"Stuffing his scarf with garlic, Professor-do you really believe such a flimsy excuse?"
Douglas's voice rang especially clearly in the silent Headmaster's Office.
"I remember perfectly well that our third-year Defense Against Dark Magic textbook never mentioned vampires being afraid of that stuff."
"In fact, I once met one in Mexico who positively loved snacking on garlic."
His words were like precisely thrown stones, sending ripples across still water.
"So why don't we make a bold assumption?"
"Could this be Professor Quirrell's way of sending the outside world a distress signal?"
A clear flash of approval crossed Dumbledore's blue eyes before he gently shook his head, setting his long, silvery-white beard swaying.
"The smell of garlic may only be our conjecture. I think it is more likely to come from some powerful potion."
Douglas gave a brisk nod.
Fine. You're the headmaster. Whatever you say.
He reined in his sharpness and adopted an expression full of curiosity. Leaning forward slightly, he cautiously asked in a near whisper:
"I'm simply very curious, Headmaster. With your abilities, could you see through that thick scarf and look directly at whatever is on the back of Quirinus Quirrell's head?"
He distinctly remembered that Dumbledore seemed able to see through Harry Potter's Invisibility Cloak.
Wait.
A thought popped into his mind without warning.
If he really can see through things... wouldn't that mean that, during ordinary staff meetings, Dumbledore could turn his head and see...
Tsk, tsk. What a sight.
Dumbledore seemed to catch that less-than-respectful ripple of thought in the air.
"Ahem... ahem!"
The old wizard covered his momentary pause with a light cough.
"I'm delighted, Douglas, that you can speak Voldemort's name without fear, rather than using that substitute."
"Secondly, under certain specific-I mean, extremely urgent-circumstances, I can indeed see through some physical barriers."
"Naturally, this ability must never be used indiscriminately."
He paused, his gaze deepening behind his spectacles.
"Perhaps you ought to place sufficient trust in an old man."
"In fact, under normal circumstances, I have detected nothing beneath Professor Quirrell's scarf that warrants alarm."
Noticing that Douglas's gaze was growing increasingly strange, Dumbledore swiftly steered the conversation back on course.
Douglas's expression turned serious again. He nodded, his thoughts racing.
"Then that means Voldemort can conceal his form entirely within Quirrell, rather than appearing on the back of his head at all times."
"Otherwise, with your powers of perception, you would have discovered him the moment he entered the castle."
"There's another point. Even leaving Voldemort aside, given Professor Quirrell's own abilities, if he truly wanted to murder Harry Potter, surely he wouldn't choose to use a curse requiring sustained casting on the Quidditch Pitch, in front of the entire school?"
"That's practically one of the easiest spells to interrupt in a wizard's duel."
At this point, Douglas nearly tripped over his tongue.
He had almost blurted out that, having watched over a thousand episodes of Detective Conan, he could have devised a hundred cleaner, more efficient accidents if he were doing it.
But this was no time for that joke.
The old man opposite him still had a faint hint of scrutiny in his eyes, as though he suspected Douglas might be Voldemort's latest undercover agent.
After all, the position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts... had a rather poor reputation.
Over the years, Dumbledore had barely managed to keep the position filled through his reputation throughout the wizarding world and his extensive connections.
Apart from a certain gloomy Potions professor who had once expressed interest, almost no one volunteered to jump into that firepit.
After hearing Douglas's analysis, Dumbledore slowly nodded.
"Yes, it was unusually crude."
"By your reasoning, could this also have been a warning from Professor Quirrell?"
As he finished, the gaze Dumbledore directed through his half-moon spectacles gradually warmed.
In truth, Dumbledore had already reached a judgment when Douglas calmly spoke the name "Voldemort."
Someone who truly associated with Voldemort would, like the others, scrupulously avoid that name.
Those who feared the darkness would only flee it, rather than choose to stand in the light and face its name.
Of course, there was also the possibility that the old headmaster wanted to keep this young man, who had been quietly developing under an alias, right under his nose for observation.
After all, the last gifted student who liked adopting new identities after graduation had been named Tom Riddle.
That look made Douglas's skin crawl. Remembering certain rumors about the headmaster's sexual orientation only sent another chill through him.
Maybe... once the system activates, I should hurry up and find an excuse to get out of here?
Dumbledore seemed to notice Douglas's momentary discomfort and thought that perhaps he had reached his conclusion too soon.
After pondering briefly, he precisely extracted a sheet of parchment from a mountain of documents on his desk that looked ready to collapse at any moment.
With a light wave of his wand, some of the writing on the parchment dissipated like smoke. Then he picked up a quill, dipped it in ink, and began making revisions.
"Merlin's beard," he said conversationally as he wrote. "Douglas, I must tell you that my original choice for the position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts was another rather famous author..."
Douglas's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly at that.
Just as I thought.
Dumbledore noticed his fleeting expression and smiled, raising a hand to point at a colorful box of sweets on the corner of the desk.
"If you find life a little bitter, I recommend trying a Fizzing Whizbee."
