History of Magic and Longbottom

Edmund was quite looking forward to the meeting at eight o'clock that evening. But before that, he had to attend his afternoon lecture on the history of magic.

If Travers's information is correct, then the history of magic must be the least valued course of all at Hogwarts.

Its professor was a ghost whose death was unknown, named Cuthbert Binns. Before his death, he was already senile, and coupled with his stubborn personality, he successfully turned the history of Hogwarts' magic into a disaster.

However, this is a subject that can be learned simply by reading books—or rather, a subject that most wizards are not interested in, thinking that reading books is enough to understand it. Edmund found this quite interesting; what was that saying again?

The only lesson humanity has learned from history is that humanity learns nothing.

However, despite not having any expectations for the history of magic, Edmund still stumbled badly in the course—he got lost, and this time it was even worse than before; he was completely disoriented.

Although he and Travers had successfully reached the library annex, they couldn't find the History of Magic classroom at all. Worse still, unlike before when they were too afraid to wander around due to their confusion, this time they were blindly confident, relentlessly heading upwards, almost locking themselves in an attic where all the rooms were locked. Ultimately, they had to rely on Galleons to solve the problem.

"You'd better memorize the way," Edmund said, his face expressionless and irritated. "Otherwise, next time we might as well go with the girls—I have plenty of money, but it's too embarrassing to have to pay for directions every time."

Travers did not answer; he had neither the confidence nor the courage to promise Edmund that he could remember the correct way after getting lost once.

Fortunately, Edmund was only good at talking; once he sat down, his attention was immediately drawn to Professor Binns's demeanor.

"Death beholds me," Edmund muttered softly. "You lazy bum, look at your handiwork..."

For a moment, Edmund even felt a pang of pity. He had long known what would become of these souls who refused to die properly: they would be frozen at the moment of death, rejected by the afterlife, suffering the erosion of time, yet unable to progress.

A wandering ghost often loses its senses quickly because it is usually trapped in the memories of the past and unable to extricate itself. And memories are worn away every second, the ghost only gradually fades until the past disappears, with no future.

This appears to be Professor Binns' current state.

He must have loved this job so much in life that his last remaining obsession was to teach there. He cared about nothing but continuing to teach students, and he didn't socialize with the other ghosts who had also chosen to stay. As a result, his already confused mind became even more muddled.

"He's been dead for over a hundred years, hasn't he? It's a dead history."

Edmund remarked casually. On the one hand, he found Professor Binns' passion truly admirable; on the other hand, he was secretly pleased that he had chosen a different path from the start and that it had gone very smoothly.

However, once the class officially began, Edmund's initial thoughts were quickly forgotten. Professor Binns's class was so easy to fall asleep in that even though it was with the studious Ravenclaw, Edward estimated that at least 60% of the students were asleep.

Even he couldn't help but take a short nap.

Well, all of this is so that I can meet the greatest white wizard of our time in the best possible condition!

Edmund thought this was a perfectly valid reason. That was his explanation when Pollyanna came to him and said, "I didn't write back because I saw you were asleep."

He was clearly not worried at all about being called to the principal's office for causing trouble less than a week into the semester. Pollyanna, on the other hand, remained silent for a few seconds, as if unsure how to respond.

“I am free Saturday afternoon.” She stared at Edmund. “If you don’t get fired, shall we meet by the fireplace in the common room?”

Edmund wasn't surprised she accepted his invitation. Although attacking Avery had made him a troublemaker among the freshmen, this was, after all, an ambitious Slytherin!

Besides, Pollyanna is already ostracized by everyone because of her physical disability and is being subtly excluded from the girls' group. If she doesn't quickly find an ally to protect her, isn't she just waiting to fall to the bottom and be bullied by everyone?

Edmund agreed and went back to his room, where he had Travers choose two pairs of dragon-skin boots as agreed. Then he wrote a letter home, picked up his scabies medicine, and went out.

He didn't really like small animals. To be precise, he disliked having animal hair on his clothes and wasn't planning on having a pet until he learned to clean himself properly. So, to send letters home, he had to go to the owlhouse at school.

When there were no classes to rush to, Hogwarts became interesting again. Edmund also had some free time, able to admire the playful murals and the overly lively armor. During this time, he got lost again, even passing by the History of Magic classroom once more. On his way out, he even found the Transfiguration classroom.

After being startled by a moving cat skeleton, Edmund finally left the school.

A gentle breeze blew by, and he turned to look at the ancient castle that he both loved and hated, and couldn't help but laugh.

Life at Hogwarts is indeed quite nice.

At least it's not boring at all.

The path became easier from there, guided by stone pillars carved with owls. Edmund quickly climbed the hill and chose an owl that caught his eye from the owl hut. Only then did he realize that the Galleons in his pocket were useless; the lively little chick hopped around, disdainfully pushing the coins aside, clearly begging for food.

"...I'm so sorry."

Edmund took out his pen and added at the end of the letter, "Please take care of this little bird for me, Mother."

"Is this okay? Deliver the goods first, then serve the meal? Ouch! That hurts! It's not my fault, I didn't know about your industry's unspoken rules!"

This made the boy on the other side laugh, and the little wizard wasn't embarrassed when Edmund looked at him with a complaining expression. He had a friendly, round face and was a Hufflepuff.

"Most of the services at Hogwarts are free. But the birds are always greedy." He took out half a piece of dark jerky and went to Edmund's side to feed the owl.

Edmund immediately turned his anger into joy and sincerely thanked the other party.

"This is a huge help!"

He handed the boy two Galleons, but only received a confused look in return. It took the little wizard a while to understand what he meant, and he immediately waved his hand sheepishly.

"It's nothing, you're too kind!"

Even so, Edmund was still grateful. They exchanged a few words and names.

"I hope to attend class with you, Frank," Edmund said sincerely. "You seem like a kind person!" And the genie always favors the kind.

Frank Longbottom nodded sheepishly, pleased that he had made another friend.

...Moreover, this also seems to prove that his mother was not entirely right; there are good people in Slytherin too!

The two returned to the castle together, and as Edmund spoke, Frank unwittingly took on the role of guide—this little badger, though unremarkable at first glance, was an excellent navigator. Hufflepuff's common room was very close to Slytherin's, and the two returned to the main passageway outside the Great Hall, at the bottom of the marble staircase, without taking a single detour.

"...Why aren't you a Slytherin?"

Edmund's desperate tone amused Frank, and they waved goodbye. Edmund checked the time and felt it was just the right time to embark on a new journey—he was going to climb the long, magical staircase to the top of the tower to visit the headmaster's office.