Hogwarts' Nightmare

Upon hearing Dumbledore's invitation, Lin Du maintained a calm exterior, but a storm churned within him.

An invitation to Hogwarts? That truly caught him off guard.

Legend had it that Voldemort once desperately coveted the position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, only to be firmly rejected by Dumbledore.

In retaliation, he laid a curse on every wizard who ever held that post at Hogwarts.

Since then, not a single professor had made it safely to a second year.

The curse was daunting enough, but what troubled Lin Du more was another piece of news—

The legendary "Boy Who Lived," Harry Potter, was currently a student at Hogwarts.

A baby who survived that deadly attack had now grown into a teenager, which in itself meant he was bound to be surrounded by endless turmoil.

Lin Du recalled an old Chinese saying: A wise man keeps his distance from danger.

Though his current situation wasn't dire, staying far from such a fated figure, keeping his distance, and acting with caution was the prudent choice.

Getting too close to a Child of Destiny like that meant endless trouble, which ran counter to his pursuit of a quiet life dedicated to research.

"Professor," Lin Du said, lifting his gaze with a sharp look, "I've heard that Gilderoy Lockhart is your intended next professor? His book Magical Me seems to be selling quite well."

Dumbledore leaned back slightly, offering a helpless expression. "Indeed, his application letter is as... dramatic as his books."

"So," Lin Du leaned forward, "are you telling me that between an Order of Merlin recipient and a wanted Dark magic researcher like me, you've chosen me?"

"To be precise, I'm choosing between a 'fraud' and a 'scholar.'"

Dumbledore's blue eyes gleamed sharply. "Lockhart? He can't even do the things he writes about in his own books. Letting him teach Defense Against the Dark Arts would be like letting a Squib teach Transfiguration."

"Even so," Lin Du pressed on, "this cursed position... Professor Quirrell has already proven its danger with his life. Are you inviting me because you think I can withstand the curse better than Lockhart?"

"Precisely because it's dangerous, it requires someone truly capable." Dumbledore's voice dropped low.

"If someone like Lockhart takes it, he might not even survive until Christmas. But you—with your strength and your understanding of the essence of magic—you might not only survive but even uncover the secret of this curse."

Their gazes clashed in the air, the scent of tea slowly spreading through the silence.

"What we need is a helmsman who can ride the storm," Dumbledore finally said, "not an actor who can't even row a boat. Since I have a true talent available, why would I settle for a second-rate choice among second-rate choices?"

"Then," Lin Du set down his teacup, testing the waters, "can I refuse?"

Dumbledore's smile remained gentle, but a sharp glint flashed in his blue eyes. He lightly picked up the Elder Wand, as if by accident, yet the air around them instantly grew heavy.

"Of course, everyone has the freedom to choose, Mr. Lin." His tone was warm but carried the weight of a mountain.

"Option one: accept Hogwarts' invitation, continue your research within its framework, and pass your knowledge on to the next generation. Option two..."

He paused, his gaze burning into Lin Du. "I will have to ask you to accompany me to the Ministry of Magic on charges of 'endangering wizarding world security' and 'multiple assaults on Aurors.' The Dementors of Azkaban would surely be very interested in a wizard with such abundant Magic Power."

Though he had anticipated it, hearing this nearly naked threat firsthand still made Lin Du's heart sink.

He knew this wasn't a choice at all—it was an ultimatum.

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A direct confrontation with Dumbledore and the entire British Ministry of Magic was far from wise.

After a moment of deliberation, Lin Du took a deep breath and made up his mind.

"It seems I have no choice." He shrugged helplessly. "I accept the position, Professor."

The sternness on Dumbledore's face instantly melted, replaced by that kindly smile, as if the threat had never happened.

Lin Du immediately shifted gears. "However, since I'm taking this post, I want full authority over the Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum. The current teaching model at Hogwarts is, in my view, far too frivolous and lax."

The undisguised contempt in his words made Dumbledore's expression stiffen slightly.

"I'd like to know—once you become professor, what is your teaching plan?"

"First, all four houses will have combined classes," Lin Du said bluntly. "Add two practical training sessions per week."

Dumbledore started to speak, but Lin Du raised a hand to stop him. "Each class begins with a ten-minute quiz, with a comprehensive assessment every month. Students who consistently rank at the bottom will attend the Weekend Training Camp."

"Training camp?"

"Intensive training supervised by me personally." Lin Du's gaze was sharp. "Physical fitness, rapid spellcasting, hazardous environment simulations—none of it can be skipped."

Dumbledore frowned deeply. "Hogwarts is not a military camp..."

"Precisely because it's not a military camp, it needs practical training all the more." Lin Du stood his ground. "When real Dark wizards stand before them, will their lively and curious nature save their lives?"

Their eyes clashed in the air, the office falling into silence.

Dumbledore suddenly tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. "I wonder, you're not planning to teach students the Unforgivable Curses in class, are you? After all, this is Hogwarts, not Durmstrang."

Caught off guard by the sudden joke, Lin Du replied flatly, "Of course not. I have no intention of letting Ministry Aurors storm into my classroom."

"Excellent, excellent," Dumbledore said cheerfully, tapping his fingertips together.

"After all, I'd hate to see a headline in the Daily Prophet reading, 'Hogwarts Professor Teaches Students How to Cast the Cruciatus Curse.'"

He regained his seriousness, though a trace of amusement lingered in his eyes. "Back to the matter at hand, I understand your concerns, but such intensity..."

"It is necessary." Professor Lin's tone was resolute. "I can guarantee that after a year of training, every student will be able to hold their ground for ten minutes in actual combat without being defeated."

Dumbledore sank into thought—

Tom was about to return, and the practical combat education Professor Lin emphasized did seem more urgent under the current circumstances, where shadows were faintly looming.

In the end, he slowly exhaled.

"Although your methods differ from the educational philosophy I advocate..."

He chose his words carefully, "I cannot deny that, given the current situation, it is indeed necessary for students to develop stronger practical combat skills in advance."

He stood up and extended his hand to Professor Lin. "I look forward to your performance at Hogwarts, Professor Lin."

"I won't let you down." Professor Lin calmly withdrew his hand.

At that very moment, far away at Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall looked up as if sensing something, gazed at the suddenly darkened night sky, and let out a soft sigh.

For some reason, she suddenly felt an inexplicable worry for the students of Hogwarts.

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