Be a Good Professor, and Avoid Getting Fired for at Least a Year

Even though some of the young wizards thought it was wrong, the professor's authority and the actions of their classmates made them unconsciously join in. By the time they came to their senses, their cranberry-red and blue school uniform robes were already stained with bright red blood.

The young wizard who was the first to question Voldemort had his bow tie soaked in blood, which was gradually cooling and turning black, exuding a cool, refreshing scent.

The wounds on the scarlet firebird's neck multiplied, and the blood, which initially gushed out, gradually became a trickle. By the time the last Goblin House girl inserted her wand into the firebird's flesh, no more fresh blood could flow.

A faint wisp of smoke emerged from the breathing hole of the bird's hard-shelled beak, vanishing in an instant. The young wizards belatedly realized that, without them noticing, the surging crimson flames had been extinguished.

The brightly colored feathers were stuck together by bloodstains, forming hard, black clumps. The giant bird's flesh, which had lost too much blood, could not be filled in; the wrinkled skin clung to its body, making it look withered and unsightly.

Voldemort, a satisfied smile on his lips, watched as the young wizards of Ilvermorny lined up to complete the assignments he had given them. He then waved his wand, erasing the blood from their bodies.

"My dears, you have overcome your fear, especially the young wizards of Thunderbird House. The professor saw the brilliance of courage in you, and I am deeply proud of you..."

"Of course, the young wizards of the Goblin House also took that step, and I know you must have made an even greater commitment."

"..."

Voldemort used his persuasive skills to dispel their initial fear of bloodshed and to convince the young wizards that their slight physical and mental discomfort was merely the price of overcoming their fear...

Although Voldemort never found anything to fear about blood, and the warm, pungent smell of blood only made him feel comfortable and intoxicated, he was very willing to be understanding of these mediocre little wizards.

"That concludes today's lesson..." Voldemort placed his right hand on his left breast and gracefully tipped his hat, giving the young wizards a strange feeling, as if they were being treated as adults. "But before we end, I have a few words of advice..."

The young wizards looked up at him expectantly.

"True courage is not something to boast about. I hope you will be more calm and composed, and step forward when danger comes, so that other students and professors can cheer for you."

The little wizards' eyes sparkled; they were already anticipating that scene.

Voldemort smiled with satisfaction, "So, please keep the content of this lesson a secret, okay?"

"Of course! Professor Gunt!"

After watching all the young wizards leave, Voldemort packed up his useless lesson plans and teaching materials and walked happily toward his office.

Beside the stairwell in the corridor, an elderly Gnome was wiping the bust of the school's Founders, Isolt, his movements slow and his limbs appearing somewhat stiff.

Despite sharing the same name as those lowly little creatures in the garden, this is merely a misinterpretation resulting from translation. North American Gnome are actually a distant relative of Europe fairies, a kind of intelligent being that speaks human language, is short in stature, has gray skin, and has very long ears.

Voldemort glanced at it a few more times; he had heard some young wizards call this Gnome William, the same name as the Gnome "servant" of the Founders, Isolt.

Yes, servants, though they are referred to as friends in all the scriptures, Voldemort did not believe that lowly humanoids could be friends with the descendants of Slytherin.

Just as he passed by the old Gnome, some shrill voices rang out. "Don't bewitch those little wizards, this place doesn't belong to you, mysterious wizard from afar."

Did it see what was just taught in class?

Voldemort frowned, and the index finger of the hand closest to his wand twitched a few times. He thought that this was just a Gnome, and that taking action here would only disrupt his plans.

Voldemort temporarily abandoned his plan to silence the goblin, glanced at it, and the old Gnome froze on the spot, his eyes gradually becoming unfocused.

After reviewing its recent memories and finding nothing to be wary of, Voldemort left without looking back.

Only after the man had completely disappeared from sight did the elderly Gnome William begin to breathe heavily, his eyes filled with horror, and his old, stiff frame trembled slightly.

"No... no..." The Gnome William forced himself to calm down, gritting his teeth, "This Protestantism is strange, I have to go and warn Fontana..."

In the evening, Professor Gunt Tom Gaunt, who was diligently preparing his lessons in his office, received a visit from a special guest.

"I'm sorry Tom, for bothering you at this time..."

