It was infuriating.
But a mistake was a mistake. William couldn't blame anyone else for his lack of knowledge. After silently adding the study of memory magic to his agenda, he ignored Snape's taunts.
It was just a few words, not even as bad as the daily greetings of Azkaban prisoners, so it was no big deal!
William didn't even entertain the thought of comforting himself by imagining Professor Snape being bitten by a dog or being beaten by students in the future—a mistake was a mistake. He would learn seriously, not make the same mistake twice, and broaden his magical horizons. Being overly meticulous wouldn't help him survive.
Besides, the professors present didn't care about this—after all, William was a young professor, and even if he made a mistake due to inexperience, he could still be forgiven.
"The influence of the diadem?"
Dumbledore pondered for a moment, and the bandages on his chair easily came undone.
"Professor Kettleburn, please describe again how it felt to wear the diadem."
"Wonderful! It felt like all the things I'd forgotten over the years suddenly came back to me. My mind was even sharper than when I was young. I even had two or three brilliant ideas at once—" The old professor chuckled, moving his remaining hand and half-leg, without a hint of complaint. "I never had so many ideas even when I was young."
"Please, absolutely do not carry them out," Professor McGonagall said with a serious expression, not joking in the slightest. "You're about to retire. If you insist on conducting any unauthorized experiments, then the Halloween play that's been scheduled will have to be canceled."
A play?
Hadn't it been said that after the incident in the Hogwarts Great Hall, all forms of theatrical performances were strictly forbidden?
William couldn't help but gasp—what kind of promise had the old professor made to get Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall to approve a Halloween play?
"Relax, Minerva," the professor waved his hand dismissively. "I clearly remember what I promised. Before I retire, I won't be thinking about cultivating new species on campus. Those interesting ideas will be left for the next professor. Consider them a test I'm leaving for my successor."
"That would be excellent," Professor McGonagall's eyes were full of distrust, but the old professor ignored it. He hopped on his wooden leg in a few strides to William's side and put his only arm on William's shoulder.
"Little William, come, let's see what kind of distorted memory caused you to miss—" the old professor said kindly, beginning to search through the memory fragments in the basin.
All sorts of memories, after being magically processed by Professor Snape, played out at slightly faster or slower speeds. One could easily get dizzy if they weren't careful, but this didn't faze the original owner of the memories. "Tsk, tsk, I went through my past memories in such a short time? What a magical creation."
"Little William, look here," the old professor said, pulling out his wand. With a light tap, the memory fragment expanded dozens of times, becoming a barely visible image. "I have to say, that diadem is truly remarkable; it makes finding memories so easy."
The professor mumbled as he pointed at the figures in the image, introducing them to William. "Look here, Minerva and Albus are still young. Albus wasn't headmaster back then. The headmaster was that—there, Armando. He was the one who banned plays from being performed again, but now it's successfully revoked, isn't it!"
"Cough, cough," a very clear cough came from above. Only then did William notice that the top of the headmaster's office was piled with oil paintings.
"Professor Kettleburn," an oil painting that looked exactly like the person the old professor had introduced stared at the Pensieve. "Why don't you tell them why we canceled the play back then?"
The old professor uncharacteristically blushed. "Hmph, I can't be bothered to argue with you, Armando. Little William, look here."
The old professor tapped a memory in the image. It was Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall again, along with a group of new students. "Here, this is it, the memory before Armando was expelled. Something terrible happened in the castle then, those Slytherins—"
"Professor Kettleburn!"
Dumbledore, who had been silent for a long time, spoke with a serious tone, causing the old professor to quickly put away the memory image.
"Alright, don't rush, Albus," the old professor's tone softened uncharacteristically, as if he had been caught off guard.
"Don't worry, little William, I have another Pensieve over there. Later, I'll take you to see the dog that bit Snape."
...
William thought Professor Snape's face twisted slightly—but there was nothing he could do. Everyone in the school knew Snape favored his own students, but the old professor, being from Hufflepuff, had no fondness for Slytherin to begin with, let alone a professor like Snape who was overly biased towards Slytherin students.
"Albus, have you found any problems yet?" the old professor asked, acting as if nothing had happened.
"I'm afraid we have a problem—" Dumbledore's face was filled with a curious expression that shouldn't have been there. "I don't know who cast the magic on it, but the combined spells are more intricate than I thought. During my inspection, it didn't activate its alluring power at all earlier, but I have no doubt of its existence."
"Could it be that Professor Kettleburn is too strong, causing it to not dare to control him, fearing it might damage itself?"
William boldly offered a guess—if it was wrong, it was wrong. Inquiries about ancient artifacts, even knowing which guess is wrong, is valuable knowledge. Aside from the group in the Headmaster's office, elsewhere, discussions about the Ravenclaw diadem were limited to whether it was made of gold or silver.
"Not likely," Dumbledore easily dismissed William's guess. "Although I still haven't figured out how those spells are hidden, under my examination, I doubt I could withstand those curses."
"Even you can't withstand them?" William was a bit disbelieving. "Even the deceased Dark Lord wouldn't have that much power, would he?"
"Thank you for your trust, Professor William, but in terms of achievements in dark magic, I'm afraid—" Dumbledore said modestly, but then he stopped mid-sentence. "William, do you remember what Ms. Helena said when she gave you the diadem?"
"Of course, Professor. She once gave the diadem to Tom, and now that the diadem is back here, she intends to give it to me—that should be it, Professor."
"Minerva, please help me look up student enrollment lists from the past hundred years," Dumbledore quickly instructed. "Professor Kettleburn, please use the Pensieve to help recall that past event, yes, when Horace was still here, when we attended classes together."
"Oh, and Professor William, I apologize. I had intended to have a proper chat, but now we old folks are going to deal with some old business," Dumbledore smiled kindly, then took a bundle of bound feathers from his drawer.
"Fawkes is shedding a lot—approving bonuses requires approval from the Board of Governors, but I think you'll prefer these over Galleons."
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