Chapter 52: Douglas — Who Brought the Novel? Confiscated!
"George, Fred—you'll never guess what you missed!"
"Do you know who the Banana-Loving Flat-Headed Brother really is?"
Voices buzzed across the Gryffindor table as the news spread like wildfire.
Defence Against the Dark Arts Office
Douglas stood by the window, watching the distant sky.
A dense flock of owls was flying toward Hogwarts, their wings forming a moving cloud above the castle.
He couldn't help giving himself an approving nod.
Good thing he had prepared for this.
After speaking with Slaine and the Daily Prophet reporter the previous night, he had immediately cast a spell to conceal his name.
He had learned the trick while deciphering the Marauder's Map years ago.
The dramatic headline in the newspaper had also been his idea.
If he was going to reveal his identity, he certainly wouldn't do it quietly.
After comparing several options, he had discarded names like Harry Potter and Gilderoy Lockhart—currently some of the most talked-about figures in the wizarding world.
Instead, he chose the most provocative phrase possible:
"Mysterious Man."
After all, nothing captured a wizard's attention faster than those two words.
For that, Douglas silently thanked his senior, Tom—who had spent more than a decade making the title famous.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Douglas turned and opened the door.
Standing outside was Percy Weasley—looking unusually flustered.
"Good morning, Percy."
Percy took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down when he saw Douglas's relaxed expression.
"Good morning, Professor… Boss."
He hesitated.
"Boss, did something happen recently?"
"Why did you suddenly decide to reveal your identity?"
"Just last week you said—"
Douglas gestured for him to come in and handed him a plate with several large buns.
"You haven't had breakfast yet."
Percy took one automatically.
After taking a bite, his tension melted away.
"Not bad," he said appreciatively. "Meat filling."
"I haven't had time to visit the kitchens this term."
Douglas passed him a copy of the Daily Prophet.
"I suspect you rushed here so quickly that you didn't read today's paper."
"Take a look first."
Percy unfolded the newspaper casually.
The moment he saw the headline—
"Mysterious man?"
"—Ahem! Boss—water—water!"
He dropped the newspaper and clutched his throat as his face turned bright red.
Douglas flicked his wand.
A bowl of soy milk lifted smoothly from the tray and floated toward Percy.
Percy grabbed it desperately and gulped it down.
Douglas watched him with open amusement.
"Wow… I'm beginning to appreciate the power of those three words."
"Even the famously composed Percy Weasley managed to choke."
After reading the article properly, Percy sighed.
"This headline… it has to be Bill's style."
He knew it too well.
When Bill had organized a study group years ago, Douglas had dragged Percy along to recruit members.
The posters had used exactly the same exaggerated headline format.
Douglas poured himself a cup of tea.
"It's actually quite simple," he said.
"Let me ask you something."
"If Hogwarts hired a man named Tom Riddle as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, what would you think as a parent?"
Percy frowned thoughtfully.
"Well…"
"As a parent, I would trust Headmaster Dumbledore's judgment."
"But since I'd never heard of this person before, I would still keep a close eye on him."
"He would have to prove his competence little by little while facing the doubts of the entire wizarding world."
Percy looked up again.
"Your situation is similar, Boss."
"Parents don't know you yet, so naturally they doubt your qualifications."
"But there's one difference."
"Your other identity is famous and widely respected."
"So instead of spending years proving yourself, all you have to do is reveal that identity."
"Once people know who you are, the doubts will disappear."
Percy smiled slightly.
"Did I analyze it correctly?"
Douglas studied him for a moment before nodding.
"You're mostly right."
"But there's one small mistake."
Percy blinked.
"What mistake?"
Douglas smiled faintly.
"If Tom Riddle wanted to avoid suspicion…"
"All he would need to do is what I did."
"Tell everyone his other identity."
Percy laughed and poured himself another cup of tea.
"Boss, not everyone can spend ten years building a legendary pen name like you."
"Most people's real names aren't famous enough to help."
Douglas shrugged casually.
"It took me ten years."
"It took Tom Riddle several decades."
"You've heard his other name."
"Voldemort."
"—Pfft!"
Percy sprayed half his tea across the room.
The rest escaped through his nose as he choked violently.
"Cough—cough—!"
Douglas grimaced in disgust and handed him a packet of tissues from the Muggle world while silently cleaning the mess with a spell.
Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom
Later that morning, Douglas entered the classroom through the side door connected to his office.
Originally, today's lesson had been scheduled as a practical exam.
However, the seventh-years responsible for maintaining the practice classroom had been too busy.
So Douglas postponed the practical exam until Saturday morning.
Surprisingly, none of the students objected to sacrificing two hours of their weekend.
Most of them were secretly grateful for the extra five days to review.
When Douglas walked into the classroom carrying a stack of parchment—
The room fell silent.
Then suddenly erupted into thunderous applause and cheering.
Vincent Dinah, the aspiring journalist, rushed straight to the podium with a book in hand.
"Professor! Could I get your autograph?"
"I admire you so much!"
"And could I interview you as well—"
Before she could finish, Shirley—the Ravenclaw class representative—dragged her firmly back to her seat.
Douglas gave Shirley an approving nod.
Then he scanned the classroom.
Almost every student had something on their desk besides their textbooks.
Books.
Several of them.
And every single one was written by him.
Good heavens.
Had they mistaken his classroom for a book-signing event?
When his gaze passed over Shirley's desk, he noticed she had nothing except her textbooks.
Once again, Douglas silently praised his class representative's judgment.
Under his stern stare, the students slowly lowered their hands and sat quietly.
But their eyes still shone with excitement.
It was the expression people wore when they suddenly discovered their teacher was secretly a celebrity.
Douglas deliberately adopted a grim expression.
"Fifth-years!"
"Do you even realize what you're doing?"
"Celebrity worship!"
"Does this look like a class preparing for O.W.L. examinations?"
"I believe Miss Shirley already told you the results of your baseline test."
He snorted.
"The number of students achieving a strong score in this class is less than thirty percent."
"And worst of all—one of you actually failed."
A murmur spread through the room.
Douglas continued sternly.
"Next year, my Defence Against the Dark Arts class will have an entry requirement."
"Only students with an Outstanding grade will be allowed to apply."
"With your current results…"
Before he could finish, whispers erupted among the students.
"Lots of professors say that every year."
"But none of them are still here the next year."
"I hope Professor Holmes stays."
"It's rare to get a professor who's both talented and handsome!"
"Maybe—but everyone knows this position is cursed…"
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