"You can savor it while listening to this old man finish his story."
Douglas readily obliged.
He picked up a sweet and popped it into his mouth. A faint fizzing sound and an explosive sweetness spread through his mouth.
Dumbledore finished his revisions and set down his quill in satisfaction.
Folding his hands on the desk, he leaned forward slightly and continued:
"Of course, perhaps I overestimated the influence of this old face of mine."
"After receiving my letter, he politely declined my invitation."
"My original plan was to visit him in person and persuade him..."
"Oh, thank goodness Minerva reminded me that you had submitted an application to Hogwarts several months ago, for precisely this position."
"Only then did it suddenly occur to me: why not invite another author to give it a try?"
"Although he has always worked in the Muggle world under a pen name..."
At that, Dumbledore winked at him like a mischievous child.
He gently pushed the revised parchment toward Douglas.
"This is a letter of appointment for the primary teaching position in Defense Against Dark Magic at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, along with the relevant duties. You may look it over first."
Douglas's gaze settled on the parchment, a full two feet long.
It was densely covered in clauses written in elegant calligraphy.
His finger finally stopped on one line.
[...Mr. Douglas Holmes is hereby appointed Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts (temporary)...]
Douglas looked up, pointing at the jarring word, his eyes full of questions.
"Professor, this 'temporary' means...?"
Dumbledore seemed to have anticipated the question and showed no surprise whatsoever.
"Oh, quite plainly, exactly what it says."
"Mr. Holmes, I hope you understand. Although the authority to appoint and dismiss professors rests with the headmaster, considering your age..."
"Of course, I am not questioning your abilities."
"If I remember correctly, the last person appointed a permanent professor at twenty-one was Severus."
"However, Severus had already achieved recognized accomplishments in Potions at the time. Moreover, when Professor Horace Slughorn retired, he strongly recommended Severus as his successor as head of Slytherin."
"As for you, forgive my frankness, but apart from those bestselling books published under an assumed name, the brightest point on your résumé is merely your straight-O graduation results."
"You needn't worry," Dumbledore said gently. "This is merely an assessment period. It will also spare you some... well, unnecessary criticism from your colleagues."
"As long as you successfully complete this school year and earn the recognition of the students and other professors, the word 'temporary' will automatically disappear from this letter of appointment."
Douglas nearly rolled his eyes.
What do you mean, unnecessary criticism from my colleagues?
In all of Hogwarts, he could think of no one besides the man in the dungeons who would least want to see him in the staffroom.
He was also the only one with both the ability and the motive to trip Douglas up through Dumbledore.
Still, a "probationary period" was perfectly understandable.
Seeing Douglas nod so readily actually added a touch of surprise to Dumbledore's eyes.
He had even prepared a whole basketful of inspirational platitudes to guide this newcomer to the workplace.
He was young, after all. He ought to possess at least some youthful pride...
Especially this particular young man, who had hardly been well-behaved as a student.
Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles and delivered his final probe in a casual tone.
"In fact, I have another small suggestion, though it is not fully thought through."
"I could personally invite that author again, and have him serve alongside you as Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts this school year."
"I imagine that, as fellow authors, you would have much in common..."
"Of course, ultimately, your wishes must be respected."
Competing for a position?
Eliminating the lowest performer?
A wolf-pack corporate culture?
A string of distant yet familiar terms exploded like spells inside Douglas's head.
He could almost hear his boss from his previous life giving an impassioned speech at a mobilization meeting.
He had never imagined that, having escaped the nine-to-nine, six-days-a-week grind, he would still be unable to escape cutthroat competition in the magical world.
From East to West, from the Muggle world to the magical world, capital's scythe might arrive late, but it always arrived.
At that thought, Douglas sprang to his feet, chest straight, and declared in a ringing voice that was almost an oath:
"Rest assured, Comrade Headmaster! I firmly believe that I alone can teach Defense Against Dark Magic to all of Hogwarts!"
Before his words had even faded, he grabbed the quill and swiftly signed his name at the bottom of the appointment letter.
Hmph!
Once it's signed, don't think you can go back on it.
At the very instant the nib left the parchment.
A cold, mechanical, yet incomparably pleasant voice rang out deep inside his mind.
[Top Student Development System activated...]
Douglas let out a long, long breath, every muscle in his body relaxing.
Heaven knew how long he had waited for those words.
The last time the system had started up, it had only coldly given him a single notification.
[Condition for activating the Top Student Development System: formally take up a teaching position at a school. Countdown: two years.]
As a standard transmigrator, he naturally understood what that voice meant.
Although, at the time, he had silently roared at the sky for two hours.
Deep down, he had still felt a secret delight.
Transmigrators with cheats and transmigrators without them were not playing the same game at all.
Better late than never. It was just that these two and a half... no, two years were rather irritating.
Of course, as someone who had lived in the magical world for ten years, he also remembered Arthur Weasley's famous words.
"Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain."
At first, Douglas had even considered using Occlumency to resist this system of unknown origin.
Had his Muggle-born background not left him unable to find much material on soul magic, he might truly have plunged into that forbidden field of study.
