Hogwarts: The Witch Education Handbook

Chapter 12 Dumbledore's Regret

Dumbledore's sudden pause was like a sharp blade, instantly slicing through the tense and heavy atmosphere.

Those piercing eyes were staring intently at him, as if they could see right through him, leaving him nowhere to escape.

"Which parts of it are true?" Dumbledore asked, emphasizing each word.

Sean clenched his hands tightly, trying to control his nervousness and unease.

His eyes began to dart around, unsure of where to look, and he instinctively avoided Dumbledore's gaze.

Under that intensely oppressive gaze, Sean's thoughts were in complete disarray.

What should I do?

Sean quickly went through all the information in his mind.

First of all, compared to other professors, he is undoubtedly a fraud.

He mentioned before that his talent was average, or even very poor.

While studying at Hogwarts, he put in ten times more effort than his peers to learn magic, barely managing to graduate with excellent grades.

After five years of travel and study, his current magical level is at most equivalent to that of an ordinary Auror in the Ministry of Magic, far below the level required for a Hogwarts professor.

Look at all the people who want to be Defense Against the Dark Arts professors.

Voldemort? I doubt I'd even be worthy to lick his shoes at his feet if he were at his peak.

Then look at Snape, the Potions Master and Duel Master, with his dual identity. If he were to utter a single phrase like "Divine Strike," Snape would be lying here, unable to get up.

How could I possibly compare to these people?

...Since his magical abilities were insufficient, why did Dumbledore agree to his application to become a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?

Could it be that...Dumbledore really believed what he wrote in his novels—that he could easily defeat a giant monster as tall as a mountain with a spell he casually cast?

Obviously it is impossible.

Therefore, Dumbledore valued not his magical abilities, but other qualities.

At this moment, Sean thought of his respected predecessor, Lockhart.

Both he and Lockhart were slackers. In the original story, the latter successfully got the job by this time next year, didn't he?

Did Dumbledore really not know he was a fraud?

The original work provides two explanations.

The first point.

The position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, a cursed position, is desperately short-staffed. Due to Voldemort's lingering influence, almost no one dares to apply for the job.

Second point.

When Professor McGonagall asked Dumbledore why he had hired Lockhart to teach, and what students could learn from such a vain and fame-seeking person,

Dumbledore replied that even from a bad teacher, students can learn a lot, such as "what one cannot do and what one cannot be."

This shows that Dumbledore didn't care about the professor's actual magical level; as long as the students could learn knowledge or principles from it, it was a successful lesson.

Moreover, if we only consider magical skill, with Dumbledore's unparalleled strength, it seems that all the professors' magical skills are about the same in front of him.

Therefore, Dumbledore's question, which seemed to be a questioning of his abilities, was actually a subtle way of asking him what he could bring to his students and what he could teach them.

Besides, he and his beloved senior Lockhart are not the same kind of people.

He never used the Oblivion Spell, and none of the victims in his novels are victims.

After all, there are so many classic works, novels, and films from the last century. In this era of information explosion, isn't it much better to just take something out of someone else's mouth, do some artistic processing, and make some embellishments?

Indeed, he is far superior... Many wizards in the wizarding world are already obsessed with his novels, and many even read them while eating or using the toilet, truly experiencing the cultural shock and impact from another world.

After sorting out his thoughts, Sean straightened the hem of his shirt that he had unconsciously clutched due to nervousness, and answered with considerable confidence: "Indeed, as you said, many of the things in my novels are things I haven't personally experienced, and a large part of them come from my imagination and artistic embellishment."

Sean paused here, then asked rhetorically, "Isn't that the charm of novels? Blending imagination with reality, bringing joy to people in the real world, and offering glimpses into the future..."

Dumbledore listened quietly to Sean's answer, his deep eyes gleaming.

As Sean finished speaking, Dumbledore pondered for a moment, then a warm smile spread across his face. He slowly raised his hands and clapped them, the applause echoing in the empty room. To Sean, it was undoubtedly a melodious tune.

Sean knew he had made the right bet.

"Your novel has given me a lot of inspiration and new ideas..." Dumbledore said with a smile, a hint of approval, self-deprecation and satisfaction flashing in his eyes. "Sometimes when I see a group of outstanding young people like you, I always wonder if I am getting old and useless, and if my ideas are becoming more and more out of touch with the times."

"Principal," Sean quietly switched to another title, "Please don't say that. The reason we young people have achieved what we have today is inseparable from the guidance and support of you older generation. Without you, we..."

Looking at the eloquent Sean in front of him, Dumbledore was caught in the same confusion that Professor McGonagall had just experienced.

Where did Phillips, the well-behaved, sensible, and hardworking student from five years ago, go?

Who is he?

"Mr. Phillips," Dumbledore interrupted Sean, "what are your thoughts on the Defense Against the Dark Arts course, and what changes would you bring to it if you were to take charge?"

It's here, it's here.

The problem that Sean had been waiting for so long finally arrived.

Just kidding, he was prepared for this question.

Dumbledore looked at Sean, who was eager to try, with some confusion, and even... a little regret, though he didn't know why he felt this way.

But none of that mattered; he would find out soon enough.