Something Felt Off

The old ginger was the spiciest after all.

Just as Andrew was feeling uneasy, the heavily promoted advertisements for Magical Legends caught the attention of Hogwarts professors.

After seeing the advertisement several times during a pleasant summer holiday, a married Hogwarts professor decided to give it a try and ordered this month's issue of Magical Legends.

Then, his five-year-old daughter fell in love with it as a bedtime story.

Unfortunately, stories always came to an end—especially when only a tiny portion had been serialized.

And even more frighteningly, eleven-year-old students could be reasoned with or given detention, but there was no negotiating with a five-year-old, especially when the other person who told the story also wanted to hear what happened next.

Although Professor Taylor swore on his O in Magical History that the thing looked made up, he still sincerely sent Dumbledore an owl, hoping that if he had the interview transcript, he could provide a copy to poor Professor Taylor so that he could enjoy a proper summer holiday.

He was willing to guarantee that the transcript would not be circulated outside his home in any way—if that was not possible, he hoped the Headmaster could send him a notice requiring him to work overtime during the holiday...

This earnest letter soon arrived on Dumbledore's desk. Letters from professors were given rather high priority on Dumbledore's end.

Especially now, when Minerva had dragged him into the office to review paperwork, this sort of letter received the highest priority.

"Oh, Minerva, it's a letter from one of the professors."

A tone Fudge had never heard before rang out. After checking the height of the remaining paperwork, Professor McGonagall also stopped reviewing documents, giving the two headmasters a brief break.

Then, Professor Minerva McGonagall saw a rare, deeply puzzled expression appear on Dumbledore's face.

"What happened, Albus?"

"An interview, Minerva."

"An interview?"

Professor McGonagall frowned. "That madwoman Rita?"

Professor McGonagall, who normally refused to speak ill of others, said that name with remarkable ease, but it was perfectly understandable.

"No, it was one I never gave," Dumbledore said with a smile. "But it sounds rather interesting."

Dumbledore stood up and began tidying his desk with his wand. Some low-priority letters slipped out, and he quickly found eleven copies of the current issue of Magical Legends among them.

He should have seen them sooner—if not for a certain person whose name he dared not reveal sending him a mountain of paperwork.

"Apparently, it's an interview with me, and it's selling very well in the Wizarding world."

"Has Rita started spreading rumors again?"

"Probably not. Professor Taylor has never slandered anyone behind their back."

The two of them set aside their paperwork and began reading.

About five minutes later, Professor McGonagall put down the magazine. "Without a doubt, it's a new version of a fairy tale. Only the protagonist's name has been changed."

"Of course," Dumbledore said kindly. "Though they really did conduct an interview, I don't think there's a single sentence in there that I actually said."

"Still, it's better than Rita's, at least. There aren't any malicious rumors."

"It's just that many of the fairy tales are familiar. It lacks originality."

Professor McGonagall fixed Dumbledore, who was still criticizing it, with a look. He promptly put down the magazine. "Ah, of course, of course. What we need to do is handle the paperwork."

"Of course, Albus. The Ministry of Magic needs all of these. We need to repair the greenhouses, replace the desks and chairs in four classrooms, and deal with a water quality issue in Black Lake."

"I'll take care of it, Minerva."

"Good." Professor McGonagall picked up the magazines one by one and stacked them all atop her own pile of documents. "I expect to have all the approvals by lunchtime."

As though their very presence would interfere with Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall resolutely took the magazines away with her.

But before long, Dumbledore found brand-new magazines in the pile of letters again. After sighing, he had no choice but to return to his desk and continue reviewing documents.

"Letters from readers, Editor!"

"A mountain of letters from readers! Without a doubt, we succeeded!"

"I told you this gamble would pay off."

The atmosphere in the magazine office was electric. This was a serialized story, and it was obvious from the beginning that it could run for a long time. If the phenomenon continued, then for at least a year, this column alone would sell the magazine.

"Praise Praise Potato!"

"Praise him!"

The lively atmosphere even alerted the magazine's president. Delighted, he ordered an enormous quantity of Butterbeer and gave everyone responsible for this section double pay for the month.

That sent the cheerful mood soaring even higher.

"Dumbledore, A Legend?"

Harry flipped through the magazine Hedwig had delivered—Hagrid had sent it to him.

In the letter enclosed with the magazine, Hagrid highly praised this semi-autobiography about Dumbledore and told Harry a secret: "It has to be true. When I went to the castle, I saw Dumbledore reading it too!"

That assurance made Harry completely believe the magazine's contents—he had never met Dumbledore, but Hagrid had vouched for it!

And, ashamedly, he had to admit that compared to his textbooks, this autobiography was far more appealing to him.

"Magic... was really this mysterious?"

"A three-stage Levitation Charm?"

"A special wand..."

"An incredible adventure..."

"It really was enviable..."

"Still," he imagined himself standing before Dudley, shouting something like "Thirty years on the west bank of the River Thames," "I still can't do it..."

"Levitation Charm..."

"Levitation Charm..."

In a dentist's household, a freckled little girl waved her wand at a heavy stone.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Both her wand movement and incantation were perfect, so the stone immediately floated up, effortlessly pressing against the ceiling.

"No," she carefully lowered the stone, making sure nothing had been harmed by it.

"It should be a magic-repelling stone, not an ordinary stone like this... Judging by the name, it should be a stone that prevents spells from working so easily."

"Which stage am I, exactly?"

"The casting was successful, and several other spells worked too, but there's no way to judge... If so, then I'm still far behind."

"How many people have been injured by cows trampling them now?"

"Should we set up a dedicated department?"

"Why have so many people been getting hurt by something as simple as the Levitation Charm lately?"

"Mm, this spell works too—conjuring flames..."

"Arson, lockpicking, immobilizing... The magic I know doesn't seem very proper..."

Andrew, who didn't really understand the situation, was feeling a little unsure.