Like a Talentless Actor, Obvious to the Audience at a Glance

"Professor Moody!"

A surprised exclamation rang out as Professor McGonagall strode in from outside the Great Hall, carrying a stack of books.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall." Moody calmly put away his wand.

"What are you doing?" Professor McGonagall's gaze followed the Ermine darting around on the table.

"I wanted to teach a lesson to some dirty, despicable coward who tried to attack others from behind, but two brave little devils want to challenge me..."

Moody slowly reached into his coat, pulled out a curved flask, tilted his head back and took a big gulp. The movement of raising his arm pulled at his clothes, revealing a few inches of his wooden prosthetic leg, which looked like claws.

"Ah..." Moody exhaled as if he had drunk strong liquor and said in a gruff voice, "I just happened to not know the level of the fourth-year students, so I tested their abilities."

"A lesson?" Professor McGonagall adjusted the book in her arms, looked at the Ermine with wide eyes, her expression gradually becoming serious, and said in a deep voice, "Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a means of punishing students. Professor Dumbledore must have told you that!"

"He probably mentioned it..." Moody put away the flask, scratching his chin casually, "But I think some guys need a good scare..."

"We can put him in solitary confinement, Moody! Or report to the Head of House in charge of the case..."

"I'll do that next time."

Professor McGonagall frowned at the dismissive tone. She casually waved her wand, turning the Transfiguration Ermine back into an owl. "A professor and a student violated school rules by casting spells in the Great Hall, openly defying the rules... This is outrageous! I must report this to Dumbledore and have him give you a proper lecture on the duties of a professor!"

She looked up at the young wizard opposite her, her tone softening slightly. "Who was involved? I need you all to go to the Headmaster's office and explain what happened."

Loren took the first step, followed closely by Hermione. The two walked silently to Professor McGonagall's side, looking extremely obedient.

Harry and Draco followed suit, silently walking to Loren's side and following the professor toward the Headmaster's office... Ron scratched his head, and finally gritted his teeth and followed as well.

Watching the departing figures, the Great Hall gradually returned to order under the guidance of the Prefect, with some of the young wizards still somewhat dazed...

Seamus and Dean were standing by the Gryffindor table, hoping that Professor Moody would teach Malfoy a lesson. But in the blink of an eye, they saw Harry confronting the professor. When they came to their senses, they saw Loren standing in the middle with his wand, casually flicking it away. Professor Moody's Transfiguration and Harry's powerful Disarming Charm were both knocked away.

Both of them were sent flying!

Seamus looked up at the dome of the Great Hall, his eyes glazed over, his mouth slightly open, looking rather dim-witted.

Dean pulled him slowly to sit down on the stool. In front of them were a mess of cups and plates. The Ermine had knocked over the stew pot and mushroom soup, and water was still dripping from the table.

"Why is Harry helping Malfoy?" Dean's head was still a little dizzy. "I thought the new Professor Moody was on our side, but now it seems like he's against us."

"Isn't the point that Loren just knocked the spell off two people at once...?" Seamus murmured absently.

George, who was standing next to him, had just recovered from his surprise and pulled Fred aside to ask in a low voice, "Did you see that clearly? Just once?"

Fred nodded, somewhat astonished. As a senior two years ahead of them, let alone easily overturning an old professor's magic, even if he practiced the Shield Charm repeatedly, he might not be able to stop it.

George sighed sadly, "It looks like we won't get the 1,000 Galleon from the Triwizard Tournament."

"I don't think so!" Fred straightened his back and raised his chin. "He's not old enough either, but he certainly wouldn't have thought of such a good idea Draught of Living Death."

George paused for a moment. "We've already publicized this method, and... Loren is the head of the Potions Club..."

Fred's shoulders slumped, and he scratched his head, looking very distressed.

Headmaster's office.

The dusty Sorting Hat lay upside down on the Sorting Hat, with Fawkes, whose feathers gleamed, huddled mostly behind it, cautiously peeking out his little head from beside the tip, his bean-sized eyes sparkling.

The portraits of past principals on the wall each depict a dignified and elegant figure, but their eyes are darting around, revealing an irrepressible excitement.

