felix glanced around, everything was just as he remembered! He greeted McGonagall with a gentle smile, “Hello, Professor McGonagall, it’s been a while.”
McGonagall pursed her lips, signaling that she was quickly transitioning into work mode and her mood was getting worse. She replied, “Indeed, it has been a while, Felix.”
McGonagall had also taught him, she was one of his professors. Her feelings towards this famous student were complicated, but certainly not the kind of complexity Professor Snape had.
Before Gryffindor’s long-awaited House Cup victory, they had suffered seven consecutive losses, and Felix played a significant role in those experiences.
Apart from the first three years, Felix had endured an extremely hostile learning environment, which forced him to fight back and consequently lose points. In the following years, after forcibly assimilating with the Slytherins, he seemed to finally realize that he was a Slytherin student and should fight for the honor of the house.
For the next few years, there was one phrase that summarized it all: “Glory belongs to Slytherin.”
——
Felix stepped forward, checking his pocket watch. “I hope I haven’t missed the interview.”
Professor McGonagall was interrupted from her reminiscence and stood up, leading him to the Headmaster’s office. “Chocolate Frog,” she pronounced the password, granting Felix entry. Before he left, she spoke, “Your books are impressive. It seems you’ve had a fulfilling three years.”
“Thank you, Professor McGonagall.” He hesitated for a moment, then smiled and ascended the steps.
He hadn’t wasted his three years since graduation. Especially after his first failed job application, he pondered over it repeatedly, suspecting that his student life had been too intense. So, he took Albus Dumbledore’s advice to heart, “Explore and observe more.”
He spent a year wandering the wizarding world, with the remaining two years in the Muggle world, uh, studying Muggles.
The results were significant. Three years yielded three books, two on Muggle studies, and one on ancient magical Runes.
He had also accumulated a considerable fortune.
Walking up the long staircase, Felix entered the Headmaster’s office, filled with various books and alchemical artifacts, with portraits of past Hogwarts Headmasters on the walls.
On one side of the Headmaster’s desk, a phoenix rested with closed eyes.
Dumbledore was engrossed in studying something, and the whole office was quiet.
“Headmaster Dumbledore, good morning,” Felix greeted aloud. As he spoke, the room suddenly came alive.
The portraits of the Headmasters opened their eyes, observing Felix and whispering among themselves.
One particular portrait was excessively dramatic, “Ha! The most outstanding Slytherin has arrived!”
The man in the portrait had a goatee, thin eyebrows, and was wearing a Slytherin robe. He was Phineas Black, considered the most unpopular Hogwarts Headmaster by students, also hailing from Slytherin.
Felix gracefully performed a bow.
At that moment, Headmaster Dumbledore finally looked up. He had a distinctive appearance, with his silver-white beard flowing down to his chest. His robes were slightly disheveled, and he wore a pair of half-moon spectacles.
But none of these characteristics could match the brilliance of his eyes. His eyes were extraordinarily bright, with deep, sparkling sapphire irises.
Felix was slightly dazed. Time hadn’t left many marks on this Headmaster, yet it seemed to have left too many.
“Ah, ah! Felix, it’s you,” Dumbledore stood up and walked briskly towards him, his movements agile. “I’ve been waiting for your arrival.”
Felix shook hands with the Headmaster, feeling a bit awkward. After all, it was a job application, and he had been rejected three times before.
The two of them settled into their chairs, Dumbledore’s gaze peering through his thin spectacles as he waved his wand. “Would you like something to drink? Pumpkin juice? Tea?” He blinked and added, “I also have a fresh butterbeer.”
“A cup of tea, thank you.”
Dumbledore waved his wand lightly, and a steaming cup of tea floated in front of Felix. He took a sip, tasting a bitter flavor of aged tea. It seemed that the Headmaster didn’t often indulge in tea.
“Severus sent me this tea. Although I personally can’t discern its quality, he claims it comes from a distant eastern land.”
Charlatans!
Felix thought inwardly, at least one of you must be a charlatan.
After drinking the tea, they delved into the main conversation.
“Felix, you’ve done remarkably well in these years. I’ve been reading your works, and I must say, your insights into Muggle studies are intriguing and profound… They have sparked many ideas in this old man’s mind.”
Felix smiled. “Thanks to your advice, the Muggle world is fascinating, especially in recent decades where their progress has been rapid. As for my works… perhaps it’s because I have a Muggle background, which gives me a better understanding of them.”
Dumbledore shook his head. “Your background does not diminish your efforts. Many in the wizarding world come from Muggle origins, yet they cannot be considered proficient in Muggle studies. At best, they have a deeper knowledge of certain commonalities, but that falls far short of true understanding.”
Of course, because in my past life, I was a pure-blood Muggle.
Dumbledore waved his wand, and a book flew from the desk. Its title was “The Struggles of Muggles” one of Felix’s works. He realized that Dumbledore had been reading his book all along.
“This book has been enlightening to me. I’ve read it more than once, especially your perspective on Muggles through the lens of technological history—am I using the term correctly? It’s remarkable how you trace their evolution from primitive creatures over millions of years to their current state. It truly is a marvel.”
“You also pointed out that Muggles experience rapid leaps in their technological advancement at regular intervals, with the gaps between these leaps shrinking. You even predict that the next leap is not far off—a truly inspiring insight!” Dumbledore praised his book wholeheartedly.
Felix humbly replied, “This line of thinking is not something I conceived. In fact, many Muggle sociologists, or rather, Muggle scholars studying Muggles, have contributed greatly to my understanding through their works.”
Dumbledore calmly responded, “Many Muggles possess wisdom as well, but in the wizarding world, few acknowledge this fact.”
“I agree with your words, Professor Dumbledore.”
Dumbledore blinked, seemingly skipping over the previous topic, and playfully said, “So, you must have read numerous Muggle works? Honestly, most of my Christmas gifts are books. It seems they believe I prefer books. But truth be told, I prefer a good pair of woollen socks.”
“Of course, if it’s a book from the Muggle world, I don’t think I would refuse.”
A glaring hint…
At least he knows what to give for Christmas presents…
“Yes, although they lack magic, some individuals among them are willing to spend over a decade writing a book solely dedicated to exploring a single problem or theory,” Felix whispered softly. “It’s arduous. And because of that, it’s precious.”
Dumbledore felt a sense of gratification. “It seems you have truly gained a great deal in these past years.” Then he abruptly posed a question, “So why are you so determined to teach at Hogwarts?”
