HP: Too Late, System! I’m Already the DADA Professor

Mr. Granger smiled warmly.

"That's wonderful! I really ought to learn from Professor Holmes's parents—maybe then we could raise Hermione to be as outstanding as you..."

Before he could finish, Mr. Weasley interrupted with a hasty cough, leaning in to whisper,

"Ahem... Douglas's parents passed away before he ever came to Hogwarts..."

At once, Mr. Granger's face flushed with embarrassment and regret. He hadn't meant any harm—just hadn't expected that, after so little time in the wizarding world, he'd already put his foot in it with his daughter's teacher.

He stammered,

"I'm so sorry, Professor Holmes... I truly didn't know..."

Douglas quickly offered reassurance, while Arthur chimed in about Douglas's kindness and good character. It took some effort, but eventually the Grangers' anxiety eased.

"Oh, Mrs. Granger, please don't worry," Douglas said gently. "I'm quite sure Hermione will become a remarkable witch in her own right..."

As the adults chatted, Harry and the others who had been off by themselves wandered over. Spotting Douglas among the group, each wore a different expression—some curious, some awkward.

The Grangers pulled Hermione over and, with obvious pride, introduced her to Douglas. They might not have known exactly how brilliant their daughter was at school, but the fact she'd memorized so many textbooks over the summer was more than enough to fill them with pride.

Soon, Mrs. Weasley emerged from the crowd, cheeks flushed and triumphant.

"Oh, you're all here! I'm so delighted—just look, Gilderoy's very own signature! I thought you'd all be interested..."

In the distance, Douglas caught sight of a familiar figure—Lucius Malfoy. He remembered Lucius well, especially from his own early days at Hogwarts. Back then, Lucius had made frequent appearances in the Daily Prophet, trying to repair his reputation after the war.

But Douglas's thoughts shifted to something else—the diary. His brow furrowed ever so slightly.

Mr. Weasley noticed and followed Douglas's gaze, his own expression darkening.

"That's the infamous Malfoy. Hmph! Looks like he just came from Knockturn Alley. The Ministry's been putting the squeeze on him lately..."

Douglas glanced at Ginny, then clapped his hands to draw everyone's attention.

"By the way, didn't Mrs. Weasley just say we should celebrate my new post as professor? I'd like to invite everyone to my home for a meal—let you all try my cooking. I doubt anyone would refuse, right? My place is just outside London, not far at all."

For a moment, everyone froze—then, before excitement could break out, Douglas was already striding toward the Leaky Cauldron, beckoning the group with a cheerful wave.

"It's getting late. Let's not block the street—come on, let's go outside and talk."

The Weasleys, thrilled, hurried after him. Mrs. Weasley wasted no time hauling a hesitant Harry Potter and Hermione along. Mr. Weasley pulled Mr. Granger after him, with Mrs. Granger following close behind.

As they walked, the twins whispered to Percy:

"He's brilliant!"

"No one's ever dared invite our whole family to dinner before!"

"Should we say 'trick or treat'...?"

Percy finally lost his patience and barked,

"Shut up! It's not Halloween!—I mean, if either of you causes trouble at boss's house, I'll never forgive you!"

George and Fred exchanged grins.

"Look, 'Perfect Percy' isn't threatening to tell Mum anymore!"

"No, he's calling that liar 'boss.' Merlin's beard, Percy's gone bad!"

Percy huffed,

"Liar? Say that again and I'll tell Ron and Harry what really happened back then!"

At this, the twins lunged to clamp their hands over Percy's mouth, only breaking apart when Mrs. Weasley's furious shout rang out.

Inside the Leaky Cauldron, Lucius Malfoy stood not far away, his face like thunder, white-knuckled hand gripping his cane.

Beside him, Draco Malfoy sneered,

"Father, I'm sure I wasn't mistaken. That was Harry Potter, mixing with the poor Weasleys."

Lucius's hand, hidden in his sleeve, clenched around a small notebook until his knuckles turned white.

"Disgraceful. Pure-blood filth, consorting with Muggle-borns," he spat.

With a sharp tug at Draco's arm, he muttered,

"We're leaving."

...

When Old Tom saw Douglas leading a parade of Weasleys, he wisely refrained from offering a round of butterbeer. He knew if he did, Douglas would insist on drinks for every adult in the group.

Stepping out through the door into the Muggle world, they were greeted by the familiar clamor of London's streets. The Grangers, seeing the rush of cars and people, felt a wave of relief—back in familiar territory. Glancing back, they noticed the pub had vanished, at least to their eyes. Marveling at the magic, they couldn't help but worry: would their daughter one day disappear from their world as easily as that pub?

So, when Mr. Weasley invited Mr. Granger along, the Grangers didn't hesitate for a second—no polite refusals, no second thoughts. In their small talk, they learned that this Muggle-born wizard professor had spent years living in the Muggle world after graduation, and, as Mr. Weasley put it, was one of the rare few who could move freely between both worlds. For the Grangers, this was exactly the kind of connection they needed—someone who could be their bridge to the magical world.

Just outside, Douglas glanced at Ginny's cauldron—all new books, no battered old diary tucked inside. That alone lifted his mood; there's nothing like a good deed to brighten the day.

As for whether he'd just changed the future, or thrown the familiar plot into chaos—well, Mr. Douglas Holmes could only chuckle. Since the moment he'd stepped into Hogwarts, everything had started to change, and every achievement over those seven years had been earned through sheer effort, not prophecy.

Douglas wasn't Dumbledore—he didn't have the luxury of watching history unfold with serene detachment. All he could do was lend a hand to friends in need, whenever he could. And with the Weasleys, he'd always felt at home.

As for who would ultimately get their hands on that diary—that wasn't his concern. All he needed to do was keep pace with Dumbledore, raising the banner high:

"I'll rally behind Dumbledore's banner! Let's see who dares stand against him! Enemies on every side, but I'll be his right hand and his flag."

In the end, Douglas was certain: as long as the diary made it to Hogwarts, Dumbledore would see it handled. And besides, he had plenty of backup plans of his own.

~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~

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