Lynn fought the urge to smash the beer in his hand over the old man's head. Suppressing his temper, he pulled over a small stool and sat opposite him.
Professor Foxx seemed completely unaware of Lynn's resentment and eagerly snatched the beer from his hand.
"German dark beer." He smacked his lips.
"Tut, tut. I don't particularly like the taste, but I can tolerate it."
He tore open the beer pack and casually tossed a can to Lynn.
Lynn caught the beer and rolled his eyes.
"I'm still underage. I can't drink."
Though he said that, he still popped the tab. What had happened today was pretty damn absurd.
Professor Foxx laughed heartily at Lynn's hypocritical actions.
When he laughed, he looked a lot like Lynn; both of them involuntarily narrowed their eyes.
"Still squinting all day at your age. No wonder you have so many crow's feet, hmph."
Lynn also took a pair of chopsticks, dipped them into the broth in the cauldron, and tasted it. The flavor was familiar.
After taking a gulp of beer, Professor Foxx said smugly,
"Today, you're in for a treat. This is an exquisite delicacy I brought back from Chengdu during my travels in China. Just swish the ingredients lightly in the boiling broth, and you'll taste supreme deliciousness.
"As for those five-star hotels, they're just scamming foolish foreigners. The East's true cuisine is hidden in the streets and alleyways. They can't fool me.
"You provide the German beer, and I'll provide the Chinese food. You're getting the better deal."
Wasn't it just hot pot? He made it sound like no one had ever eaten it before.
Even with the hot pot as compensation, Lynn's anger had yet to fade. Staring at Professor Foxx's unnaturally pale face, he curled his lip.
"You're in poor health, yet you're eating spicy food and drinking beer. Don't suddenly drop dead by accident."
Foxx waved a hand carelessly.
"Don't worry about it. I'm just a little afraid of heights. Besides, didn't I ask you to buy medicine for me?" He smiled and raised the beer in his hand. "This is the miracle cure for everything."
Lynn looked at him suspiciously, wondering whether this unethical professor was fooling him again.
"Wizards can be afraid of heights too?"
"Of course they can." Foxx had already impatiently picked up a piece of cooked lamb and put it into his mouth. He was highly skilled with chopsticks; apparently, he had eaten quite a lot during his travels in China.
"Wizards are people too. And as long as they're people, of course they can get sick."
"Don't be so resentful, Belloc.
"Do you know how much I suffered just to get here?
"Because I'd never been here before, I couldn't Apparate. I could only go to The Leaky Cauldron first, but I didn't have a single piece of Muggle currency on me. Going to Gringotts to exchange money with those goblins would have been too much of a loss, and I couldn't use Muggle transportation either, so I had no choice but to fly here on a broomstick.
"But my fear of heights is severe. I simply couldn't control that damned broom properly. After flying for around ten minutes, I couldn't hold on any longer and fell from the sky. Still, at least I made it to my destination."
After drinking a couple of mouthfuls, Foxx began pouring out his grievances to Lynn.
Hearing that, Lynn really couldn't stay angry. The man had come all this way just to help an eleven-year-old child like him get familiar with the wizarding world. What was one drink in return?
Once he got over it, Lynn happily ate hot pot, drank beer, and chatted with Foxx.
"I heard you're a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"
"That's right." Foxx swirled the beer can in his hand. "I originally applied to be a Muggle Studies professor. If I didn't owe Dumbledore a huge favor, I would never have taken on this highly dangerous, thankless job. Now I can only pray that I survive the year."
"Why? Is being a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor dangerous?" Lynn asked, though he already knew the answer.
"Dangerous?" Foxx chuckled, downed half a can of beer, then looked at Lynn. "Do you know how many Defense Against the Dark Arts professors Hogwarts has replaced from 1956 to now?"
Lynn shook his head blankly.
"Twenty-one. And for twelve of those years, the position wasn't even filled. Guess how many of those twenty-one died unexpectedly while in office."
"Ten?" Lynn tentatively offered a middle-of-the-road number.
"Guess again."
"...Thirteen?"
"Fourteen. A mortality rate of over sixty percent. Of the survivors, one could only lie in bed for the rest of his life, and two were permanently disabled."
Lynn sucked in a sharp breath. He knew being a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts was dangerous, but he had never imagined the death rate would be this high.
"Then... other wizards aren't idiots. With such a dangerous job, who would still be willing to apply?" Lynn voiced the doubt in his heart.
"You think Hogwarts would publish those statistics? Even I only found the relevant files in the Hogwarts library and compiled them after it was confirmed that I would be this year's professor."
"Good thing I'm still somewhat conscientious." Foxx used his chopsticks to fish slices of meat from the pot. "If it were someone else, they'd have run off in terror after seeing those numbers."
"Then what is the source of the danger?" Lynn asked carefully.
Foxx clinked his can against Lynn's and drained the beer in it.
"Who knows?" His gaze was profound, and it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. "Some say this position was cursed by a man known as the Dark Lord. Others say it's all Dumbledore's conspiracy. Still others say it's merely coincidence. But who can truly say what the truth is?"
Lynn thought Foxx was worried about his safety over the coming year, so he comforted him.
"Professor, good people are blessed by fate. Nothing will happen to you."
Foxx popped open another can of beer.
"Enough of that nonsense. Let's talk about you. Minerva wrote to tell me you're a clever little rascal. Now that I've met you, your manner of speaking and behavior really don't seem like those of someone your age."
Lynn shrugged, putting on a casual expression. "The more you gain, the more you have to give. I don't think that's a good thing."
Foxx did not doubt him much and nodded in agreement. "Being mature beyond your years isn't particularly praiseworthy. I heard you even spent money to find your own adoptive father?"
"It wasn't exactly spending money. I only signed a legally unenforceable agreement with him, promising that after I inherited my parents' estate, I would transfer one-third of it to him as payment."
"He actually agreed?"
"Of course he didn't." Lynn took a sip of beer and shook his head. "Who would make a fair deal with a child?
"At the time, he wanted to trick me into not signing the agreement and genuinely adopt me, becoming my guardian. That way, the money my parents had left me might all become his someday.
"I wasn't stupid either. I also happened to be going through a magical outburst then. Since he thought he had me in the palm of his hand and didn't take me seriously, I used a few little tricks to get hold of evidence that he'd misappropriated public funds. Then I half-coerced him into signing a conditional adoption agreement."
Foxx stared at him in astonishment. "How old were you then?"
"Around ten." Lynn thought about it. "I think it was not long after my tenth birthday."
Foxx was stunned for a long while before finally laughing helplessly.
"Looks like Minerva wasn't wrong. You really are a clever little rascal."
He set down his chopsticks and beer, then suddenly looked at Lynn with a beaming smile.
"I think we get along rather well. Would you be interested in accepting an investment from me, Mr. Belloc?"
This mountain was opened by me, this tree was planted by me. If you want to pass this road, hand over your recommendation votes! (▼皿▼#)
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