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

Just as everyone was digging into their meal, there came another knock at Hagrid's door.

Fang barked half-heartedly twice, then lowered his head to keep gnawing on the piece of meat Douglas had tossed him.

Hagrid was about to get up, but Douglas, without even looking up from his bowl, directed,

"Ron, would you get the door?"

Ron leapt up from his chair with all the eagerness of a loyal hound and hurried over. He swung the door open—

Standing outside was a scrawny, grey-haired boy clutching a camera. Ron gave a helpless look over his shoulder.

"Harry—it's Colin!"

Clearly, letting Colin in was not on his agenda.

At the threshold, Colin Creevey was practically vibrating with excitement. He lifted his camera, aiming it through the doorway at Harry, who was just then slurping up a mouthful of noodles.

"Hi! Harry, look over here!"

The moment Harry heard Colin's voice, he gave a full-body shudder. Then, as if fate itself had a sense of humor, the noodles he'd just inhaled shot straight out of his nose with a resounding "Achoo!"

Douglas reacted instantly, raising his bowl high above the danger zone.

Hermione was just as quick, shielding her own bowl and shooting Harry a look of pure disgust.

Across the table, Hagrid burst into booming, unrestrained laughter.

Only Ron, still at the door, watched in horror as a tiny something from Harry's nostril seemed to arc straight into his own bowl.

Click!

Colin's camera immortalized the moment.

He turned to Ron, beaming, "What a once-in-a-lifetime shot!"

It was only then that Colin noticed there was a professor in the room—his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Holmes.

His face went chalk white.

Had he snapped a photo he shouldn't have? He remembered in the Muggle world, if you photographed the wrong people, they might just smash your camera.

Panicked, he clutched the camera behind his back as if his life depended on it.

For a moment, it was as if a Petrificus Totalus had been lifted from the room.

Harry gasped for breath, tugging at the noodle dangling from his nose.

Hermione retreated to the farthest corner, bowl in hand, her expression one of supreme distaste.

Ron stared mournfully at his own bowl, where his half-bitten chunk of meat now looked far less appetizing.

Suppressing a laugh at Harry's expense, Douglas put on his most benevolent smile and called to the pale-faced boy at the door:

"If I'm not mistaken, you're Mr. Creevey, aren't you? Don't just stand out there—come in and tell us what's going on. There's fresh pork and vermicelli stew here, and I'm sure Mr. Hagrid would never turn away a young Gryffindor guest."

From the doorway, Colin could see everything clearly.

In the flickering firelight, Professor Holmes's face looked downright sinister. When he smiled, Colin felt a chill creep down his spine.

With every word Douglas spoke, Colin's face grew paler and paler.

At last, he mustered his courage and stammered loudly from the threshold,

"P-Professor, er… Professor McGonagall sent me to fetch Harry and Ron… to inform them about their detention! Professor, I—I have something else to do, so I'll be going! Goodbye, Professor!"

And with that, Colin turned tail and bolted for the castle, nearly tripping over the stone path in his haste.

Douglas looked momentarily baffled, then turned to Harry with a mock-scolding,

"Honestly, you greet your junior like that and look what happens—you scared him off! Tsk, tsk."

If Colin had heard that, he'd probably have come running back to protest, "Me? Scared of Harry? Not likely!"

Clearly, after this ordeal, Harry and Ron had completely lost their appetite.

Hermione slurped up the last noodle from her bowl, then said with a sniff,

"When you break school rules, you should expect consequences."

Douglas let out a long, satisfied breath, glanced around for a toothpick, and sighed when he couldn't find one.

"I was planning to wait until after dinner to tell you, but since you've lost your appetite, I'll just say it now."

Hermione looked up in surprise.

"Professor, do you know how Professor McGonagall plans to punish them?"

Harry and Ron turned hopeful faces to Douglas, silently begging for mercy.

Douglas put on his most solemn expression,

"Originally, Professor McGonagall was going to have you help Mr. Filch polish all the silver in the trophy room—no magic allowed. And this year, you've also won the privilege of clearing weeds and de-gnoming the orchard. Also no magic!"

At this, Harry and Ron both sucked in a breath. Everyone at Hogwarts hated caretaker Argus Filch. Compared to helping him, pulling weeds in the orchard sounded almost pleasant—Ron had done plenty of farm chores at home, after all.

Hermione asked, puzzled,

"And then? Did you think that was too harsh and change it, Professor? Actually, I think that punishment is just right—it'll teach them a lesson, or who knows what trouble they'll get into next time!"

She shot Harry and Ron a withering glare. They grinned sheepishly.

Douglas nodded,

"I've never believed in that sort of penal labor for students. So, I persuaded Professor McGonagall to let you off the hook for the silver-polishing…"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

If the setting had been different, Harry and Ron would've been clapping for joy.

Douglas sighed inwardly, missing Bill for the thousandth time. Just look at them—celebrating before he'd even finished speaking.

He wiped his unicorn horn chopsticks and continued,

"I'm not done yet! While you're off the hook for the silver, every Saturday and Sunday evening from now on, you two will report to my office to hand-write all the required readings for this year. Once you've finished copying Defense Against the Dark Arts, you'll head to Professor McGonagall to copy Transfiguration. After Transfiguration, you'll—oh, wait, no need. Professor Snape says he's too busy to see you, so you'll copy Potions notes in my office, too. Clearly, he'd rather not look at you at all. When you're done with Potions, finally, you'll go to Professor Sprout for Herbology."

With every sentence, Harry and Ron's faces grew a shade paler.

Even Hermione stared at Douglas in shock. For someone who excelled at memorizing textbooks, even she thought this was a bit much—it was inhuman.

She couldn't help but ask, "Why isn't there any Charms from Professor Flitwick?"

All four heads turned to stare at her.

Hermione blushed and shrugged, "Right, never mind, forget I said anything."

Hagrid couldn't help but shiver, looking at Harry and Ron with deep sympathy.

Douglas finished up, slipping his chopsticks back into the unicorn-hair pouch Hagrid had given him.

"Oh, nearly forgot—one more thing. You'll both need to copy out the school rules, two hundred times each. No time limit, just hand it in to Professor McGonagall by the end of term. And don't forget, you're still on orchard duty—after all, a balance of work and rest is vital for your healthy development…"

As Douglas finished speaking, Harry and Ron toppled right off their chairs with a resounding thud.

Hermione and Hagrid hurried to help them up.

Douglas chuckled, "Well, would you look at that! They've fallen off their chairs!"

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