Aegilbert Fontana smiled and politely refrained from barging into the office. He muttered a long string of things, "I asked a student about today's lesson. Although this little Champion was very keen to keep it a secret, kids this age always can't help but show off... Come to think of it, I was like that when I was that age."

Voldemort's eyebrows furrowed almost imperceptibly as he stepped aside to welcome the Deputy Headmaster into his office.

"Oh, this room is still exactly as Amos left it. Didn't you redecorate it? I've always thought the lighting here was too dim..."

Aegilbert sat on the guest seat of the desk, chuckling and looking around. "How about the tungsten filament lamps? Unlike your Hogwarts, we can use some electrical appliances here. I have to admit, Muggle stuff is pretty convenient."

"In fact, Muggle have improved the gas in the lamps, and now there are more convenient and brighter lamps..." Voldemort said casually, referring to the knowledge he had learned at the Fawley.

When Tom mentioned the Muggle lamps, a hint of surprise flashed in Aegilbert's eyes, followed by a surge of delight.

Voldemort shook the teapot with his right index finger, and the teapot, decorated with Horned Serpent, floated up, pouring cold tea for the two of them. "Whether it's a candle or a tungsten filament lamp, it makes no difference to me. If you feel the light isn't enough..."

Voldemort glanced at the Oil Lamp on the wall, and without casting any spells, the flame suddenly became several times brighter, illuminating the entire room.

After doing all this, Voldemort slowly said, "Don't forget, we are wizards."

"Oh, the exquisite manipulation of Magic Power, and the ingenious techniques..." Aegilbert's smile grew even warmer. "Yes, magic can solve our problems, but Muggle stuff also adds some fun to the school. After all, our school's second headmaster was Muggle, and many of our young wizards are also Muggle- born..."

Voldemort interrupted his idle chatter, "Mr. Fontana, what brings you here?"

"Just call me Aegilbert ..." Aegilbert said in a complaining tone, "Oh, the matter, yes, I came to see you about the teaching content."

"A young wizard told me that you demonstrated superb Transfiguration skills in class..." Aegilbert glanced at his expression, saw that he was unmoved, paused before continuing, "And also some unconventional teaching content."

Aegilbert advised in a very considerate tone, "They are, after all, just young wizards, still developing both physically and mentally, and their minds are not yet fully mature and complete. Therefore, our school has always adhered to a gentle teaching method. Today's lesson was a bit... a bit..."

After a moment's thought, Aegilbert found the right words. "Some are not suitable for underage wizards."

"I understand. I will change this teaching method in the future." Voldemort agreed almost without hesitation.

"Oh!" Aegilbert looked at him with surprise, his tone somewhat excited. "I...I thought you came from an old and rigid Pure-blood Families in England. You know they are all eccentric wizards, so their ideas would be very extreme!"

"I didn't expect you to be so much more open-minded than I thought. You even know about Muggle lighting fixtures. That really surprises me..."

Voldemort silently watched as the Deputy Headmaster beamed with delight, weaving a web of lies and actions to win over others—a talent he was born with. The Deputy Headmaster was merely prey in that web.

Voldemort recalled information about the Fontana family: the family of Fontana Fontana, one of the twelve First Aurors of the American Magical Congress. As the founder of a national magical government, only two of the First Aurors survived to old age, and their family was very influential in the United States.

"Oh, right! There's one more thing!" Aegilbert picked up his teacup and then suddenly put it down. "Did you know that the International Confederation of Wizards conference is being held in the United States this summer?"

Voldemort's eyes flickered slightly. "Yes, I know."

Not only did they know, but they were also clear about the details of the entire process, including how many Galleons were spent to achieve this result.

"It was probably this meeting that brought our school to the attention of others. This semester, two older magic schools contacted us," Aegilbert said.

"A magic school?" Voldemort instantly thought of a certain annoying old white-bearded wizard, and his expression turned somewhat unpleasant.

"Yeah..." Aegilbert, then began a series of rambling remarks, "Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and Wizardry and Durmstrang Institute, they said they're going to restart some kind of Triwizard Tournament, and they're planning to drag us in too..."

"This Triwizard Tournament was founded seven hundred years ago, even predating the history of our school. However, it has been discontinued for several hundred years. I don't know if you've heard of it?"

