Aside from the Daily Prophet, plenty of students also received letters from home that morning.
Draco Malfoy strutted into the Great Hall, a letter held high in his hand. Flanked by his ever-present shadows, Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe, he sauntered up to the Gryffindor table, shooting a smug glance at Harry Potter before announcing in a voice loud enough for half the Hall to hear:
"My father's written to say he plans to host a grand press conference for Professor Holmes, to thank him for all the care he's given me at school. And he's allowing me, Draco Malfoy, Slytherin's second-year Defence Against the Dark Arts class representative, to personally deliver this letter to Professor Holmes as the Malfoy family heir—a mark of the Malfoy family's utmost respect for the esteemed professor..."
With his chin raised and his followers in tow, Draco swaggered out of the Hall.
Watching Malfoy's retreating back, Ron pinched his nose and mimicked,
"'Allowing me, Draco Malfoy, Slytherin's second-year Defence Against the Dark Arts class representative... utmost respect for the esteemed professor...' Merlin's beard, that's just revolting. Hermione's a class rep too and you don't see her strutting around like that. And 'esteemed professor'—I bet if Professor Holmes hears Malfoy call him that, he'll want to dunk Malfoy's mouth in hotpot eight times for good measure!"
Harry frowned.
"Doesn't any of this strike you as fishy? Malfoy always looks down on Muggle-born wizards, and I'm sure his father's no different. There's no way he'd genuinely want to throw a party for Professor Holmes. There's got to be some scheme behind this."
Neville, eyes wide as saucers, finished reading his own letter.
"My gran says Professor Holmes must be a really powerful wizard. She says—oh! No! Ugh, bleh!"
As Neville spoke, a particularly late owl came wobbling through the Hall, then, as if drawn by fate, dove headfirst into the milk jug right in front of Neville. Milk and feathers sprayed everywhere, and a stray feather landed squarely in Neville's open mouth.
"Oh, not again!" he groaned.
Ron grumbled as he grabbed the bedraggled owl by its claws and pulled it out of the jug.
Hermione quickly cast a cleaning charm to banish the milk from her robes, muttering,
"Honestly, how much does Errol love milk? Every time he comes, he dives straight into someone's jug."
She remembered all too well that Errol had done the same thing to her at the start of term.
Ron glanced at the exhausted Errol, who was sprawled across the table with an ordinary envelope clamped in his beak. He let out a sigh of relief, took the letter, and opened it with lingering dread.
"Phew, I thought Mum was sending another Howler. Oh, Ginny, you can read it after me. Nothing exciting—Mum's just asking if it's true that Professor Holmes is the 'Banana-loving Honey Badger.' She also says our owl can't seem to deliver letters directly to Professor Holmes... Looks like Errol really is getting old."
Neville, still tasting feathers, added,
"It's not just Errol. My gran says our family owl can't deliver letters to Professor Holmes either. She reckons the Professor's hidden his name so owls can't sense or identify him. She says that's a really advanced spell—only very powerful wizards can do it..."
Hermione frowned, mentally flipping through every book she'd ever read, desperate to recall what kind of spell could achieve that.
Ginny noticed Harry's worried look and reminded them,
"Shouldn't someone be warning Professor Holmes about whatever Malfoy's plotting? I think... it might already be too late!"
Even as Ginny spoke, students were already clutching letters—or even copies of Professor Holmes's books—ready to make a dash for the Defence Against the Dark Arts office to ask for an autograph.
But before they could even reach the stairs, Professor McGonagall intercepted them.
"Classes are about to begin. What exactly do you all think you're doing? Is Professor Holmes leaving Hogwarts? Or do none of you need to attend Defence Against the Dark Arts anymore? You'll see him in class soon enough. For now, sit down, finish your breakfast, and get to your lessons!"
Intimidated by her stern gaze, the students slunk back to their seats, forced to keep their excitement to a whisper.
