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Chapter 161: As Long as Nothing Lands on the Minister's Head, It's a Success
William had experienced visits from leaders of the Wizarding World before—the best meal he ever had in Azkaban was during one such occasion.
But this time was different from the last.
Last time, he was in prison, simply waiting obediently for the Hit-Wizards to distribute various benefits. This time was much more arduous—he had to work.
“Professor William, Professor Adams, Professor Singid, you three are the youngest professors. Please be responsible for keeping an eye on the students and preventing any radical behavior,” Professor McGonagall instructed them solemnly.
“Huh? Professor McGonagall, isn't Professor Lockhart coming?” Adams asked, a look of confusion on his face.
“No, he's in charge of receiving the Minister and his party,” Professor McGonagall said, pointing to the Great Hall doorway. “He volunteered for the job, which solved a big problem for us. By the way—Professor William, would you like to do the welcoming?”
“No, thank you, Professor. I think staying with Adams and the others is just fine,” William replied earnestly.
Come to think of it, William had more or less been sent to Azkaban by that very Minister. Although there was no direct connection, because of this, William really didn't have a favorable impression of the Minister for Magic.
“Very well then. However, I do think it's beneficial for young professors to interact more with such important figures—” Professor McGonagall nodded. “But with Professor Lockhart there, it’s also quite good.”
Why do your words carry a hint of coercion? Is it just my imagination, Headmaster?
“Yes, Professor Lockhart is good at that sort of thing. It's a virtue to let those who are skilled do what they do best, Professor.”
“Alright,” Professor McGonagall nodded. “Let's leave it at that for now. I'm going to give instructions to the kitchen.”
Professor McGonagall left quickly. From her current demeanor, you couldn't tell at all that she had spent half the morning cornering Dumbledore in a fit of anger.
Once Professor McGonagall was a good distance away, Adams sidled up. “That was a close one, William—good thing you reacted quickly. Otherwise, you’d never be able to get out of it in the future.”
“Get out of it?”
“Of course. Welcome the Minister for Magic once, and you'll have to do it a second time. No one wants that job. Managing students is so much easier. Just thinking about having to stay with the Minister is exhausting.”
Adams said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
The Ministry of Magic has that little prestige?
“Isn't anyone thinking of getting close to the Minister for a promotion?”
“Get close to the Minister for a promotion? Do you mean within the Ministry of Magic? Anyone who wants to take that path wouldn't even be able to become a professor. How could someone who doesn't like teaching students possibly become a professor?”
Adams was even more surprised than William. “How could Dumbledore possibly allow someone like that to become a professor?”
Alright, Hogwarts is incredible. I get it.
William shrugged his shoulders in acknowledgment.
“Haha, let's get to work, William. We have to watch out for troublemakers. You should know, the students at this school are a restless bunch, especially the Gryffindors—”
Adams drew his wand and with a gentle flick, a brilliant firework immediately bloomed in the air. “Setting off a firework at an event like this is the dream of who knows how many little troublemakers. If we don't stop them, heavens knows what those kids will get up to.”
So, the reason Professor McGonagall didn't spell it out is because the culprits are always from her own House?
As if sensing William's thoughts, Adams wagged his finger. “Don't think it's just Gryffindor. They aren't the only ones who cause trouble. Too many kids their age are desperate to make a name for themselves. We have to be careful. At the very least, we can't let any old rubbish land on the Minister for Magic's head.”
...
Just how hard are the students to manage to have this kind of mindset?
As long as nothing lands on the Minister's head, it counts as a success?
Adams wasn't even finished speaking when Singeade took out a small lighter and began striking the flint over and over.
To the rhythmic *click-clack* of the striking flint, he spoke in a gratified voice:
“It's much better with you here this year. I remember Adams and I had our funds docked before—Professor McGonagall didn't approve my experiments for two months straight!”
That must have been truly painful—alchemy is basically useless without experiments. It's a trade that just burns through money.
“What did you do to make Professor McGonagall that angry?”
“It wasn't what I did, but what I failed to stop. The Ministry of Magic was in the middle of changing leadership back then. A few of the upperclassmen were part of the opposition, and they threw Dungbombs during the inaugural speech…”
“Wait, you couldn't stop them from throwing something all the way from the floor to the stage?”
William was astonished. Forget Singeade, even any random upperclassman could have drawn their wand and stopped it, right?
“Nope. The kid was smart. He threw it on the ground at his own feet—” Singeade shook his head. “He even got himself covered in it!”
...
