Professor Binns's Quest for Back Pay

China's Ghost Festival fell on the fifteenth day of the seventh month, while the Western Halloween was on November 1.

Every year, Hogwarts held a holiday feast on October 31—Halloween Eve. The Great Hall would be transformed with eerie "screensaver imagery": bats, jack-o'-lanterns, and thick, roiling clouds.

It was a festival for ghosts, and Zhang San's identity at Hogwarts was that of a special ghost. So, on October 31, Zhang San received holiday gifts from his classmates—candy, more fucking candy.

Children dressed up as all kinds of monsters and went door to door for candy on this day. Zhang San did not even need makeup; just being himself made him the brightest kid around.

"Wow! Siri, you got an invitation to the ghosts' feast? That's so cool!" Harry Potter said enviously as he leaned over to glance at the ghostly letter in Zhang San's hand.

That was a feast for ghosts. It had to be full of mystery.

Zhang San shook his head. "I bet you wouldn't be able to handle what a ghost party looks like... Hogwarts ghosts have lost the ability to experience the world through their senses, so they can only stimulate their minds with all sorts of bizarre things."

Harry Potter was utterly confused. "So?"

"So the food at a traditional ghost feast is incredibly, incredibly horrifying... If you saw it, you probably wouldn't be able to eat anything for days," Zhang San said.

Harry's expression shifted slightly. "Huh? Is that so?"

"Of course. But this year's feast may undergo some changes. I can't stand that sort of scene, so this year's ghost feast is getting a new twist," Zhang San said with a sigh.

Ghosts could not enjoy food meant for the living, but they could digest the offerings Zhang San transformed.

The taste of those offerings could bypass the senses and nerves, reaching straight into the soul and allowing ghosts who had been dead for who knew how many years to taste food once again.

To ghosts, it was comparable to being reborn, bringing vitality back to their once lifeless souls.

Zhang San had gained quite a reputation among the ghosts through his offerings. Even if he called himself the provider of food and clothing for Hogwarts' ghosts now, not a single ghost would object—because that was simply the truth. If the ghosts wanted something good to eat or a change of clothes, they had to ask Zhang San for help.

After eating Zhang San's offerings imbued with the power of incense, the ghosts had regained a considerable amount of their sanity.

The ghosts of Hogwarts were all ancient wizards, and their minds held a great deal of precious magical knowledge. For instance, Bloody Baron had been a Hogwarts student during the era of the Four Founders, so the ancient magic he had learned was absolutely authentic and unadulterated.

If the magical knowledge possessed by the ghosts could be organized and passed down, Hogwarts' inheritance of ancient magic would become even richer.

After the ghosts regained their basic rationality, Professor Binns, who taught History of Magic, went completely off the rails in order to taste a wider variety of food. He added a new procedure to his class: before lessons began, students had to burn incense for Zhang San and sincerely pray in their hearts that they would not fail History of Magic.

The old Professor Binns had been like a program, without wants or desires. This new version of Professor Binns was more human, but he truly did things in the most absurd way possible.

The one suffering the most was Headmaster Dumbledore. The miraculous Professor Binns had written him a letter demanding three hundred years' worth of unpaid wages for teaching after his death.

Headmaster Dumbledore nearly had a heart attack when he saw the letter. A ghost professor writing to demand back pay—it was absurd beyond absurd, absurdity opening the door for absurdity itself: absurd all the way home.

No Hogwarts headmaster over dozens of generations had ever witnessed such a surreal scene, yet Dumbledore had encountered it near the end of his career. What an honor!

Headmaster Dumbledore was a reasonable man. He felt that, both emotionally and logically, Professor Binns ought to be paid. Hogwarts professors received salaries. They could not withhold Professor Binns's wages for no reason just because he was a ghost.

The school could play dumb and refuse to pay when Professor Binns did not ask for it. But now that this diligent ghost professor had come to demand his wages with a clear attitude and firm wording, continuing to play dumb would be downright shameless.

So Dumbledore made a sweeping signature and went to the board of governors for money. Hogwarts' expenses did not come out of his own pocket anyway. There was a group of deep-pocketed governors donating money and supplies, so it was not Dumbledore's turn to feel the pain.

When the governors saw Dumbledore's letter, they were all baffled. A ghost professor wrote to demand back pay? What kind of bullshit was that! Had Dumbledore taken too much for himself and drained Hogwarts' funds, so he was now making up some excuse to fleece them?

Fleecing them was fine, but could he at least put some thought into the excuse? Otherwise, it would make them governors look like idiots, wouldn't it?

Dumbledore neither confirmed nor denied the governors' questions. He said that if any governor did not believe it, they could come to Hogwarts personally and speak with Professor Binns face-to-face.

Face-to-face it was. The governors arranged a time and arrived at Hogwarts' conference room as a group.

Hogwarts had a conference room, and it was lavishly decorated. It was simply seldom used and remained sealed most of the time.

There were many such hidden spaces within Hogwarts Castle. The professors normally sealed them with magic, only unsealing and using them when necessary.

Magic could clean a room in an instant, so there was little need for regular maintenance. Besides, the house-elves could Apparate throughout the castle and occasionally come in to clean.

A major activity for older students sneaking around at night was breaking the sealing spells the professors placed on walls and doors. Anyone who could undo a professor's spell would be treated like a hero, and that student would gain the right to use the mysterious room—many clubs acquired their activity rooms this way.

Bill was one of the best at it, so after graduating, he immediately found work at Gringotts as a curse-breaker. All his finest skills had been honed at Hogwarts.

Once the governors had taken their seats, Hogwarts' treasured fixture and the immovable professor of History of Magic—ghostly Professor Binns—passed through the wall and entered.

The current Professor Binns felt remarkably alive. He was nothing like the mechanical and rigid figure the governors remembered from their school days, when he could only recite History of Magic straight from the textbook.

Professor Binns gracefully opened a ghostly book—Zhang San had given it to him, and it was titled Complete Collection of Magical Legal Provisions.

"According to magical law, Hogwarts professors are entitled to salaries, lodging, and various other basic benefits. I have taught at Hogwarts for over three hundred years, yet I have received less than one hundred years' worth of wages," Professor Binns argued with reason on his side.

One governor spoke up. "But Professor, you are a ghost. Even if we give you Galleons, you have nowhere to spend them."

Professor Binns stared at him with a deathly gray expression. "You are Hector Fawley, aren't you? I once had dinner with your ancestor, Laird Fawley. I think I could publish some anecdotes about the Fawley family in my spare time to supplement my empty wallet."

The governor looked embarrassed. Heavens above, Professor Binns could recognize people now!

Even more outrageous, Professor Binns had threatened him outright. Every wizard who had attended Hogwarts knew that Professor Binns was a half-dead History of Magic textbook. If this professor remembered everything that had happened while fully awake, then whatever he wrote would become unquestionable history!

After exchanging glances, the governors reached the same decision in their hearts—pay him! Pay him immediately! Pay him a lot!

They absolutely could not let Professor Binns run short of money. Otherwise, anything this gentleman casually wrote could bring shame upon their families.

They had truly seen a ghost. When had Hogwarts become so absurd? Everyone turned to look at the current headmaster, Dumbledore, their gazes seemingly saying, How are you, an old man, so good at stirring up trouble?

Headmaster Dumbledore spread his hands innocently. Would you believe me if I said this had nothing to do with me?