After borrowing the book, Wade continued to ask questions. Professor Flitwick's book explained Charms in great detail, so he focused on spells related to Defense Against the Dark Arts, such as the Shield Charm, the Disarming Charm, the Impediment Jinx, and so on.
Anyone familiar with Hogwarts knows the level of its Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. Instead of telling him to consult Quirrell, Professor Flitwick answered his questions patiently and in detail, even lending him a few more books afterward.
Wade was very grateful.
Hogwarts is the only magic school in all of Britain. The professors there aren't evaluated on KPIs, nor do they publicly compare pass rates or excellence rates. They certainly don't have year-end reviews or performance evaluations. The professors truly teach based on their conscience; some are diligent and responsible, others just coast by, and some teach whatever they feel like, completely disregarding the fact that students still need to take their Wizarding Level exams.
After asking his questions, Wade remembered Griffiths' request and asked, "Professor, a portrait complained that its current location is too quiet and wanted me to help move it to a lively hallway. Would that be possible?"
Professor Flitwick asked, "Is it a portrait with a duty?"
Some portraits at Hogwarts serve as guards, like the Fat Lady's portrait outside the Gryffindor common room, and cannot be easily moved.
Wade thought for a moment. "I don't think so. It said it used to be in the main hall and was only moved to the Astronomy Tower to make room for other portraits."
"Oh, right, I know who you're talking about," Professor Flitwick said with a smile. "Griffiths was moved primarily because many portraits complained that it was disturbing their sleep, and it also incited Peeves to play pranks on Ministry of Magic officials inspecting the school. The Headmaster and professors at the time thought it needed a lesson, which is why it was moved to the quietest place in the entire school."
"So, its request..." Wade asked tentatively.
"Liking a lively atmosphere isn't a crime," Professor Flitwick said leniently. "As long as it promises not to incite Peeves to cause trouble anymore, you can move it. But the main hall probably won't work; many of the portraits there have issues with Griffiths."
...
"Ugh, fine, fine. But I really don't understand, why don't they like pranks? Pranks bring so much joy to people!"
Griffiths argued his case while darting quickly between the surrounding portraits.
"Hey, old man, I'm leaving!—Shalom, I'd be delighted if you wrote to me after your calculations, though I don't know if I'll receive it—Barry, and dear Francisco, thank you for your hospitality, this is a return gift!"
After taking down the portrait, Wade watched as Griffiths spun the stargazing old man's telescope 180 degrees, snatched the quill and ink from the bespectacled witch, then poured the ink on a naughty child's head and stuck the quill up another naughty child's nostril.
After annoying all the portraits, it swiftly darted back into its own frame and loudly urged Wade, "Hurry! Hurry!"
But what did spatial distance matter to portraits? Even though Wade had already carried the portrait out of the corridor, the figures in those other portraits still pursued Griffiths into its territory, pinning the red-haired wizard down and beating it up.
The bespectacled witch had never been so furious. She kicked Griffiths with all her might, screaming, "Do you know how long I've been calculating! How long!"
The naughty children seemed to treat Griffiths as a trampoline, bouncing and jumping on it, yelling loudly.
The stargazing old man finally caught up, hammered it twice with all his might, then seemed to have tweaked his back. He clutched his waist and returned with a pained expression.
Wade naturally couldn't interfere with the brawl among the people in the portraits. After everyone dispersed, he looked at Griffiths, who resembled a pile of mud, and asked helplessly, "You're about to leave, so why did you provoke such a beating? What was the point?"
"Haha, you don't understand." Griffiths rolled over, a footprint on its forehead, and lay on the grass in the valley, laughing heartily. "Isn't this the best farewell ceremony?"
Wade truly didn't understand.
Griffiths put its hands behind its head and looked at the sky. "I don't want to leave quietly, so they might not realize for a long time—'Oh, that red-haired fellow seems to be gone.' And I don't want the farewell to be sad and tearful. Having a good romp, and everyone being happy at the end—isn't that great?"
Wade pondered for a moment. "So, it's a world where everyone gains happiness, and only you get hurt? Is that it?"
Griffiths froze, then burst out laughing. "Wade, you have a sense of humor too!"
As it laughed, the chaotic scene in the portrait slowly returned to normal—the footprints on Griffiths' body disappeared, its torn robes were restored, the trampled flowers and plants straightened up, and the broken branches on the trees grew back.
Only the bruises on its face hadn't completely vanished.
"Griffiths, you must be a Gryffindor yourself, right?" Wade asked as he hung the portrait on the wall.
"Of course! Isn't that obvious?" Griffiths clung to the frame, trying to peer around. "Where is this place?"
"You can't go back to the main hall. This is the path from the Great Hall to the library, which almost all students pass through every day. It should meet your requirements," Wade said.
"Oh, nice, nice." Griffiths was very pleased.
In the corridor, some portraits quietly observed the "newcomer," some even huddling together and whispering.
Hermione happened to pass by, carrying a pile of books, accompanied by two familiar figures—Harry and Ron. The trio had probably just returned from the library and were arguing in low voices.
"I'd bet my Flying Broomstick that Snape let the Troll in! He wants to steal what's guarded by the Three-headed Dog," Harry said, holding his breath.
"No, he wouldn't!" Hermione said angrily. "You can't maliciously speculate about the school's professors like that!"
"Honestly, Hermione, you always think the school teachers are saints!" Ron said impatiently. "But I told you—I! Saw! It! With! My! Own! Eyes! When the Troll appeared, I went to find you two, and I personally saw Snape sneaking upstairs! Harry also saw Snape's leg bleeding profusely from a bite. Why do you ignore these facts and just believe him because he's a professor?"
"I believe him not just because he's a school professor, but also because of Dumbledore! If he were a bad person, Dumbledore couldn't possibly have failed to see it for over a decade!"
Hermione stomped off angrily, no longer wanting to argue with them. She called out loudly, "Hey, Wade, are you going to study? Let's go together."
"Uh—okay." Hermione's attitude made refusal impossible. Wade nodded at Harry and Ron, then turned and left with Hermione.
"—Unreasonable, isn't she?" Ron said with a frown. "Couldn't Dumbledore be fooled by Snape? Even Merlin has been tricked sometimes!"
Harry nodded silently; he remained convinced that Snape was the villain.
"Good afternoon, students!" A cheerful voice came from the wall. "You're all Gryffindors, right? I'm a Gryffindor too. I'm Griffiths, and you are?"
Ron said, "He's Harry Potter, and I'm Ron Weasley. We haven't seen you before, have we?"
"That's right, because I just moved here today!" Griffiths recalled. "Weasley and Potter, I seem to have known wizards with those surnames before. They must be your ancestors, right?"
"Really?"
Even Harry became interested now, and the two temporarily forgot their previous discussion, chatting with the portrait on the wall.
-----------
Machine Translation by: https:// randomtranslator.com/
Read ***+ original & fanfic translations in English, Español, Português, Deutsch, Français, or Русский
Or Translate for free at : https:// randomtranslator.com/translate
Join our Discord: https:// discord.com/invite/XXUR9nkjwa
-----------