What a hardcore kid.
“Wait, there are students with that much nerve?”
“What do you think? William, they're capable of causing all sorts of trouble right in front of Dumbledore, let alone the Minister for Magic.”
...
The Minister for Magic must have had a rough time over the years. If even the professors think this way, how many students, after graduation, would feel that the Ministry of Magic's authority is greater than Dumbledore's?
“See? Right? It’s not that I didn't put in the effort. It’s just... how was I supposed to intercept that? Who would have thought the kid would be so ruthless? The Great Hall was uninhabitable afterward!”
Singeade shook his head and tossed the lighter over. “Flick it a few times. If you can get a flame, it's a success. It's something like Felix Felicis, just that the probability of it lighting isn't very high. Let's hope we don't run into anything too outrageous today…”
“It’s fine. The weather is good today, so we don't have to worry even if there's a Dungbomb in the stands. Besides, we have William today, don't we? He's the professional at handling these kinds of unexpected incidents.”
Adams cheerfully tempted fate—making William jump with every word. The speech hadn't even started yet. Was it really appropriate to be jinxing things like this?
“We still need to be careful; we can't let any major problems happen,” William urged his two somewhat overconfident companions. “That's our funding for a long time to come! You two surely have a surplus, but some of the equipment for my Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom still needs to be purchased!”
After all, a magic course can't just be about reading books; necessary experimental animals still have to be bought. No matter how big Hogwarts is, it can't possibly produce every little thing they need. They can't just keep catching rabbits from the Forbidden Forest to use as practice dummies, can they?
*Click!*
With a crisp sound, the lighter William had been fiddling with finally sparked a flame—looks of joy appeared on the faces of both Adams and Singeade.
“It worked just like that? But I don't feel anything.”
William focused on his senses in confusion, but he truly didn't feel as if he had drunk Felix Felicis. He experienced none of the sensations described in the formula.
“Of course not. It's an imitation, after all. Permanent use, no ingredients needed, and it's guaranteed to work if you just keep trying—with all these advantages, you have to sacrifice the effect. But doesn't this already prove that we're lucky enough?”
Singeade said with a matter-of-fact expression, “It's yours. It's a prototype, still being modified.”
...
Was this fifty-thousand-Galleon expense from the Ministry of Magic really a good idea...?
(end of chapter)
William had experienced visits from leaders of the Wizarding World before—the best meal he ever had in Azkaban was during one such occasion.
But this time was different from the last.
Last time, he was in prison, simply waiting obediently for the Hit-Wizards to distribute various benefits. This time was much more arduous—he had to work.
“Professor William, Professor Adams, Professor Singid, you three are the youngest professors. Please be responsible for keeping an eye on the students and preventing any radical behavior,” Professor McGonagall instructed them solemnly.
“Huh? Professor McGonagall, isn't Professor Lockhart coming?” Adams asked, a look of confusion on his face.
“No, he's in charge of receiving the Minister and his party,” Professor McGonagall said, pointing to the Great Hall doorway. “He volunteered for the job, which solved a big problem for us. By the way—Professor William, would you like to do the welcoming?”
“No, thank you, Professor. I think staying with Adams and the others is just fine,” William replied earnestly.
Come to think of it, William had more or less been sent to Azkaban by that very Minister. Although there was no direct connection, because of this, William really didn't have a favorable impression of the Minister for Magic.
“Very well then. However, I do think it's beneficial for young professors to interact more with such important figures—” Professor McGonagall nodded. “But with Professor Lockhart there, it’s also quite good.”
Why do your words carry a hint of coercion? Is it just my imagination, Headmaster?
“Yes, Professor Lockhart is good at that sort of thing. It's a virtue to let those who are skilled do what they do best, Professor.”
“Alright,” Professor McGonagall nodded. “Let's leave it at that for now. I'm going to give instructions to the kitchen.”
Professor McGonagall left quickly. From her current demeanor, you couldn't tell at all that she had spent half the morning cornering Dumbledore in a fit of anger.
Once Professor McGonagall was a good distance away, Adams sidled up. “That was a close one, William—good thing you reacted quickly. Otherwise, you’d never be able to get out of it in the future.”
“Get out of it?”
“Of course. Welcome the Minister for Magic once, and you'll have to do it a second time. No one wants that job. Managing students is so much easier. Just thinking about having to stay with the Minister is exhausting.”
Adams said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
The Ministry of Magic has that little prestige?
“Isn't anyone thinking of getting close to the Minister for a promotion?”
