Two and a Half Wizards

After Herbology with Ravenclaw, it was time for History of Magic, taught by Professor Binns.

Same as ever.

The familiar, comforting feeling brought tears to Glenn's eyes.

That monotonous voice, that unchanging tone—it was like a slow but relentless hypnotic machine gun, sending sleepiness indiscriminately after every student who came to class.

Honestly, managing to make the thrilling, sweeping events of magical history so boring and tedious was a talent all its own.

Still, it wasn't entirely Professor Binns's fault—after all, he was a ghost now.

The professor had fallen asleep in front of the fireplace in the staff room. When he went to class the next morning, he'd forgotten to bring his body along, and somehow ended up as a mindless teaching machine... Ahem, a ghost.

Even Glenn didn't know when exactly Binns had started teaching at Hogwarts.

After all, Professor Binns had already been a hardworking teaching ghost for over a century...

He didn't take a salary or ask for compensation, never needed a break, and showed up on time whenever he had a lesson. He was practically the school's dream teacher.

Rumor had it that Headmaster Black had once considered rehiring some elderly professors who were nearing the end of their lives to teach at Hogwarts.

The official explanation was that the older professors had more teaching experience and were better at managing a classroom.

But looking at Professor Binns, Glenn couldn't help thinking that the old Headmaster Black might have had another motive...

The professor teaching Charms was a short man named Flitwick. He had to stand on a stack of books to reach the lectern during class.

There was nothing wrong with the lesson itself. It was just that sometimes the stack of books beneath him wobbled, making everyone worry that one slightly too-large movement might send him tumbling behind the lectern and disappearing from the classroom.

Professor Flitwick had never said anything about it, but for some reason Glenn had a feeling.

The professor might have a bit of Goblin blood.

Aside from his short stature, those occasional sidelong glances of his always reminded Glenn of the glorious days of the Goblin Rebellion.

Of course, that was just a personal impression.

In reality, Glenn thought Professor Flitwick was probably just checking whether the students understood the lesson, not planning to blow their heads off.

As for Defence Against the Dark Arts, it was the one class the entire year was genuinely looking forward to.

Glenn was also terribly curious to see how a professor with a Dark wizard's fragment attached to the back of his head could teach a good Defence Against the Dark Arts class.

For that, he was even willing to break with his usual habits and claim a seat at the front.

And of course, he wasn't the only one hoping to sit near the front for this much-anticipated class.

Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, and Marcus Belby, who was sitting beside him, had all claimed seats near the front early, eager to hear the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor's first lesson.

And Professor Quirrell didn't disappoint them.

In the mere ten seconds after he entered the classroom, the students sitting near the front caught a whiff of something unusual.

Now, this wasn't a figure of speech called "symbolism."

They really had smelled something unusual.

To describe it, it was an overpowering stench of garlic.

Even Glenn, who was often around garlic and loved adding it to his cooking, couldn't help frowning.

That was how strong the smell was.

Malfoy's face twisted in misery, giving him wrinkles that no child his age should have had.

Daphne, being a girl, was more sensitive, and her sense of smell was sharper too. Now, she had buried her face in the crook of her arm, wishing she could cut off her own nose—at least until class ended.

As for Theodore, well, he really was a tough guy.

His face didn't show the slightest trace of emotion. He sat perfectly still and made it through the entire Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson.

If everyone else hadn't fled when class ended while he remained seated, motionless and staring blankly ahead, Glenn would have continued believing he was tough.

Instead, he suspected Theodore might have been suffocated by the smell.

"Do Dark wizards these days all want to possess other people and use garlic to stink them to death?"

At lunch, Glenn seriously considered the question in the dining hall.

Honestly, the newspapers were always saying that wizards in the Wizarding World were getting weaker with every generation.

But back then, he hadn't believed it.

After all, a century ago, Britain had been crawling with Dark wizards, vicious magical beasts, and rebellious Goblins bent on killing wizards.

Their presence had taken a heavy toll on the younger generation of wizards.

One expert had reported that out of ten promising young wizards, perhaps only two and a half would manage to grow up.

Why half?

Because the remaining young wizards could be put together to make half of one!

That was exactly why, while investigating Ancient Magic, Glenn never passed up an opportunity to reduce the number of wizard casualties.

As a result, Dark wizards who had once been all over the streets were now hard to find. Forget catching one in public—even finding a fragment of one was difficult.

And the vicious magical beasts that had once been as numerous as the sea—unless they were in the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, this generation of wizards could only see them in textbooks.

As for the rebellious Goblins... quite a few of them had actually opposed Ranrok, the leader of the Goblin rebels at the time. So Glenn hadn't been too ruthless; he had only wiped out the more stubborn and dangerous ones.

It might have looked as if he had nearly wiped out an entire generation, but the Goblins were actually doing quite well.

At the very least, they were still allowed to manage Gringotts in what was supposedly the most—thorough manner possible.

By rights, the new generation of wizards after him should have had more room to survive and ample time to grow.

At the very least, things ought to have been flourishing, with all living things thriving!

But when he thought of the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor he'd just seen, reeking of garlic, and remembered how the British Wizarding World had nearly been slaughtered by a Dark wizard more than a decade ago, Glenn couldn't help feeling that its future looked bleak.

But soon, he took a deep breath and rallied his spirits.

"Maybe this is just an exception. After all, sometimes the gap between one wizard and another is even greater than the gap between a wizard and a Muggle."

The same went for Dark wizards.

Maybe that wizard called Voldemort was much stronger?

Just as Glenn was thinking this, a commotion broke out at the table beside him.

"Malfoy! Give it back!" Harry and Ron shouted almost at the same time.