Voldemort's Idol
Rehire Lupin?
That was a good idea, and Harry immediately dismissed the idea of bringing Cassandra back as the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.
Hey, thinking about it carefully, Cassandra really isn't suited to be Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
Just think about it, this school already has one sharp-tongued professor. If Cassandra comes back to be the professor, wouldn't there be two sharp-tongued professors?
"I think this is a great idea, Professor," Harry said in support. "Professor Lupin's teaching is impeccable."
Moreover, his serious attitude towards students made him the perfect candidate to Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.
"Not entirely, is it?" Dumbledore's wise eyes flashed behind his half-moon spectacles. "I think you actually have another candidate to recommend?"
"Yes, there is one," Harry nodded, "But after you suggested her, Professor, I felt she was no longer suitable."
"Her?" Dumbledore asked with interest. "Let me guess—who was your original choice? Perhaps Miss Malfoy? She's probably the only one who fits your recommendation."
"Yes," Harry said, shrugging. "You're right, Professor. I did originally intend to recommend Cassandra as the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts."
Dumbledore smiled and shook his head, saying, "Since you're no longer insisting, I won't offer any more advice. Well then—I'll inform Miss Sweeting later so that she and the Board of Governors can pass a resolution to hire Remus."
Upon hearing this, Harry became curious as well.
"What were you originally planning to persuade me of?" he asked curiously.
"Oh," Dumbledore chuckled, "Do you know why I've lived so long?"
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Because I never speak ill of someone's girlfriend in front of their boyfriend," Dumbledore with a sly smile.
Harry:
"So you also think Cassandra isn't really suited to be a professor, right?" he asked.
"I heard that you were with Miss Malfoy at the Dueling Club a hundred years ago, right?" Dumbledore asked an unrelated question.
"Yes." Harry nodded.
"And what do you think," Dumbledore, organizing his thoughts to make his words less offensive, "What do you think of Miss Malfoy's teaching abilities? Would you like her to be your professor?"
Harry thought back for a moment.
Oh, the titles he received included, but were not limited to, "little Troll," "dullard," "idiot," "useless thing," and so on. "Never mind," Harry said, raising his hands. "I wholeheartedly agree with your recommendation. I believe only Professor Lupin is qualified to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts."
No sooner had he finished speaking than the Headmaster's Office door opened again.
A gust of wind blew by, and Harry saw Snape standing beside him.
"Dumbledore," Snape said in a flurry, "Now that toad Umbridge— I'll call him that for now—has been expelled from Hogwarts, the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor is vacant, and as the head of Slytherin, I think it's necessary to choose an experienced and excellent professor to fill this vacancy."
Harry turned to look at Snape.
Experienced and excellent professors?
I'm afraid you're talking about yourself, Professor Snape!
Snape happened to look down as well, and when his eyes met Harry's, he was stunned for a moment, but after seeing Harry's face clearly, he burst into laughter.
Ha, Potter!
Harry ruthlessly saw through Snape's central idea; he not only saw it, but also exposed it.
"Does the professor mean you should go by yourself?"
"Ha." Snape waved his sleeve, as if to say, "I won't stoop to your level."
"I'm sorry, Severus," Dumbledore said with a smile, "I know what you mean, but I already have someone better in mind."
"Is that so?" Snape asked, narrowing his eyes. "Who is it?"
"Remus Lupin," Dumbledore said with a chuckle, "He taught Defense Against the Dark Arts two years ago."
I think he must be very experienced, don't you think, Severus?
Snape took a deep breath.
"Hmph." He turned and left without leaving a trace.
"I think he's furious," Harry said, watching Snape's retreating figure. "He must be furious—I heard Percy say back in my first year that the reason Professor Snape disliked Quirrell was because Quirrell had taken away the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor that Professor Snape had always wanted."
"Oh, you can think of it that way." Dumbledore smiled and winked.
"Why?" Harry asked curiously. "Why would Professor Snape want this position so much?"
"It's probably because of me," Dumbledore said with a smile. "In 1981, Severus began teaching at Hogwarts. He initially applied for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts, but I insisted on giving him the positions of Potions Class Teacher and Head of Slytherin House, so that he could succeed the retiring Horace Slughorn."
At this point, Dumbledore paused for a moment. "Although it is rare for someone to become the head of a house at a young age at Hogwarts, Severus is the only professor at Hogwarts who came from Slytherin, so I chose him to be the head of Slytherin. On the other hand, you should know that he is actually one of my men, and I also have him keep an eye on the young Slytherin students, because many of them will—not without reason—join the Death Eater."
"Not all of them," Harry shrugged. "Professor Garick, the Head of Hufflepuff a hundred years ago, became Head of Hufflepuff at the age of twenty-three. Also, Professor Sharpe was quite young when he became Slytherin Head of House."
"Oh, I know." Dumbledore nodded with a smile. "Professor Garick, I remember her. She was a real beauty. Many of my classmates liked her and looked forward to Herbology Class. Haha—those days are truly gone forever."
"Yes," Harry said, scratching his head. "I liked her a lot back then, but Cassandra said I was like a dog chasing a flying broom."
"Why?" Dumbledore interest.
"Because dogs can never catch up with flying broomsticks, and even if they did, they couldn't ride them," Harry said, shrugging.
Dumbledore a moment, then understood the deeper meaning of those words.
He nodded with a complicated expression and said, "I am truly gratified that you did not insist on Miss Malfoy becoming the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. I find it hard to imagine how the students could endure Severus in Potions Class and then be baptized by her in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Perhaps, compared to the Dark Arts, her words are the real Dark Arts."
