The mood at the table had grown noticeably subdued after the talk of Professor Kettleburn's impending departure.
Several rounds of drinks later, Douglas leaned in close to Professor Aurora Sinistra, the Astronomy professor, and whispered about his plan: when the first snow fell, they'd have a hotpot feast up in the Astronomy Tower.
The Astronomy Tower was the highest point in Hogwarts Castle, only reachable by climbing a steep, winding staircase. Professor Sinistra held her midnight classes there, teaching students to chart the stars beneath the velvet sky.
Back in his student days, Douglas had once sneaked up to the tower on a Saturday night with Bill, Charlie, and a few others for a hotpot party. Unfortunately, that was the very night Professor Sinistra had decided, on a whim, to stargaze. They'd been caught red-handed—but thanks to Douglas's quick thinking (and the irresistible aroma of simmering broth), he'd managed to win her over and avert a catastrophic point deduction for both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.
Professor Sprout's cheeks were already flushed with drink. Raising her glass to Douglas, she gave Professor McGonagall a hearty pat on the shoulder.
"Minerva, I do believe the House Cup is finally coming home to Hufflepuff this year! And we've got Douglas to thank for it!"
At that, the other two Heads of House turned to look at Douglas in unison.
He froze, then managed a wry smile.
"Professor, I thought we agreed to keep that under wraps for now!"
Professor Sprout arched an eyebrow, grinning.
"Oh, let the whole castle know! I want Hufflepuff to win fair and square. Besides, did you all hear? Douglas gifted the entire Hufflepuff Quidditch team a full set of Nimbus 2001s. The lads were over the moon this morning! They've sworn up and down they won't let Professor Holmes down, and that this year's House Cup is ours."
Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick exchanged a look.
Flitwick swirled his drink, frowning slightly.
"If memory serves, Slytherin got their own batch of Nimbus 2001s—courtesy of the Malfoy family, no less. Pomona, surely you see the… complications here? Not that I'm jealous, mind you—Ravenclaw remains Hogwarts' finest team, even without the latest brooms. But this could bring Douglas some unwanted attention."
Professor McGonagall gave a cool snort.
"Gryffindor is Hogwarts' best team, and a flying broom is only as good as the witch or wizard riding it. Skill is what matters—don't forget, we have Harry… Still, Douglas, you were a bit reckless this time."
Douglas wasn't just their former star pupil; now he was their colleague as well. Even if, in their hearts, they suspected he'd only be around for a year, none of them wanted to see him forced out over some ridiculous political squabble.
Professor Sprout, tipsy and beaming, declared,
"Who said Douglas was sponsoring us? He's simply making up for all the trouble he caused Hufflepuff back in the day! I don't know where he got all that gold, but he's one of the rare few who still remembers his alma mater and gives back. That's worth a toast!"
She raised her glass, and Douglas hurried to clink his against hers, then nodded gratefully to the other professors. "Thank you, all of you, for standing up for me."
The other professors, though still puzzled as to why a donation of a few Nimbus 2001s could be dangerous, smiled and joined in the toast. Professor Kettleburn in particular downed a hearty glass—after all, among those present, only Sprout, Kettleburn, and Douglas hailed from Hufflepuff. The first two knew all too well just how tight Hufflepuff's finances had always been.
Hogwarts' funding came from the Ministry of Magic, pure-blood families, and donations from prominent alumni. While all donations were pooled and distributed by the Board of Governors and the Headmaster, the reality was that donors usually favored their own Houses, and that bias inevitably trickled down into the budget. Most Hufflepuffs, working in the middle or lower rungs of the wizarding world, rarely got involved in such matters. And with Hufflepuff boasting the largest student body, their share was often barely enough.
Not to mention Professor Sprout's legendary favoritism—she was known to quietly slip a few Galleons to her students when they graduated. It was no wonder she was the only Head of House whose robes sported visible patches.
At that moment, Professor McGonagall flashed a sly smile at Douglas, then turned to Sprout.
"Pomona, aren't you even a little curious how Douglas managed to come up with over ten thousand Galleons so easily? Don't forget, he's Muggle-born. He's spent the last three years traveling, but has barely set foot in wizarding society!"
That got everyone's attention—even those who weren't usually the prying sort. After all, McGonagall herself was renowned for her discretion. If she was bringing it up, there had to be more to the story.
Professor Sprout was the first to react, bristling like an angry honey badger.
"Minerva, I don't care how this child came by his money. If he doesn't want to tell us, I trust he has his reasons. And I'll say this—no Hufflepuff student of mine would ever turn Dark! You should trust your own students, too!"
Professor Flitwick quickly stretched his arm across the table to pat Sprout's shoulder.
"Pomona, calm down. Minerva didn't mean that. Douglas a Dark wizard? Impossible! I still remember how his Lumos spell could actually repel Dark magic. A student who can cast light like that could never be a Dark wizard."
Douglas could hear the subtle warning in Flitwick's words—he was smoothing things over, but also reminding McGonagall to tread carefully.
Before Douglas could think of how to respond, Professor McGonagall's expression turned grave. She ignored the others and addressed Douglas directly.
"Douglas, I know Albus has always insisted we respect your wishes. But there are some things you ought to know. Last week, Headmaster Dumbledore received a flurry of complaints from parents. Some even called him senile for passing over the famous Gilderoy Lockhart in favor of you."
She paused to glance at Flitwick.
"Oh—no offense, Filius, I'm not saying Mr. Lockhart isn't talented."
Then she continued, her gaze fixed on Douglas.
"Now, there's a storm of doubt outside these walls about your qualifications. Compared to previous Defence Against the Dark Arts professors, you lack the kind of fame that reassures parents—even if those others weren't always the most skilled. Since graduation, you've kept a remarkably low profile in the wizarding world. I'll admit, I didn't fully understand why Albus chose you for the position—at least, not until I noticed a certain book in his office the day before yesterday…"
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