Chapter 51: Thank You for Your Enthusiasm, Senior Tom
Ron shot Ginny an annoyed look after finishing his sentence. She had practically invited trouble with that comment.
Ginny stuck out her tongue in response. Then she noticed Harry glancing at her and quickly lowered her head, focusing intently on her breakfast.
While the Gryffindor table continued arguing, a rumour spread from the Ravenclaw table—that Professor Holmes might secretly be a Dark wizard.
Before anyone could debate the idea further, a sudden thunder of wings filled the Great Hall.
Some quick-thinking students hurriedly stuffed the remaining food on their plates into their mouths, as though the arrival of the owls might somehow interrupt breakfast.
Moments later, hundreds of owls burst through the doors and windows of the Great Hall.
They circled overhead briefly before swooping down toward their intended recipients, delivering letters and newspapers with impressive precision.
Ron glanced sideways at Hermione and froze in surprise when he saw that she had received a copy of the Daily Prophet.
"Hermione… since when do you subscribe to the Daily Prophet? Dad says they—"
Hermione cut him off sharply as she flipped open the paper.
"I subscribed last week. No matter what people say about the newspaper, it's still the only reliable way for students like us to keep up with what's happening in the wizarding world."
She sniffed.
"Especially for those of us who didn't grow up here and don't have wizarding relatives telling us everything."
Several students who hadn't subscribed crowded closer around her.
Hermione skimmed the paper quickly—then suddenly flipped back to the front page.
"I can't believe it," she said in disbelief. "It's the front-page headline!"
She cleared her throat and began reading aloud.
"Shock! The Identity of the Mysterious Author Revealed — It's Him!"
"Don't interrupt me. Let me finish."
"Last night, our publishing house received a message from Mr. Slaine, a well-known editor from Obscura Book Company. According to him, the author of Magic Chef, Full-Time Magician, and Master of All Occupations, known to readers as the Banana-Loving Flat-Headed Brother, has decided to reveal his true identity."
"It is widely known that this mysterious author has been named Best-Selling Author of the Year several times since 1982…"
"…His real identity is Professor Douglas Holmes, currently serving as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts for the 1992 school year…"
Harry had walked behind Hermione while she read. On the page beside the article was a photograph of a shadowy silhouette.
When the students first heard the phrase "mysterious man," many of them had instinctively thought of Voldemort.
Several gasps echoed around the hall.
But when Hermione finished reading and everyone realized the truth—
The Great Hall erupted.
Students shouted, cheered, and pounded the tables.
The noise rose so loudly that it nearly seemed capable of lifting the enchanted ceiling.
Their favorite author… was their professor.
Along with newspapers, many students had also received letters from home.
At that moment Draco Malfoy was holding one such letter.
Flanked by Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe, he strode toward the Gryffindor table.
While casting a disdainful glance at Harry, he announced smugly to his companions:
"My father has written to inform me that he intends to hold a grand press conference for Professor Holmes."
"He wishes to thank him publicly for taking care of me at school."
"And he has graciously allowed me, Draco Malfoy—the second-year Slytherin Defence Against the Dark Arts class representative and heir to the Malfoy family—to personally deliver the invitation to Professor Holmes as a sign of our family's respect."
Draco raised his chin proudly, then swept out of the Great Hall with his two followers.
Ron watched him go with a look of disgust.
He pinched his throat and imitated Draco's voice.
"Allow me, Draco Malfoy, the second-year Slytherin Defence Against the Dark Arts class representative…"
"Oh Merlin, that was sickening."
"Our Hermione is a class representative too, and she doesn't brag like that."
Then he snorted.
"If Professor Holmes heard that speech, he'd probably toss Draco into a cauldron and boil him eight times."
Harry frowned thoughtfully.
"Doesn't this seem strange?"
"Malfoy has always looked down on Muggle-born witches and wizards. I doubt his father thinks any differently."
"So why would the Malfoy family suddenly hold a press conference to praise Professor Holmes?"
He shook his head.
"There must be something going on."
Neville, meanwhile, had been reading the letter from his grandmother.
His eyes widened in surprise.
"My grandmother says Professor Holmes must be an incredibly powerful wizard."
"She said—"
"Ugh—!"
Before Neville could finish, a late owl suddenly swooped down from above.
