A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts
Chapter 594: Influence and Response - (2)

Unknowingly, Mafalda had already assembled her first core team.

As the meeting was about to end, she pulled out a brand-new notebook, examining her attire repeatedly. "How does it look? Perfect?"

A chorus of praise followed.

"Mafalda, are you going to interview someone?"

"Yes, that's been one of my goals," she said joyfully.

Mafalda dispersed the young wizards, strolling through the courtyard, flipping through potential topics for the next issue of "The Enigma."

"Professor Burbage was singing loudly late at night, seeming to have made a breakthrough in research—Draco Malfoy was holed up in the library all day, striving to become a healer? And there's a rumor that Harry Potter might have contracted red eye disease—" she seemed barely able to contain her joy, "the upcoming Quidditch match is Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff, and there's a change in the Potions class, which I myself am involved in. What should I write? Students from the four houses teaming up against the Potions professor? Oh my, that's my head of house!"

"I think we can tweak that a bit," a voice suddenly interjected.

Mafalda jumped, looking up to find herself in the courtyard, having just weathered March's winds and April's showers. It was a rare good weather day, and she looked at Professor Harp seated on a bench amid a riot of flowers.

"I've written you twenty-seven letters, Professor Harp! And you've only replied three times—" she started to complain but was drawn midway by the thick stack of parchment in Felix's hands.

"Just student assignments," Felix said, spreading his hands, and the parchment vanished.

He leaned back lazily. "Because not a single word in your subsequent letters changed, I didn't see the point in wasting time. Actually, if you keep this up in third year, I'll put you in detention."

Mafalda pouted. "Why did I even choose your class?"

"Perhaps because this class is too important," Felix said matter-of-factly.

Mafalda paused for two seconds. "You almost tricked me there. Those weren't student assignments at all. I saw it! The title was 'Investigative Report by Winnie Valentin.'"

Felix looked at her, surprised.

"I'm sensitive to names," Mafalda said proudly.

"Has anyone told you, Miss Prewett, that boasting is a big part of your personality?" Felix said. "I think you've suffered from it recently... if you've forgotten, I can help you remember, keywords: hair—"

Mafalda shrieked, and Felix exaggeratedly cleaned out his ear, leaning backward.

Mafalda grew more infuriated, quietly cursing Umbridge. "That darned old hag." She touched her hair, knowing how devastated she was when she snapped out of the Confundus Charm to find a chunk of her hair missing.

Felix silently admired for a moment before saying, "We've veered off topic—"

"Shall we begin the interview now?" Mafalda immediately switched gears.

"Oh, no, I just wanted to make an announcement, but I happened to overhear similar content... we can discuss it."

"What? Quidditch or Potions class?"

"The latter," Felix said. "Don't you think the lives of fifth and seventh-year students are too mundane, stuck indoors, moving between classrooms, the library, and common rooms..."

"What's wrong with that?" Mafalda shrugged.

"That'll be your life too," Felix reminded her. "I heard a few students recently suffered emotional breakdowns, ended up in the hospital wing. Those professors are truly wicked."

Mafalda eyed him, hesitating whether to remind him about taking sides.

"I've seen students spontaneously organizing Potion studies lately. That's good, standing up to dark forces... but the scope could be expanded. Sirius—sorry, your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, making you all wave little sticks around all day, so exhausting. Heard he mocks you for not achieving excellence..."

"And Professor McGonagall, always stern, wouldn't you like to see her surprised?"

"Surprised..." Mafalda contemplated. "Scare the professors? Do you have a plan?"

"I don't, but I bet the memories in room seven must know," Felix said. "It's exclusive information."

"Room seven, right! There are many professors' memories in there, they know a lot." Mafalda squinted, thinking about her failed attempts to interview Dumbledore, the only time she got close to his office, someone impersonated her.

She skipped those unpleasant memories and, following her train of thought, considered extracting studying secrets from those memories for a series of reports, especially about O.W.Ls and N.E.W.Ts exams, which would attract massive attention.

If she could pry some professors' secrets... Mafalda grinned mischievously.

"You can do more," Felix said. "I have a proposal that could make you famous... have you thought that some school textbooks are outdated, but you need to make the professors realize this."

"Direct confrontation isn't practical, evidence is needed. How about a different approach? The memories also hold great knowledge and can guess the professors' thoughts. If we align the memories with the students, engage them in an intellectual battle against the real professors..."

Mafalda's eyes lit up.

"By the way, Miss Prewett, I'm taking a huge risk by revealing this to you. If it gets out—" Felix said seriously, "I'll turn you into a frog."

Mafalda was stunned.

"Ever heard the story of the Frog Prince? Hoping someone in reality accepts a kind-hearted frog, well, I'm curious..."

Felix handed her two silver sickles. "This is payment, obtained from Professor Burbage." With that, he briskly walked away—a feeling of delight in passing the task to others.

Dumbledore, however, was not pleased. "You could do this more openly, Felix."

Felix smirked. Laying bait and reeling them in was his instinct as a snake.

"You can do more," Dumbledore saw through his thoughts. "The four founders of Hogwarts, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin, each had their own personalities.

Their spirits live on, even today, within the school. If you want to change it, you must first become it."

Felix clicked his tongue. This speech sounded so familiar. He seemed to have said similar things to many students, the most recent being today. So, the next line should be...

"—And you have that potential."

Ah, he guessed it right.

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