“Get close to the Minister for a promotion? Do you mean within the Ministry of Magic? Anyone who wants to take that path wouldn't even be able to become a professor. How could someone who doesn't like teaching students possibly become a professor?”
Adams was even more surprised than William. “How could Dumbledore possibly allow someone like that to become a professor?”
Alright, Hogwarts is incredible. I get it.
William shrugged his shoulders in acknowledgment.
“Haha, let's get to work, William. We have to watch out for troublemakers. You should know, the students at this school are a restless bunch, especially the Gryffindors—”
Adams drew his wand and with a gentle flick, a brilliant firework immediately bloomed in the air. “Setting off a firework at an event like this is the dream of who knows how many little troublemakers. If we don't stop them, heavens knows what those kids will get up to.”
So, the reason Professor McGonagall didn't spell it out is because the culprits are always from her own House?
As if sensing William's thoughts, Adams wagged his finger. “Don't think it's just Gryffindor. They aren't the only ones who cause trouble. Too many kids their age are desperate to make a name for themselves. We have to be careful. At the very least, we can't let any old rubbish land on the Minister for Magic's head.”
...
Just how hard are the students to manage to have this kind of mindset?
As long as nothing lands on the Minister's head, it counts as a success?
Adams wasn't even finished speaking when Singeade took out a small lighter and began striking the flint over and over.
To the rhythmic *click-clack* of the striking flint, he spoke in a gratified voice:
“It's much better with you here this year. I remember Adams and I had our funds docked before—Professor McGonagall didn't approve my experiments for two months straight!”
That must have been truly painful—alchemy is basically useless without experiments. It's a trade that just burns through money.
“What did you do to make Professor McGonagall that angry?”
“It wasn't what I did, but what I failed to stop. The Ministry of Magic was in the middle of changing leadership back then. A few of the upperclassmen were part of the opposition, and they threw Dungbombs during the inaugural speech…”
“Wait, you couldn't stop them from throwing something all the way from the floor to the stage?”
William was astonished. Forget Singeade, even any random upperclassman could have drawn their wand and stopped it, right?
“Nope. The kid was smart. He threw it on the ground at his own feet—” Singeade shook his head. “He even got himself covered in it!”
...
What a hardcore kid.
“Wait, there are students with that much nerve?”
“What do you think? William, they're capable of causing all sorts of trouble right in front of Dumbledore, let alone the Minister for Magic.”
...
The Minister for Magic must have had a rough time over the years. If even the professors think this way, how many students, after graduation, would feel that the Ministry of Magic's authority is greater than Dumbledore's?
“See? Right? It’s not that I didn't put in the effort. It’s just... how was I supposed to intercept that? Who would have thought the kid would be so ruthless? The Great Hall was uninhabitable afterward!”
Singeade shook his head and tossed the lighter over. “Flick it a few times. If you can get a flame, it's a success. It's something like Felix Felicis, just that the probability of it lighting isn't very high. Let's hope we don't run into anything too outrageous today…”
“It’s fine. The weather is good today, so we don't have to worry even if there's a Dungbomb in the stands. Besides, we have William today, don't we? He's the professional at handling these kinds of unexpected incidents.”
Adams cheerfully tempted fate—making William jump with every word. The speech hadn't even started yet. Was it really appropriate to be jinxing things like this?
“We still need to be careful; we can't let any major problems happen,” William urged his two somewhat overconfident companions. “That's our funding for a long time to come! You two surely have a surplus, but some of the equipment for my Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom still needs to be purchased!”
After all, a magic course can't just be about reading books; necessary experimental animals still have to be bought. No matter how big Hogwarts is, it can't possibly produce every little thing they need. They can't just keep catching rabbits from the Forbidden Forest to use as practice dummies, can they?
*Click!*
With a crisp sound, the lighter William had been fiddling with finally sparked a flame—looks of joy appeared on the faces of both Adams and Singeade.
“It worked just like that? But I don't feel anything.”
William focused on his senses in confusion, but he truly didn't feel as if he had drunk Felix Felicis. He experienced none of the sensations described in the formula.
“Of course not. It's an imitation, after all. Permanent use, no ingredients needed, and it's guaranteed to work if you just keep trying—with all these advantages, you have to sacrifice the effect. But doesn't this already prove that we're lucky enough?”
Singeade said with a matter-of-fact expression, “It's yours. It's a prototype, still being modified.”
...
Was this fifty-thousand-Galleon expense from the Ministry of Magic really a good idea...?
(end of chapter)
