Hogwarts: The Witch Education Handbook

Chapter 80 I'm afraid Professor Sean will misunderstand.

The next day.

As the first rays of morning sunlight pierce through the thin mist surrounding Hogwarts, the magic school slowly awakens from its slumber.

In the Great Hall of Hogwarts, the young wizards, who should have been eating quietly, couldn't help but whisper among themselves, their voices rising and falling.

Clearly, the news spread like wildfire last night.

"Did you hear? Last night, Professor Quirrell tried to steal the Philosopher's Stone but was stopped by Professor Sean," a young Gryffindor wizard said mysteriously to the person next to him.

The young Ravenclaw wizard beside him looked on in surprise: "Oh, really?"

"Of course it's true, would I lie to you?" Hearing the doubt, the young Gryffindor wizard blushed and forced out the word through his teeth, "If you don't believe me, go ask Weasley."

"Which Weasley?"

"Ron Weasley!"

At this moment, Ron was at the head of the long table in Gryffindor, excitedly recounting the story of what happened last night, surrounded by circles of young wizards.

He had never received so much attention before, so he was extremely excited.

"Last night, Harry, Hermione, and I anticipated that someone would try to steal the Philosopher's Stone, so we went to the Chamber of Secrets on the fourth floor."

"We first defeated a three-headed dog the size of a house."

"Then we passed through a terrifying web of demons."

"Harry found the right key out of hundreds of birds with different keys attached."

"As for me..." Ron paused abruptly, and only continued when most of the people held their breath and stared at him intently, "I defeated a giant, 'living' game of Wizards' Chess."

Everything that followed was told to him by Hermione.

"Then, after passing Snape's potion-making trials, when they reached the final one, they saw Quirrell stealing the Philosopher's Stone!"

"hiss."

When the story reached this point, the surrounding young wizards gasped in perfect unison, while the more impatient ones eagerly pressed on, "And then?" "And then?"

"And then?" Ron asked uncertainly. "Then Professor Sean appeared. Because Quirrell used very dangerous dark magic, he was no match for Professor Sean and was killed by the backlash of the dark magic."

Last night, just before going to bed, Dumbledore specifically instructed the three of them not to tell anyone about the "Mysterious Man".

But doesn't that mean he can say whatever he wants, except for the "mystery man"?

So he embellished and polished the story.

"What?! Professor Quirrell is dead?!" The people around exclaimed in unison.

Before the other younger wizards could react, some of the older wizards suddenly shouted, "Does that mean—"

"That means Professor Sean can teach us next semester!"

The somber atmosphere that had been lingering among the older young wizards vanished in an instant before it could even spread.

The young wizards, who were originally somewhat sentimental, felt regret and sadness when they thought about how Professor Quirrell had taught them for a period of time and how such an excellent wizard had gone astray. However, the thought that they could get up close and personal with the handsome, charming, and humorous Professor Sean next semester made them overjoyed.

Some young wizards who already disliked Professor Quirrell have even forgotten the name "Quirok"—who is Quirrell? Sorry, I don't know him...I'm afraid Professor Sean will misunderstand.

However, one of the older young wizards seemed to remember something and hesitated slightly before asking, "Professor Sean... will he still be teaching us next semester?"

"Why not?"

"You mean...that curse?" Some well-informed older wizards had already grasped the situation. They were explaining it to the younger wizards, especially the first-year students, "There's a rumor...that the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor...is cursed by...a 'mysterious person,' and no teacher can hold the position for more than a year..."

Upon hearing the nickname "Mysterious Man," some of the timid young wizards from nearby wizarding families turned pale with fright.

They were born at that age in that era, and when they were young, this nickname really had the effect of stopping children from crying at night.

"You mean Professor Sean won't be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor next semester?"

The young wizard who first mentioned the curse nodded. "That's right."

"But..." The Weasley brothers, seemingly out of nowhere, squeezed into the center of the conversation, each chiming in like a comedian, "But Quirrell has already fulfilled the curse, hasn't he? Now that someone has been fulfilled, Professor Sean should be fine, right?"

"Yes, yes, if the curse is a group curse, then Professor Sean should also be facing unavoidable problems."

"In that case, wouldn't it be enough to just find someone else to co-produce 'Defense Against the Dark Arts' with Professor Sean next semester?"

"That person was used to bear the curse, and Professor Sean was responsible for giving us lectures."

The Weasley brothers grew increasingly animated as they spoke, drawing the attention of the surrounding young wizards. (The Slytherin wizards, in particular, reacted most enthusiastically.)

Yes, how come they didn't think of that?

If they just find another unlucky soul to take the brunt of the curse, wouldn't their beloved Professor Sean be able to continue teaching them?

But...who should I contact?

If Sean were to enter the school's Great Hall at this moment, he would definitely hear a "whoosh whoosh whoosh" sound. That was definitely not the "magical fan" that Hogwarts had just purchased; it was the sound of the CPUs in the heads of the young wizards present running wildly.

For a moment, the surrounding atmosphere became quiet.

After a long while, the little wizard finally raised his hand tremblingly to express his opinion.

"I think we should find Lockhart. That way, Professor Sean will have no rivals in the book world." It was the young Slytherin wizard who spoke first; they seemed to have some kind of innate talent for political maneuvering.

"Let's find a dark wizard instead," a Hufflepuff student suggested reluctantly. "For example, those Death Eaters imprisoned in Azkaban."

A Ravenclaw student added to the proposal: "Every prisoner from Azkaban who is willing to come to Hogwarts as a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor will receive a year here in lieu of three years in prison. I think those prisoners who have been sentenced to more than ten years will be eager to sign up for this activity."

"Who should suggest this to Professor Dumbledore?" a young wizard said, his eyes darting incessantly to the Gryffindors present. "I think even Dumbledore didn't expect that this curse could be broken in this way."

Indeed, not only Dumbledore hadn't expected it... perhaps even Tom Riddle himself, who uttered the curse, hadn't anticipated that Hogwarts students would...

However, no one noticed that at the end of the Gryffindor table, Neville sat alone, all by himself.

Listening to the conversations around him, his eyes were filled with self-reproach and regret. His hands, holding the fork, trembled slightly, and he couldn't even pierce a piece of beef...

...