"It's strange, why would they drag us into this? Although it would benefit our school's reputation and expand its influence..."

Voldemort's lips curled into a mocking smile.

Why?

Of course, it's for fame.

As the most prestigious magic school, Hogwarts has been considered the best magic school by Europe wizarding communities for nearly a thousand years, not to mention that the headmaster of Hogwarts is the greatest wizard of our time.

There is no doubt that this image will continue to be passed down.

He remembered that when he was studying at Hogwarts, wizards from other regions were already coming to study Hogwarts. These two schools didn't want to see Hogwarts continue to grow stronger, so of course they wanted to pull it off its throne.

As for bringing Ilvermorny into the picture, it's probably because the International Confederation of Wizards's big news brought Ilvermorny to their attention, and they just wanted to use him as another stepping stone.

A glint suddenly appeared in Voldemort's eyes as he remembered something interesting.

It seems that some of his old friends are at these two schools...

After Fontana left, the entire room was plunged into darkness again. The room Silencio for more than ten minutes when suddenly a pair of blood-red eyes flashed.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, assessed the condition of the body, opened a desk drawer, took out a bright green leaf, rubbed it for a moment, and slowly brought the leaf to his nose, gently inhaling its scent.

The emerald green Magic Power flowed into his body, carrying a faint scent of herbs and trees. Voldemort looked at the untouched tea in his cup and fell into deep thought.

Fontana hadn't let his guard down yet, nor did he fully trust him...

Things are starting to get interesting in the magic school Triwizard Tournament...

Replacing the Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts was just a way to have some fun. Originally, I planned to teach however I wanted and didn't care if I was found out... Now it seems I'll have to stay in this position until at least next year.

"Little wizard, faculty and staff... how should we deal with those idiots?"

As Voldemort's complexion gradually returned to normal, a smile crept onto his lips. He decided to act like a normal professor, to understand what the young wizards were thinking, what they were learning, and how to teach them.

There happened to be a young wizard he had his eye on who needed to be taught and tested.

Voldemort took a piece of parchment from the drawer, dipped his quill in ink, and slowly began to write.

Hogwarts, Quidditch Pitch.

"Oh! Slytherin scored! Those two despicable Slytherin Chaser, Marcus Flint and Graham Montagu, almost injured Ravenclaw's Chaser, Roger Davis!"

Lee Jordan's condemnation echoed throughout the stadium; aside from the Slytherin students, most of the young wizards were indignant. That ball clearly aimed straight at Roger Davis's face; he had to dodge it.

"Look! They're planning to use that same underhanded trick again!" Lee Jordan lamented that his words weren't as powerful as those of his legendary commentator, preventing him from hurting the Slytherin players off the field.

That legendary commentator was known as the eighth man on the field, but unfortunately, he was permanently banned from the stage by the Deputy Headmaster.

"Oh! Roger Davis didn't dodge! He caught the ball with his face!"

Lee Jordan's voice drew gasps from all the young wizards in the school. "By Merlin, it looks like his nose is broken, even though he managed to stop the ball!"

"Hopefully, Seeker Qiu Zhang will catch the Golden Snitch as soon as possible..."

Before the commentator could finish speaking, Madam Hooch had already blown the whistle to end the match, and Slytherin's Seeker Draco Malfoy, caught the Golden Snitch first.

"Slytherin defeated Ravenclaw, evil defeated good—well, Professor, let me say it, I have to say it—"

As the commentary was abruptly cut off, the young Gryffindor wizards in the stands sighed in disappointment.

Loren loosened a strand of long hair wrapped around his index finger and sighed.

Hermione: "..."

She strongly suspected that Loren wasn't disappointed that Slytherin had won, but rather that the match was over and she couldn't continue playing with her hair.

After silently reviewing the key points of Human Transfiguration in her mind, Hermione temporarily put aside the matter.

"Hagrid, the match is over. Let's go to your cabin," Loren said, turning to Hagrid.

"Oh, yes, to the cabin..." Hagrid's large frame felt a bit cramped in the crowded stands. He stood up and stomped his slightly numb feet.

"Let's go, you want Fire Salamander, right? I've prepared a whole bucket for you..."