A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 177: Outburst of Magic

Chapter 177: Outburst of Magic

Felix Harp inquired, "Potter, are you here in Diagon Alley to buy books?"

Harry appeared somewhat uneasy, responding with hesitation, "Uh, I'm currently staying in Diagon Alley... at Room Eleven in the Leaky Cauldron..."

He couldn't very well mention that he had accidentally inflated Aunt Marge and was now homeless, having been arranged by Minister Cornelius Fudge to stay at the Leaky Cauldron.

Felix found Harry's demeanor peculiar and probed, "Just you?"

While there were certainly other lodgers at the Leaky Cauldron, it was clear that Harry understood the professor's implication. "Yes, just me," he quickly added, attempting to divert attention. "I quite enjoy being on my own, browsing shops, eating, doing homework at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor... Oh, and I have Dobby keeping me company."

Felix smiled, "If I remember correctly, he should be working at the Leaky Cauldron?"

Seeing that Professor Harp didn't press further, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He responded enthusiastically, "Exactly, Dobby is at the Leaky Cauldron. He's been waking me up these past few mornings, but he's probably busy attending to the patrons right now."

As they walked and talked, Harry shared more about the rather quirky house-elf.

"Dobby sent me a birthday present and a card! He mentioned he earned it himself, and I've been curious about where he's been working—I didn't see any mention in the letter. Turns out it's the Leaky Cauldron—" Harry suddenly realized, turning his head to Felix in astonishment. "Professor, how did you know?"

Felix replied succinctly, "Dobby and I are friends. We talked about it."

Harry nodded, and then Felix asked, "So, you saw me while you were shopping? Quite coincidental. If I had left a minute later, you might have missed me."

Harry explained, "Actually, I saw your Patronus—the silver sparrow—Hermione mentioned it to me. I thought it resembled that, so I waited near the shop for a while."

"Is that so? Your observation skills are keen," Felix's response was somewhat absent-minded, his attention fully focused on Harry himself. From a different perspective in the world of distinct black and white, the magical energy within Harry was continuously flickering, unusually lively.

"Professor?"

Harry sensed his gaze, and Professor Harp was looking at him with a scrutinizing expression, making him feel uneasy.

"Potter," Felix murmured softly, "this must have had quite an impact on you..."

Harry stood frozen, stuttering, "You, you know about it?" His heart turned cold, and he hurriedly explained, flustered, "I didn't mean to, it's just that Aunt Marge insulted my parents first, and I couldn't stand it!"

The professor wouldn't think poorly of him, right? He had just bought a textbook on Ancient Runes yesterday.

"No, you've misunderstood, Potter."

As they passed through the wall, leaving Diagon Alley, and arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, Felix heard a sharp greeting, "Dear Mr. Harp, Dobby never expected to see you and Mr. Potter at the same time. Truly a day worthy of celebration!"

The gazes of the others in the pub turned their way, and they began to chatter excitedly.

Felix looked back calmly, his voice lowered as he gazed at the house-elf, "Dobby, it's been a while."

Dobby's eyes widened, and he wiped his eyes with a dirty cloth, "Oh, Mr. Harp remembers Dobby. It's so touching..."

"Dobby, please arrange a private table for us. Potter and I need to talk," Felix looked at him gently.

"Dobby understands. Please follow me, gentlemen."

The house-elf led them to a relatively secluded table, providing them with food and drinks before respectfully withdrawing.

Harry looked at Felix with a somewhat puzzled expression. He remembered the Knight Bus ride, being caught by Minister Fudge at the pub's entrance. This was the same spot they had sat down to talk.

Felix didn't rush to speak; he pondered how to initiate the conversation.

Harry stared at the wanted poster hanging on the column to his right. After spending two days at the Leaky Cauldron, he had become very familiar with that painting.

"Potter—"

Professor Felix Harp's words brought his consciousness back to his body, and he listened quietly.

"I've heard you enjoy Dueling class?"

"That's right, Professor," Harry said. "I find the class really great, and I learn a lot from it. It's just that it's only every two weeks, and some spells are quite difficult."

"Even I'm not proficient with the Impediment Jinx yet..."

Felix nodded. "So, do you need some personal tutoring time, Potter? I'd be more than willing to assist."

Harry was taken aback. He hadn't expected such an offer, to the point where he almost couldn't believe it.

Ever since he accidentally inflated Aunt Marge, people he knew seemed to have changed strangely. Dobby was adeptly attending to the pub's patrons, Minister Cornelius Fudge turned a blind eye to his legal violation, and now, even Professor Harp was offering to train him?

"I'd be delighted, of course, but why?" He asked cautiously.

"Potter, to put it frankly, your current state is quite fascinating—your magic is in a highly active state. From my perspective, it's like a cluster of flames constantly leaping and burning."

"In short, I believe it's of research value."

Felix decided to tell Harry directly; there was nothing to hide about the whole situation—except that it sounded a bit odd that he wanted to study Potter.

But in another light, wouldn't it sound better if he said he was caring for a young wizard in a special condition?

Harry swallowed nervously. "I don't quite understand what you mean."

"Harry, if I'm not mistaken, you've recently experienced a magical outburst?"

"A magical... outburst?"

"You might have heard similar terms—magic going awry, magic awakening, magical outbursts... Many consider it a sign of childhood or young wizardry, but in truth, it's always there. Sometimes, due to intense emotional fluctuations, young wizards display various magical powers."

Harry listened quietly, his memories returning to a few days ago. His aunt, Marge, had come to visit while he was looking after the dogs in the countryside. She was a rather rude and unkind woman; these two words couldn't even describe a tenth of her character.

Every time she visited, it turned into a nightmare for Harry.

But to get Hagrid's signature, he endured her verbal insults for a whole week. On her final day as a guest, she got outrageously drunk, became unrestrained in her speech, and callously insulted his parents, which infuriated him.

He didn't have his wand with him, but he was a wizard. By the time he snapped out of his rage, Aunt Marge had swelled up like a balloon, similar to the massive pumpkin Hagrid had planted last year, except it was an ugly pumpkin with small eyes.

He stormed out of the house in anger and vowed never to return to Privet Drive. Only after he'd calmed down did he start to feel fear. He feared he might be expelled or even sent to Azkaban, surrounded by a bunch of dark wizards.

He had even contemplated a life on the run, evading pursuit by the Ministry of Magic, but he needed some money first. Things, however, always went beyond his expectations—just as he arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, he was apprehended by Minister Fudge.

Luckily, Fudge not only didn't hold him accountable but also arranged a room for him at the Leaky Cauldron. He made Harry promise to stay in Diagon Alley until the start of term and not return to the Muggle world without permission.

What reason did he have to refuse?

...

Professor Harp's voice seemed to come from a distant place. "But this sort of occurrence usually happens during childhood. Once young wizards start school, it rarely occurs. So, Potter, your situation is quite rare. Something extraordinary must have happened to you."

The professor didn't blame him; he understood himself...

Harry looked up, his tone light. "I agree, Professor Harp. When do we start?"

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