A Certain Hogwarts Magician Professor

Meanwhile, 4 Privet Drive.

"So, that, that guy got a job for himself?" said Uncle Fenon, staring.

"Yeah," said Harry listlessly, thinking that it was a good thing that Sirius was working at the Ministry, because as far as he knew, aside from a few months as an assistant teacher at a Muggle school, Sirius had grown so much. Didn't go to work properly.

In Harry's imagination, his godfather would be like Mr. Weasley, commuting to and from get off work at a fixed time, and the time is very regular. But he neglected a little, and now it is not the same as before, completely different. He hadn't seen the Sirius man for several days.

During the first few days of the holiday, Sirius was happy to sit down with Harry and laugh at how he was playing a trick on Prefect Amelia (though it shouldn't be) and how he had the upper hand in language, see It can be seen that Sirius regards this as a very serious fight, and the two sides come and go, just like a confrontation in a boxing ring.

But soon, almost as fast as the naked eye, his time with Harry dwindled dramatically.

One day Harry stayed in Sirius' rental house until eleven o'clock in the evening, never seeing Sirius come back. This makes Harry terrified, is there something wrong? His heart was so tangled, all kinds of terrible guesses flooded into his head, and Harry could only try desperately to convince himself that Sirius was temporarily stumbling on something. It took him a lot of perseverance to not act impulsively. Instead, he went back to the Dursleys' bed and tossed for the night. When it was dawn, he got up immediately, and he didn't even bother to eat breakfast. Sirius' rental house.

There was still no one inside.

Harry was so terrified that he wanted to use Apparate. Go to the Burrow, or Diagon Alley... He even pulled out his wand, and unexpectedly saw a scribbled note on the table. In fact, it was quite conspicuous. When Harry thought back after the event, he thought that he was concerned and messed up, but fortunately, he didn't cause more trouble because of his impulsiveness.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief at the contents of the note. Sirius came back late last night. He thought he could rest a little longer the next day, but he was called away before dawn. Sirius had to leave Harry a note explaining the situation.

Since then, Harry has always looked for opportunities to get Sirius to wear the two-way mirror, so that he can be contacted at any time. But every time he saw his godfather looking tired, he was embarrassed to mention it.

The next week, Harry saw Sirius only twice, each time returning late. Sirius's eyes were swollen too, and he started dozing off after a few words, and when Harry handed him chips, he stuffed them into his nostrils.

...

"What's he doing now?" asked Uncle Fenon at the table.

"Nothing," said Harry as calmly as he could. "He's now an assistant to the Minister for Magic."

The Dursleys looked puzzled.

"The equivalent of a Muggle prime minister's secretary." Harry put it another way, he was satisfied to see their surprised expressions, trying not to make his pride appear too obvious, "It's nothing, he's up One job is to be a teaching assistant in a school, and Dudley should know that, right?"

Dudley immediately choked on the dry salad and coughed.

"Boy, what have you done!" Uncle Fernon stared at Harry viciously, while Aunt Petunia patted Dudley on the back and cried out in disgust, "Dada dear, what's the matter with you? Choked on the food. Is it?" Dudley blushed, and separated Aunt Petunia's thin arm with his three-layered fat arm, shoulders shrugged.

Although he wanted to look at it for a while, Uncle Fernon's face had turned the color of pig liver, as if he was the one who was choking on the salad now. He kept flexing his fingers, as if he was going to rush over and grab Harry's throat in the next second.

"I didn't do anything," said Harry hastily. "I guess he just misses the assistant gym teacher who taught him for half a year." He met Uncle Fernon's little eyes and said, "Yeah, Sirius last one. The job is to teach at that Mei Siting school."

"It's Smelting High School!" growled Uncle Fenon, his alma mater and Dudley's proud to go there.

Dinner turned out to be goofy. Uncle Fenon's reaction to Sirius' presence at his and Dudley's alma mater was far beyond Harry's expectations, and he seemed to think that the wizards (who were freaks by his mouth) had finally put their vicious thoughts on his precious son. "Are they ready to monitor us in all directions?"

Aunt Petunia also yelled and began to scold Harry incessantly. It's strange why she can wipe away her tears while saying the vicious words so accurately and clearly.

"It was a total accident, Sirius went to Muggle school for experience, and he's going to teach at Hogwarts next year," Harry explained, "and he's resigned now."

