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Rumors about the professors always circulated through Hogwarts castle.
For instance, Professor McGonagall fought with Mrs. Norris when she turned into a cat; Snape was a vampire; Professor Flitwick's favorite book was Hogwarts, A History because it felt best under his feet; Professor Binns would fall straight through when trying to sit in his favorite chair; Professor Trelawney had predicted she would die from fright after predicting her own death, and had gone mad ever since... and so on.
As for Professor Sprout, according to rumor, she pulled secrets from tree hollows every night.
"Think about why she always wears patched clothes—it can't be that she hasn't learned the Mending Charm, right? She has to sew all the secrets into them," students said with certainty. "Hufflepuffs all know lots of secrets. Their Head of House must tell them."
This was half true. Professor Sprout did know many secrets, but contrary to rumor, she was an excellent keeper of them.
She only discussed certain matters with someone after confirming they'd already gathered enough information that they could figure it out on their own anyway.
After saying goodbye to Tonks, Anthony followed Professor Sprout to her office, where he obtained the contact information for a magical creature expert: Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank.
"She respects Hagrid very much, and like us, doesn't believe the Ministry's nonsense. I remember she tried to prove that if an Acromantula had caused a student's death, their body shouldn't have been so intact," Professor Sprout said. "But she's never been able to explain what the deadly creature in the castle could be, or where it would be. Your information should help her greatly. I never imagined that Myrtle was the victim..."
Anthony nodded understandingly. Both professors and students seemed to treat ghosts as part of the castle, never thinking they had once been alive, rarely curious about how they died.
"Thank you, Pomona," he said earnestly.
Professor Sprout was his first friend after entering Hogwarts. Though honestly, she was friends with everyone.
Anthony now completely understood why. Even though he and Professor Burbage shared similar professional and cultural backgrounds, and he respected her greatly, he found himself more relaxed around warm, cheerful people like Sprout.
This was quite rare. From Anthony's experience, his colleagues were often good people, but few became friends quickly.
"No need to be so formal," she said, somewhat surprised. "It was nothing."
Anthony encountered the investigation team again on his way back to his office. They were preparing to examine the dungeon classroom, hoping to find clues left by the perpetrator. The leader looked suspiciously at the materials in Anthony's hands but, out of respect for Professor Sprout, didn't approach to question him.
Passing students looked curiously at the investigation team, and some greeted Tonks. Tonks tried to keep a straight face, but her hair suddenly turned bubblegum pink with a pop. Students cheered, causing the leader and Auror walking ahead to turn and see what had happened.
"Sorry, habit," Tonks said, squeezing her eyes shut and turning her hair brown.
"Be more professional," the leader said impatiently.
"Do another one!" students in the corridor begged Tonks. "Do a double chin! You don't know how much fun our common room has lost since you graduated!"
The leader turned to leave. Tonks seized the opportunity to quickly close her eyes. A mass of flesh appeared abruptly under her chin. The watching students burst into laughter.
Anthony watched in amazement—he'd never seen a Metamorphmagus before. Now he understood what Professor Flitwick had meant about disguises.
Professor Quirrell happened to be coming down the stairs.
"Good afternoon, Professor Quirrell," Anthony nodded in greeting.
"P-Professor Anthony," Quirrell said. "Haven't s-seen you in a while." He glanced twice at the investigation team with suspicion.
"Ah, an investigation team from the Ministry," Anthony explained. "Here to ask if I let the troll into the dungeon classroom."
Professor Quirrell adjusted his turban, stammering, "W-was it you?"
"No," Anthony said, torn between laughter and tears, reminded of student complaints.
When you're an elective course professor with a reputation for "still not deducting points," your students occasionally chat during class, and you're forced to know a lot of school news.
He'd heard from students that Professor Quirrell's classes had become increasingly absurd lately, and the man increasingly neurotic. Once he'd even burst into laughter in a fourth-year class, shocking all the distracted students, then started sobbing.
"Even his laughing and crying stutter," the Gryffindor had said rather unkindly at the time. "If gaining knowledge and improving patience count as learning, then we actually learned something in that class."
His classmate tried to defend Quirrell. "At least he proved he has some skill... think about the tissue box he summoned while crying. He easily used a nonverbal Summoning Charm."
They'd debated Quirrell's magical ability and teaching skills for a while, finally agreeing unanimously that excessive garlic could drive people mad.
The investigation team naturally noticed this garlic-scented professor too.
After hearing Quirrell was the first to discover the troll, the leader immediately invited Professor Quirrell politely to the empty classroom to describe the scene, to help them find evidence proving "dark wizards are plotting something at Hogwarts" (he stared hard at Anthony while saying this).
Quirrell walked trembling into the classroom with them.
According to gossip from students—Anthony marveled at their enthusiasm and speed in gathering information unrelated to studies—Professor Quirrell emerged quickly. His stammering account, timid behavior, and strong distinctive smell had clearly impressed the investigation team, just as they did every student in Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
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