It misjudged its landing and plunged straight into the milk jug in front of him.
Milk splashed everywhere, accompanied by a burst of feathers.
One stray feather flew straight into Neville's open mouth.
"Oh, not again!" Ron groaned.
He lifted the dripping owl by its legs and set it on the table.
Hermione quickly cast a cleaning charm to remove the milk stains from their robes.
"Honestly," she muttered, "Errol seems to love milk more than anything."
"Every time he arrives, he dives straight into the milk jug."
She remembered the exact same thing happening earlier in the year.
Ron examined the exhausted owl, who now lay sprawled across the table.
An ordinary envelope hung from its beak.
He sighed with relief.
"For a moment I thought Mum had sent another Howler."
Opening the letter, he scanned the contents.
"Oh—Ginny, I'll show you this after I finish reading."
"Nothing important. Mum just wants to know if it's true that Professor Holmes is the 'Banana-Loving Flat-Headed Brother.'"
He scratched his head.
"She also says our owl can't seem to deliver letters directly to Professor Holmes…"
Ron glanced at Errol.
"Poor fellow really is getting old."
Neville swallowed awkwardly, still tasting feathers.
"My grandmother mentioned something similar," he said.
"She said their owl couldn't deliver a letter to Professor Holmes either."
"She thinks the professor must have cast a spell that prevents owls from locating him by name."
"She said it's an extremely advanced kind of magic."
Hermione immediately fell into deep thought, mentally searching through every book she had ever read.
What kind of spell could block owl mail?
Ginny noticed Harry's uneasy expression and said quietly,
"Shouldn't the most important thing right now be warning Professor Holmes about the Malfoy family's plan?"
She glanced toward the doors.
"I think… we might already be too late."
Indeed, dozens of students had already stood up, letters in hand.
Some even carried books written by Professor Holmes, hoping to get them signed.
They rushed toward the staircase leading to the Defence Against the Dark Arts office.
But before anyone could climb the steps—
Professor McGonagall appeared.
"Where do you all think you're going?"
Her sharp voice froze them in place.
"Classes are about to begin."
"Is Professor Holmes leaving Hogwarts?"
"Or have you all decided that you no longer need to attend Defence Against the Dark Arts?"
Her gaze swept across the crowd.
"You will see Professor Holmes in class soon enough."
"Now sit down, finish your breakfast, and go to your lessons."
Under her stern authority, the students reluctantly returned to their seats.
They continued whispering excitedly.
At that moment two figures slipped quietly from behind a nearby staircase.
George and Fred Weasley crept toward the Gryffindor table.
Taking advantage of the commotion, they slid into their seats.
George looked around in confusion.
"What happened?"
Fred nodded vigorously.
"I feel like we just missed something worth ten Galleons."
Ron crossed his arms.
"Well, look who finally woke up."
"George and Fred—the heroes who got up before dawn to study."
Harry suddenly pointed at one of them.
"Fred… what did you eat? There's something red at the corner of your mouth."
Fred wiped his mouth quickly and glared at his brother.
"George! Why didn't you tell me?"
George grinned.
"Because you're the one who decided to pour chili sauce onto tofu pudding."
Ginny blinked.
"Tofu pudding?"
"What's that? I've never heard of it."
Hermione answered thoughtfully.
"It's a kind of dish. Apparently it can be eaten sweet or savory."
"I once heard some Hufflepuff students arguing about it."
"They said it's a specialty from their common room."
Then she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"Wait… how did the two of you get into the Hufflepuff common room?"
George and Fred shrugged innocently.
They exchanged glances and said together,
"We tried…"
"But unfortunately…"
"…it didn't work."
Then they quickly changed the subject.
"So what just happened?"
"We were in the kitchen—uh, I mean…"
Fred corrected himself hastily.
"We heard cheering from far away."
George brightened.
"Is Hogwarts closing for a holiday?"
Fred gasped dramatically.
"Oh no, George—that would be terrible!"
George nodded gravely.
"Yes… because that would mean…"
"…we'd have to spend weeks at home with Mum."
Ginny snorted.
"I'm writing to Mum and telling her you said that."
"Unless…"
Ron quickly pushed her aside.
"Alright, Ginny. That's enough.
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