"That hippy can be a professor?" said Feinon with disdain, when Dudley finally stopped coughing and started burping. For some time afterwards, Uncle Fernon muttered dissatisfiedly, "Look at you people! There's still schools, and the government—how many of you are there?" he asked, turning on the TV.

"About tens of thousands of people," Harry said dryly.

"No wonder." Uncle Feinong shouted. It seemed that all the previous doubts had found a basis. He wanted to say something else, but the evening news came on the TV - "People don't need to worry! The economic growth rate is slowing down and unemployment is unemployed. The spike in rates is temporary, and it won't be long before it gets better..." The man on the TV was giving a speech hoarsely.

"Only an idiot would believe him!" Uncle Fenon's attention was attracted by the sound of the TV. He stared at the screen and said, "This Prime Minister is terrible..."

Harry glanced at it too, and the next second he was attracted to the man next to the Prime Minister, tall, dark-skinned, wearing a dark suit, giving him a very stable feeling. Harry took another look, and yes, it was Kingsley Shacklebolt.

What the hell is going on here? Harry couldn't believe his eyes. He stared at the TV screen motionless, but the screen was always fixed on the Prime Minister's face, and he didn't show it to the people next to him for more than ten seconds. Harry scratched his ears and cheeks anxiously.

When the Prime Minister finished his long-winded speech, wiped his bald forehead with a handkerchief, and was about to get up and leave, the camera finally recorded the person next to him. Harry held his breath to confirm again and again that he was finally sure that he was not wrong.

"You still read the news?" Uncle Fenon said to Harry in a vicious voice. "Damn, how could our news have anything to do with people like you—"

"It's a shame," Harry said calmly, pointing to the TV, "I just saw someone I know." With Uncle Fenon's stunned expression, he shrugged, "Yeah, it looks like wizards and numb Melon's connection is much deeper than you might think..."

Before Uncle Fernon got angry again, Harry slid back to his room, lying on the bed staring at the ceiling in a daze. Sirius should be still at work at this time, and you can come and see in another hour... but how to pass this time is not a small problem, Harry picked up a purple booklet beside the pillow, with a prominent cover printed on the cover. Word:

The Wartime Survival Manual - Authorized by the Ministry of Magic: Protecting Your Home and Family from the Dark Arts

Harry turned to the first page, and there was something like a catalogue—

The wizarding world is currently under threat from a group calling itself the Death Eaters. Following these simple safety guidelines will help protect yourself, your family and your home from attack.

1. Don't leave home alone.

2. Be extra careful at night. Go out and get back before dark if possible.

3. Check the safety precautions around the house to ensure that the whole family is aware of some emergency measures, such as using iron armor spells, phantom body spells, etc. Underage children in the family need to learn to follow the appearance.

4. Agree on a security code with friends and relatives to see through Death Eaters using Compound Potion to impersonate others (see page 2).

5. If possible, master the anti-dark magic spell Bright Fire Spell.

...

Suddenly, there was a sound of slapping the glass outside the window.

Harry sat up abruptly from the bed, not even noticing that the booklet covering his face had fallen to the ground. He looked at the place where the sound came from, a fluffy, squashed ginger head was pressed against the window, and he was so startled that he almost fell off the bed.

"Crookshanes?" he shouted incredulously, walking three and two to the window, pulling it open, and the ginger cat jumped over the edge of the window into the house, purring at him.

"Crookshanes, why are you here, Hermione asked you to send a letter? But it's too far..." Harry said at a loss.

Crookshanks licked his paw and pointed out.

Harry mechanically turned his head and looked out the window, his eyes suddenly widening in the next second.

Hermione was standing pretty beside the flowerbed at 4 Privet Drive, her suitcase in one hand, and she was waving desperately at him in the other.

Harry scrambled downstairs, followed by Crookshanks, leaving the screams of Uncle Fenon and Aunt Petunia behind him, and rushed out the door to Hermione.

"Why, are you here?" Harry gasped.

"I wrote to the professor asking where I could cast spells without any hesitation—" Hermione said happily, stroking her hair.

"But here I--and--can't- cast spells--" Harry gasped, swallowing. "Sirius isn't home during the day."

"I know, the place the professor said wasn't here either," said Hermione.

"So, uh, are you here to say goodbye to me?" Harry said disappointedly, thinking he had more company.

"Didn't anyone tell you?" Hermione asked him in surprise. "We're leaving together."