It was then that the missing Weasley twins—who hadn't shown up for breakfast—slipped out from behind the stairs in the entrance hall. Taking advantage of the chaos, they darted over to the Gryffindor table.
"What happened?"
"I feel like we just missed out on ten Galleons!" they exclaimed.
Ron shot them a look.
"Oh, so it's George and Fred, up before sunrise to study for once."
Harry pointed at one of the twins, startled.
"What did you eat? Why is there something red at the corner of your mouth?"
Fred wiped at his mouth, grumbling,
"George, you could've warned me!"
George cackled,
"Who told you to put chili sauce on your tofu pudding?"
Ginny asked, wide-eyed,
"Tofu pudding? What's that? I've never seen it before!"
Hermione chimed in,
"It's a kind of food—there's a sweet version and a savory one. I remember Hufflepuffs arguing about it in class once. I think it's a Hufflepuff specialty. Did you two actually sneak into the Hufflepuff common room?"
She eyed the twins suspiciously.
George and Fred exchanged glances and shrugged.
"We've tried..."
"...but sadly, never succeeded."
Quickly changing the subject, they pressed,
"So what happened? We heard cheering all the way from the kitc—uh, from really far away!"
"Is Hogwarts going on holiday?"
"Oh Fred, that's a terrible idea!"
"Yeah, it'd mean... facing Mum for weeks on end..."
Ginny sniffed,
"I'll tell Mum you don't want to see her! Unless..."
Ron nudged her aside.
"Alright, Ginny, enough. George, Fred, you'll never guess what you missed! Heh, do you know who the 'Banana-loving Honey Badger' is?"
...
Defence Against the Dark Arts Office.
Douglas Holmes stood by the window, watching as a veritable storm of owls swooped toward Hogwarts in the distance.
He couldn't help but congratulate himself on his foresight. After writing to Mr. Slane and the Daily Prophet reporter last night, he'd promptly cast a spell to hide his name—one he'd learned years ago while cracking the Marauder's Map.
And the headline for that Daily Prophet article? That was his handiwork, too.
If he was going to reveal his identity, he wasn't about to do it with some half-hearted statement. After weighing all the options, he'd decided to forgo the biggest names in the wizarding world—like Harry Potter and Gilderoy Lockhart—and instead chose the three words that would make every witch and wizard's heart skip a beat: "The Mysterious Figure." He'd shamelessly hitched a ride on the hype.
For that, Douglas offered his sincerest thanks to Senior Tom, who had labored for over a decade to make those words so infamous.
Knock, knock, knock!
Douglas turned and opened the door to find the ever-elusive Percy Weasley standing outside.
"Good morning, Percy."
Seeing Douglas so calm, Percy took a deep breath, steadying himself.
"Good morning, Professor... Boss. Boss, is something wrong? Why did you suddenly decide to go public? Last week you said—"
Douglas ushered him in, picking up a plate piled with steaming buns and offering it to him.
"Haven't had breakfast yet, have you?"
Percy accepted a bun, and seeing the relaxed look on Douglas's face, finally let himself unwind.
"Oh, nice—pork filling. I haven't had time to visit the kitchens this term."
Douglas handed him a copy of the Daily Prophet.
"I figured you were in such a rush you'd missed today's Daily Prophet. Have a look first, then we'll talk."
Percy took the paper and glanced at the front-page headline.
"Mysterious Figure? Cough—Boss... water... water..."
He dropped the paper, clutching his throat as his face turned bright red.
Douglas flicked his wand; a bowl of steaming soy milk poured itself from the pot and floated smoothly into Percy's hands.
Percy grabbed the bowl in a panic.
Douglas didn't bother to hide his amusement.
"My, my. I've always wondered just how much power those three words have. Even the ever-composed Percy can choke on them!"
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
Explore More Amazing Fanfiction on My Patreon!
Unlock 30+ Advance Chapters and Enjoy Exclusive Stories Early!
��patreon.com/GoldenLong