"HP: Too Late, System!"Chapter 324: Douglas, Leisurely Watching Movies (Happy New Year)
Professor McGonagall sat at the staff table, her gaze sweeping over the lively throng of students. As the noise mounted, her lips pressed into a thin, uncompromising line. The sternness in her eyes seemed to cut through the din, chilling the air around her.
At last, she rose to her feet. With a precise flick, her wand tapped the rim of her goblet—a crisp, ringing sound that sliced through the chatter like a warning bell. Instantly, the Great Hall fell silent.
"In light of your... exceptional 'performance' at tonight's feast," Professor McGonagall began, her voice edged with unyielding authority, "every student is required to submit a report on this research trip. You are to detail the history, mechanisms, and potential impact on the modern wizarding world of each place you visited. The report must be at least twenty inches long and is due two Mondays from now. If you did not participate, you may consult with those who did."
A wave of groans swept across the hall.
At the far end of the Slytherin table, a senior student stood up slowly. He offered a polite, slightly sly smile as he bowed.
"Professor, the students of Slytherin maintained perfect decorum throughout the feast and refrained from any unruly behavior. Might we be exempt from this assignment?"
Professor McGonagall's gaze lingered on the Slytherins for a moment. A subtle glint of approval flickered in her eyes. She nodded.
"Very well. Slytherin students are excused from this assignment."
But Professor Snape, sitting nearby, let out a soft, derisive snort.
His dark, brooding eyes swept over his house. In his signature low, gravelly tone, he intoned, "Slytherin students do not neglect their pursuit of knowledge for the sake of small favors. All Slytherins will instead prepare a paper on the latest developments in Muggle pharmaceuticals and magical potions. Thirty inches, due in two weeks."
He paused, letting his gaze linger meaningfully. "If you need assistance, consult your Professor Holmes. I am quite sure he has plenty of time to explain the strengths and weaknesses of Muggle pharmacology in excruciating detail."
The smiles on the Slytherins' faces froze at once. They could only accept their fate with silent resignation.
It was only then that the students noticed: neither Professor Holmes nor Headmaster Dumbledore had been present at the feast.
Ron, his mouth full of chicken leg, mumbled, "Hey, did you lot notice? The Headmaster and Professor Holmes aren't even here tonight!"
Hermione frowned, giving Ron a light smack on the arm. "Ron, slow down and chew your food. But you're right, it's odd..."
She set down her utensils, concern creasing her brow. "Headmaster Dumbledore almost never misses a school event. Do you think something urgent happened?"
Harry propped his chin on his hands, looking thoughtful. "Maybe it's got something to do with the event at Godric's Hollow today? The atmosphere there felt... off. And Sirius wouldn't tell me a thing."
A hint of worry flickered in his green eyes, his brow furrowing. That place was his home now, and he'd been hoping to invite friends over during the summer to help fix it up.
Nearby, Fred and George exchanged a wicked look.
Fred raised an eyebrow and announced, "Maybe the Headmaster and Professor are off secretly inventing new magical sweets for us. Just imagine the surprise!"
George chimed in, "Yeah! Next class, maybe chocolate frogs will explode from the ceiling!"
Their wild gestures drew laughter from every direction—until a glimpse of Professor McGonagall's thunderous expression snapped them both to silence.
"Fred, George, that's enough!" Hermione scolded, glaring at them. "This is hardly the time for jokes."
"Oh, lighten up, Hermione," George teased, pulling a face. "Maybe they just went to a top-secret wizard party!"
He and Fred resumed their antics, undeterred.
Neville rolled up his sleeves. "Could it be news about Peter's escape?" he blurted, his voice rising with excitement. If the Head of House hadn't expressly forbidden the Gale Sword Society from bringing swords to meals, he'd probably be brandishing his blade on the spot.
Ginny patted Neville on the shoulder. "Calm down, Neville. If it really was him, it wouldn't be up to us anyway. The Aurors would never live it down if we beat them to it."
"Heh!"
A chorus of crickets followed—everyone remembered how, last time, they'd nearly trapped Peter, only for the Aurors' arrival to let him slip away.
—
London, at Douglas's home.
In the spacious living room, Headmaster Dumbledore stood quietly. His silver hair was neatly tied back, his long beard cascading over his chest. Deep lines etched his face, each one a testament to wisdom and experience.
His eyes, though tired, glimmered with curiosity and the hunger for discovery. Before him, an oak table was strewn with all manner of curious tools—some gleaming with the unmistakable glow of Muggle technology.
Brow furrowed, hands moving deftly, Dumbledore examined each component, pondering how to weave Muggle invention and magic together.
Sirius paced nearby, black hair tousled, leather jacket and black jeans giving him a roguish air. His boots thudded dully against the wooden floor. There was a wild cleverness in his gaze. Every so often, he'd pick up a component, scrutinize it, and then launch into an explanation for Dumbledore.
He picked up a small metal gear, pointing at its teeth. "Headmaster, see this? It's the key bit Muggles use to control film speed. The precise mechanics make sure every frame is captured cleanly, and when you play it back, the images flow smoothly—so you get proper moving pictures."
He mimed the gear's rotation, pride and familiarity shining in his eyes.
Dumbledore leaned in, following every movement, nodding thoughtfully as he absorbed the explanation.
Next, Sirius picked up a lens. "Now, this is where it gets really magical—well, Muggle-magical. By adjusting the arrangement and distance of the lenses, you change the angle of refraction, letting you focus and zoom. Muggles use these optical tricks to create all sorts of stunning images."
His voice brimmed with admiration. The more he learned about the Muggle world, the more he realized their technology was every bit as intricate as alchemy.
When Sirius finished his demonstrations, the room fell into a brief, companionable silence.
Both men turned to glance at Douglas, who sat at a computer, sipping tea and watching a film.
For the sake of research, they'd bought a stack of DVDs, and Douglas had—reluctantly, or so he claimed—been revisiting these classic movies.
Catching their gaze, Douglas replied with a languid smile, "I'm just the consultant. You can't expect the consultant to jump in at the very start, can you?"
Dumbledore rubbed his temples. "Then why didn't you attend the school feast? There's nothing here for you to do."
Douglas blinked. "Because this is my house! Honestly, I'm just worried you'll blow the place up fiddling with Muggle gadgets. Consultants are for cleaning up after the mess."
Dumbledore (-@y@)
Sirius (ｰ̀дｰ́)
Their eyes slid toward Dobby, who was diligently making notes in a little notebook.
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