"Hey!" Harry slammed his hand on the table. "I'm still here, Professor Dumbledore!"
"Oh, sorry." Dumbledore smiled at Harry.
Harry couldn't help himself and burst out laughing, saying, "Actually, I agree with you too." The two of them laughed for a long time. Then Dumbledore said again, "By the way, I also want to thank you for protecting Sybill. I still stand by my opinion that even though you studied and lived in that dark era, your heart is still kind."
"You think I'm kind too, right?" Harry said happily, then asked, "I have a question, Professor. Why did you hire Professor Trelawney to teach Divination Class? Was it simply because she's the great-great-granddaughter of the Oracle Cassandra Trelawney?"
"No," Dumbledore said. "It was a cold, damp night sixteen years ago, in the Hog's the Hog's Head Inn in Hogsmeade. I went there to see an applicant who wanted to be a Segmentation teacher, even though it was completely against my intention to keep Segmentation going. But the applicant was the great-great-granddaughter of a very famous and highly Oracle, so it was only customary for me to see her. But I was disappointed. It seemed to me that she had not inherited any of that talent. I wish I had politely told her that she was not suitable for the position—and then I turned and left."
"And then?" Harry pressed. "What made you change your mind?"
"Because of her Prophecy." Dumbledore stood up, walked past Harry, and came to a black cabinet next to the Phoenix Perch.
He bent down, pulled open the door, and took out a shallow stone basin with ancient characters engraved on its rim.
It's the Pensieve. Harry used it more than once, and there's an identical one in the Map Chamber.
It contains his mother's memories.
Dumbledore returned to his desk, placed the Pensieve on it, and then raised his wand to his temple.
He extracted a few strands of silver, spiderweb-like fine thoughts and stuck them onto the wand, then placed these thoughts into the stone basin.
He returned to his seat behind the table and watched his thoughts swirl and float in the Pensieve.
After a while, he sighed, then raised his wand again and picked up the silvery substance at the tip.
A figure emerged from within, draped in a shawl, her eyes appearing exceptionally large behind her glasses. She slowly spun around, her feet in the Pensieve.
It was Sybill Trelawney, the professor who had finished class.
But when she spoke, Harry didn't hear her usual ethereal and mysterious voice, but rather the harsh, hoarse voice Harry had heard once before.
"The one with the power to conquer the Dark Lord has approached a family that has defeated the Dark Lord three times. The Dark Lord has marked him as his formidable enemy, but he possesses an energy that the Dark Lord does not understand. One must die at the hands of the other, for neither can live; only one can survive—the one with the power to conquer the Dark Lord will be born at the end of the seventh month."
Professor Trelawney, slowly rotating, disappeared again into the clump of silver threads below.
The office was quiet. Dumbledore, Harry, and all the portraits were silent, not a sound was made, even the Phoenix was still.
Dumbledore was still staring at the Pensieve, lost in thought. "Is this the Prophecy Professor Snape overheard?" Harry asked uncertainly. "I think—oh, that time when my parents came back temporarily, Dad and Professor Snape reached an understanding—and then Voldemort chose me?"
"Harry," Dumbledore said softly, "It's strange that it might not even be referring to you. Sybill's Prophecy could apply to two wizarding boys, both born at the end of July that year, both whose parents were in the Order of the Order of the Phoenix, and both who had escaped Voldemort's clutches three times—one, of course, is you, and the other is Neville."
Longbottom.
"Then why did Voldemort choose me?" Harry asked, frowning.
"Oh, because you share the same name as that legendary wizard from a hundred years ago." Dumbledore's eyes flickered. "You should know that Voldemort always looked up to Harry Potter when he was in school. Perhaps he felt offended because you took the name of the person he respected most, or perhaps for some other reason. In any case, he chose you."
Harry opened his mouth.
This is some kind of fucking reason?
Looking at this hatred, is it something I attracted to myself?
"Of course," Dumbledore a smile, "Even without this Prophecy, Voldemort would not have let you go, for the reason I just mentioned."
"Maybe I'm not a serial killer, so I can't understand this kind of thinking," Harry said, somewhat speechlessly.
I thought it was because it wasn't raining, but it turns out Voldemort really left me speechless.
"Alright." Dumbledore put away the Pensieve and then said to Harry, "In fact, Sybill's Prophecy has proven to be very accurate. You, Harry Potter, are the best person to deal with Voldemort, and you have proven your abilities more than once. Voldemort simply cannot defeat you. You are the most threatening person to him, aren't you?"
"That makes sense," Harry said, touching his cheek. "But I'm actually quite curious, didn't Voldemort consider that if the Prophecy were true, even if he was facing an infant, there was still a possibility he would be killed? Why didn't he choose a Death Eater, instead of having himself do it?"
"Voldemort was an absolutely conceited man, Harry," Dumbledore said with a smile. "That was one of his flaws, arrogance—and arrogance was his smallest flaw."
"Alright," Harry nodded. "And my father learned about this more than a decade later, which is why he didn't choose you to be the Secret Keeper of the Fidelius Charm, nor did he choose Sirius. Instead, he chose Pettigrew himself."
"James was a warrior against darkness, even though he had many flaws." Dumbledore nodded, concluding James's story. "We cannot deny his contributions because of his flaws—of course, we also cannot deny his flaws because of his contributions."
(I also have to accompany them to see the doctor. Ugh, seeing someone sick is so painful.)