"...The famous Harry Potter stopped my magic..." Moody said in a gruff voice, his terrifying magical eyes darting around. "This little Witch said I shouldn't use Transfiguration ... Ha! I thought it was interesting, so I wanted to test the little ones' skills..."

This little Witch...

Dumbledore paused for a moment while serving the tea, took a sip without making a sound, and maintained his smiling expression. His deep blue eyes, hidden behind his crescent-shaped spectacles, were clear and profound.

Loren sniffed, picked up his teacup, took a small sip, narrowed his eyes, and smiled.

It was worth it for him to sit next to Professor Moody; he could smell that familiar scent.

The scents of the Bubotuber and Bifurcated Grass were a bit weak, and the aromas of the African Tree Snake Skin and Unicorn Horn powder were not strong enough either. I probably bought inferior, expired medicinal materials... However, the Gillyweed that had been boiled for 21 days still had a certain flavor.

Polyjuice Potion, I really miss them.

Hermione blinked, looked at Loren, then at Dumbledore, and felt that the two had somewhat similar expressions.

Also, Professor Moody really strange. Why does he call her "little Witch" as if he doesn't know her name?

They've met at the Ministry of Magic before...

Has Professor Moody forgotten?

"Miss Granger is right!" Professor McGonagall said, somewhat annoyed. "Mr. Moody, you are a professor now, not Aurors. Your student is not a dark wizard, much less a criminal! The correct course of action is to put him in solitary confinement or contact the Head of House. You should take a good look at the Hogwarts rules!"

"I will do that," Moody said casually.

Draco sat silently at the far end, the glint in his light-colored eyes complex and unfathomable. The image of those Ermine scurrying about in panic was still vivid in his mind... He was just a hair's breadth away from becoming an animal to be mocked in front of everyone in the Great Hall, and that shame and pain would have befallen him.

What saved him from disaster was that fool Harry Potter...

"Don't look at me like that!" Moody suddenly turned and stared at Draco. "My sincere advice is, don't even think about getting revenge on me, even if you have a School Governor as a father!"

The twisted and ferocious face forced out a weird smile, "Yes, I have known your father before, son... you can tell him that Moody is paying close attention to his son..."

"Alright, so your house's Head of House is Snape, is that right?" Moody suddenly raised his voice and roared.

"Yes." Draco lowered his head, as if terrified by the demonic eye.

"An old friend! Come on, kid..." Moody was about to reach out and grab Draco's arm.

Bang.

Dumbledore set down his teacup, the porcelain clinking softly against the wooden table. "Alright, Alastor, you go find Snape now. I want to have a good talk with the children..."

"Albus, you're still as long-winded as ever... Some people just need to be taught a lesson..."

Moody grumbled gruffly as he stood up and limped out. "But that's fine, I was actually looking forward to having a good talk with Snape..."

Dumbledore's gaze followed his retreating figure until it completely disappeared behind the Oak Door. He then said softly, "Minerva, go and check on them. Make sure they don't start fighting."

"Probably not..." Professor McGonagall said uncertainly, then after thinking for a moment, she immediately got up and followed.

The departure of the two professors dispelled the heavy atmosphere in the office, and everyone relaxed as if they could finally breathe. Fawkes peeked out from behind the Sorting Hat, perched on a branch, and watched the scene below with great interest.

The paintings on the wall immediately came alive, huddling together and whispering. In fact, in their time, corporal punishment of students was common, and it was not uncommon for administrators to hang students up.

"Does anyone want some Pumpkin Juice?" Dumbledore blinked. "I think you'd probably prefer something sweeter right now than black tea."

Before they could answer, the tea in the cups dropped steadily, and sweet Pumpkin Juice gushed out.

Harry, holding the cup, asked somewhat awkwardly, "Professor, are we going to be put in solitary confinement?"

"Well, I need to think about that..." Dumbledore said. "Professor Moody has been talking the whole time. Now I'd like to hear your side of the story, especially how the conflict between you two occurred."