In the end, faced with the countdown that rang in his mind punctually every morning, he had chosen to compromise.
First, leveraging his modest advantage in royalties, he had managed to get into a Muggle university in London.
Unfortunately, after a semester there, the system showed no response. All he had gained was the favor of a physics professor who wanted to train him as a laboratory assistant.
"My dear Holmes, I'd like to train you as my laboratory assistant..."
Those very words had sparked an idea in Douglas's mind.
Could the system's name mean exactly what it said?
"Development" could mean developing myself, but it could also mean... developing others.
Considering how long he had been out of touch with Muggle academia, he had ultimately decided to try submitting an application to Hogwarts.
Failing that, he would go to the orphanage where he had grown up.
He felt certain Director George would not mind his lack of a Muggle teaching qualification.
Seeing Douglas's relieved expression after signing, Dumbledore seemed to think of something.
Behind his half-moon spectacles, a mischievous smile lurked in those blue eyes.
He raised his wand and lightly tapped the air.
A silver phoenix made of pure light burst from its tip, circled gracefully beneath the office's domed ceiling, then dissolved into specks of starlight.
At that moment, Fawkes, perched in the corner, suddenly turned his head and let out a clear, piercing cry at Douglas.
Dumbledore explained with a smile:
"Fawkes is asking why you haven't brought him a present this time."
"In fact, since last time, I have expressly forbidden the kitchens from supplying you with that seasoning called Fawkes's Ashes."
"You know, he seems rather addicted to it, rather like Muggles smoking."
"So, Professor Douglas, while you teach here in the future, please don't feed him any more strange food!"
By the end, Dumbledore was even rubbing his temples.
He suddenly felt a little regret, wondering whether recruiting this restless fellow into Hogwarts had been the right decision.
Douglas also remembered the "feeding" incident that had nearly sent Fawkes into an early rebirth.
The corners of his mouth curled upward slightly despite himself, but he solemnly promised:
"Rest assured, Headmaster!"
Who said people stopped being young at heart after thirty?
Though at the time, Douglas's soul was already nearly forty years old.
P.S. The following does not count toward the main text's word count.
Spice blend: Fawkes's Ashes
Recipe:
Core ingredients (by weight):
Cinnamon (cinnamon bark): 30%
Frankincense (frankincense resin): 25%
Myrrh (myrrh resin): 25%
Storax (storax resin): 20%
Preparation steps:
Preparing the ingredients:
Remove the tough stems from the cinnamon bark and cut it into 1 cm pieces; use a knife to knock the frankincense, myrrh, and storax resins into small chunks (retain some texture rather than pulverizing them completely).
Place each ingredient separately in a dry frying pan and toast over low heat for 30 seconds (without oil), releasing the aroma while removing trace moisture-this step simulates "preheating with flames," allowing the spices to resonate with "fire" in advance.
Mixing and grinding:
Once the ingredients have cooled, place them in a grinder (or use a mortar) and grind them into a coarse powder (retain some small particles to help release layers of fragrance when burned).
Mix thoroughly, then seal in a dark glass jar and store in a cool, dry place (away from direct sunlight).
Kitchen uses: awaken food's "flavor of rebirth" with a "sense of burning"
The key to this spice blend is "using high heat to release a burning fragrance," rather than seasoning food directly. It is suitable for giving meat, root vegetables, or baked goods a special atmosphere:
Smoking meat:
When grilling steak or lamb chops, line the bottom of the grill with foil, sprinkle on 1-2 spoonfuls of "Phoenix's Ashes," then set a rack above it to hold the meat-the spices will slowly release smoke at high temperatures, coating the surface of the meat with a "woody smoke + sweet resin" flavor, as though it has been "kissed by a phoenix's flames."
High-heat stir-frying / pan-frying:
When pan-frying root vegetables such as pumpkin or sweet potatoes, add a little butter to the pan. Once melted, sprinkle in half a teaspoon of the spice blend, wait for the fragrance to burst forth (about 10 seconds), then add the ingredients and stir-fry-the sweetness of cinnamon and the richness of resin will permeate the soft, dense flesh, lending it a "warm, toasted fragrance."
Seasoning baked goods:
When making whole wheat bread or nut cookies, add 1 teaspoon of the powdered spice blend to the dough (sift out the coarse particles first). During baking, an aroma like "spices burning in a fireplace" will fill the oven, and the finished product will have a faint "divine sweetness," making it suitable for serving with hot tea.
A dipping sauce with a sense of ritual:
Mix the spice blend with Greek yogurt and honey in a 1:5:2 ratio to make a dipping sauce-the coolness of the yogurt balances the burning heat of the spices, while the sweetness of the honey echoes the "sweet fragrance of rebirth." Suitable for serving with roasted vegetables or flatbread, like "new food growing from the ashes."
How Fawkes uses it:
Hold a small mouthful in his mouth, ignite it with the flames in his mouth, blow smoke rings out of his mouth, then inhale them through the two holes in his beak, sending them to the olfactory bulbs once more.
Before you continue