Hogwarts Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Peter

Chapter 100 Muggle Mystery

After finishing talking with Dumbledore, Peter returned to his office. It was almost midnight, and the castle was quiet. There was no shadow of Peeves, only a row of armor standing silently under the dim moonlight.

Peter put his hand on the wand at his waist, gently holding the handle of the "Dragon's Breath". At this moment, Voldemort and his servants were gathering strength in the dark, Quelnas Quirrell, August Lew Kerwood, the two names swirled in his mind, but it was no use in finding them.

He came to the third floor of the castle. When he walked through the corridor, he heard a few whimpers. He lit his wand, quickened his pace, and came to his office door.

He found that Stanley Constantine was covered in green vines, hanging upside down from the ceiling, his mouth was stuffed with young leaves, and he had no strength to struggle.

Peter lightly tapped his wand, the vine retracted, and Constantine fell to the floor in embarrassment, breathing heavily.

"I told you not to come to my office, but luckily you just got a non-lethal defensive spell," Peter felt a little helpless, "otherwise I would have to collect your body for you, and I would have to write a lot of tedious accident reports. "

"I... I'm in the faculty lounge... I'm so bored..." Constantine said pantingly, forcing out a cynical smile, "There's only that ghost Professor Binns...he mistook me for a A student who gave a two-hour history of magic, starting with the Goblin Rebellion—"

"And then all the way to the present age?" Peter asked casually as he methodically lifted the protective spells one after another.

"Probably about No. 18 definitions of goblin rebellion." Constantine got up from the ground, patted the dust on the windbreaker, and lit a cigarette. In the dark, they could only see the fluorescent light on Peter's wand and The red dot of the cigarette.

"Okay, please come in." Peter opened the office door and invited Constantine to enter, and then he closed the door behind him and re-applied a dozen defensive spells to it.

Constantine looked around with great interest. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's office was bright and spacious, brightly lit. The house elves kept the fire alive, and Kreacher often came to clean it up.

"That's great," Constantine said with a big puff of smoke. "Being a professor is really different. Those of us on the Magic Education Committee can only live in those empty classrooms on the first floor. Ms. Umbridge has an office herself. There were fake cats all over the walls, even the wallpaper was pink."

He walked around Peter's office unceremoniously, with a cigarette in his hand, and looked at Peter's silver boxes and desk decorations.

"Miniature Quidditch balls? Is this the Chudley Cannons uniform? What a brain injury the guy who made this Quidditch ball thinks the Cannons can beat the Bats?"

"This little Christmas tree decorated with a Christmas tree is good, but the one next to it is not so good," he poked his finger at Fred's Christmas tree, and the ornaments on the tree immediately screamed hysterically, and Constantine scolded Say a dirty word and throw it away.

"This bag of Yuemei biscuits is damp." He threw the biscuits baked by Kreacher into his mouth. "Next time, if you have something good to eat, you can give it to me."

Constantine wandered to the silver box with seven locks. He was about to stretch out his hand when Peter, who had completed the defense arrangement, flicked his wand. With a snap, Constantine's hand suddenly retracted When he came back, the cigarette butt between his fingers fell to the ground.

"Don't touch it." Peter said loudly, and then he opened the chair opposite his desk for Constantine, and asked Constantine to sit down obediently, while he went around behind the desk and sat on his own seat , Banban ran out of the runner and got into his pocket excitedly.

"Would you like something to drink?" Peter said with a smile. "How about tea? Relish the aroma of young leaves in your mouth?"

"No need." Constantine lit another cigarette, "Fire whiskey is more suitable for me."

Peter waved his wand, and two goblets appeared in front of him. The glasses were filled with dark amber liquor. One of the cups pushed towards Constantine, "I hope you've found what I need."

"Of course." Constantine gulped down the flame whiskey, which aroused Peter's admiration. He put down his glass heavily, and continued: "But this matter can only be discussed after midnight, and it must be done under the protection of the magic circle." Down?"

"It must be discussed after midnight?" Peter has never heard of such metaphysical magic in the world. "Could it be that this kind of magic has a protective spell cast on it? As long as it is mentioned, it will cause disturbance in the magic space?"

"I don't know. You are the professor here. This is your field of study. I just got this knowledge from Muggle occult books." Constantine took the glass of wine in front of Peter and gulped it down. , and then he threw the half-smoked cigarette into a small layer of residual liquid at the bottom of the glass, and the liquid burned quickly.

Konstantin stood up, took out a handful of powder from his windbreaker pocket, and began to sprinkle it around the desk where the two were talking. He roughly drew a circle, and then scribbled some words around the circle with chalk. A mysterious symbol.

Five minutes later, Constantine finished the work, "Look, Mr. Peddie, Muggle magic can also be amazing." He stood in the center of the magic circle and applied a substance on his hands. Raising his arms slowly, his hands were burning.

"Is this the occult circle?" Peter looked suspiciously at the yellow and white circles and symbols drawn on the ground. The substance in Constantine's hand had been burned out, emitting a rather pungent smell.

"Yes, it's amazing." Constantine said, "I grew up in a working area of ​​Liverpool, and I was exposed to these occult books since I was a child. Later, Professor McGonagall brought me Huo in the form of a short-haired cat. Gewartz's acceptance letter, I thought it was my reward for sacrificing a black cat and making a wish."

"Excuse me, are you a Muggle-born wizard?" Peter asked.

"Maybe, I never met my mother, she died when I was born," Constantine replied casually.

"I'm sorry," Peter said, "I guess you're a Ravenclaw student."

"Congratulations, you guessed it right, but it's a no-prize quiz." Konstantin squatted down with a smile, and added some other mysterious lines in the middle of the circle, "'Extraordinary wisdom is the greatest wealth of human beings', La Wenclaw people are good at exploration, good at thinking, and better at giving money to themselves.”

Hearing Constantine's rare self-mockery, Peter smiled. He stood up from his seat and observed Constantine's chalk drawing up close, but he didn't find any signs of magic in it.

With a wave of his wand, a magical space covered the entire office. In the magical space, Peter was disappointed to see that the magic circle drawn by Constantine had nothing to do with magic. It could only be regarded as a creative chalk drawing at best.

(End of this chapter)