Harry, Ron, and Draco's expressions immediately became somewhat unnatural. They stammered about what happened in the Great Hall, but none of them could explain it clearly. At first, Harry and Ron were talking about Professor Moody, and later they found Draco to test him for any thoughts of reporting Hagrid.

Draco seized the opportunity to intimidate the two, and Ron couldn't help but retort. Draco then used the Daily Prophet to make a few sarcastic remarks to him, and the situation gradually got out of control. The two mocked and attacked each other, saying many offensive things, and finally the battle spread to their respective mothers.

What happened next happened naturally.

"...That's it." Ron whispered the last sentence, then lowered his head in shame.

"Such a vibrant and passionate age..." Dumbledore nodded and remarked, "Speaking of conflict, I am reminded of something that happened many years ago when I was a young professor of Transfiguration. At that time, Professor Herbert Beery, the Herbology Class teacher, was a very enthusiastic theater enthusiast. He proposed to adapt the story of Fountain of Good Fortune, which was loved by children, into a Christmas performance for teachers and students to enjoy."

"Herbert assigned me to be in charge of 'special effects,' which included providing a fully functional Fountain of Good Fortune and a small grassy slope... Professor Kettleburn was in charge of an earthworm prop. I believe, without boasting, that my Fountain of Good Fortune and grassy slope performed their assigned tasks diligently and responsibly..."

Seeing that Dumbledore was about to continue reminiscing, Loren, having finished a glass of Pumpkin Juice, couldn't help but cough twice, clearing the thick syrup from his throat. "Cough, cough..."

Dumbledore clicked his tongue in disappointment, then finally remembered the important matter. "Malfoy, hmm, that title always reminds me of your father Lucius. May I call you Draco?"

Draco's face flushed slightly, and he nodded reservedly.

Dumbledore looked at him with a smile, "I'd like to ask, did you really intend to ambush Harry back then? To teach him a lesson, to show him what's what..."

Draco's face turned pale again. He pursed his lips and hesitated for a long time before answering softly, "I... I don't know."

Ron glared at him fiercely; if there were magic that could turn gazes into swords, Draco would already be being tortured to death.

Dumbledore didn't seem to care at all, and smiled, "When I was your age, and even after graduation, I still often had this thought. When I was angry, I wanted to take out my wand and give someone a good whack, just like I just said, to teach him a lesson and show him what I'm capable of."

The young wizards looked at him in surprise, never expecting that Dumbledore, who spoke so slowly, had such a fiery temper in his youth.

Apart from Loren, he was holding Hermione's cup, intently drinking Pumpkin Juice.

"This is nothing... Many times we have dark thoughts, maybe in the next second, maybe decades later. Until the very last moment, you don't know if you will put them into practice."

Dumbledore looked at Harry. "And what about you, Harry? Why did you try to stop the professor's spell, even though it was meant to help you vent your anger?"

Harry carefully recalled his thoughts at the time. Perhaps he felt that Draco Malfoy had helped them a few times, perhaps he was worried that Draco would report Hagrid, or perhaps something else...

Under Ron's accusing gaze, Harry felt ashamed. "I... I didn't know, Professor. By the time I realized it, I had already done it."

"A quality as fine as a ruby, Harry." Dumbledore's smile softened. "I don't think you've done anything wrong, or have committed any wrongdoing... so, no detention."

Harry, Ron, and Draco couldn't help but smile. They wanted to share this joy with their friends, but when they turned their heads and saw each other's faces, they all looked away with disgust.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Alright, I think you might want to continue the conversation from the Great Hall. Go back now... Loren and Hermione, stay behind. You seem to have something to say to me."

The two of them stayed behind, and the three of them quickly walked out of the Headmaster's office. As soon as they stepped out of the Oak Door, their steps slowed down in unison.

Harry and Ron kept their eyes level with the corridor ahead, but their peripheral vision was focused on Draco, trying to figure out how to ask him to let Hagrid go.

Draco casually glanced around, his mind racing with countless scathing remarks that wouldn't make him lose face. But when it came to his lips, he quickly uttered, "Thank you, Potter."

"What?" Harry looked at him in astonishment.

Draco's pale ears gradually became congested with blood.