A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

What is magic?

Power, incantations, gestures, emotions, thoughts, knowledge, wands, belief...

As Felix delved deeper into his research, he meticulously eliminated unnecessary elements, drawing closer to the essence of magic. At a certain moment, he pondered that magic was the foundation of all inexplicable phenomena, the source of miracles, while the heart pointed the way to these miracles.

When these two combined, it allowed one to achieve what the heart desired.

The outbursts of young wizards were the closest to this description. They hadn't mastered complex spells but, driven by intense emotions—a kind of mental strength—they achieved feats that many wizards couldn't in a lifetime of study.

Of course, this referred to the complexity of magical operations, not the discussion of their power.

Once young wizards entered school, they began learning how to control magic systematically, how to manipulate it, making it as easy as moving an arm. This transition was from instinct to skill, from wildness to rationality.

Magic inherently constituted a part of a wizard's cognition.

What would happen if this part of cognition were disrupted one day?

Felix stared at the hysterical Professor Burbage. In his perception, the magic within the professor was unlike anything he had seen before—disorganized, like a tangled ball of yarn. But he was certain she wasn't a squib.

Hogwarts housed a true squib—Argus Filch, the castle's caretaker. Felix's eyes darted momentarily toward the crowd's edge; Filch stood by the caretaker's office near the entrance hall, faint sounds emanating from the slightly ajar door, likely a faint magical gramophone.

He held a bunch of keys, looking stunned, Mrs. Norris coiling around his feet.

Felix averted his gaze, confirming once more from Filch that the magic within them was radically different. Squibs, of course, had magic, but it was almost inert and lacked the quantity or quality of a typical wizard who had enrolled. Their magical abilities were exceedingly dormant, akin to a quiet pond... more precisely, a stagnant little pool.

"Professor McGonagall, it would be best to take Professor Burbage to the school infirmary. Have Madam Pomfrey check her; she might be under the influence of some obscure curse," Felix suggested, a pretext of course, but some things didn't need to be publicized.

At this moment, he couldn't provide a definitive conclusion. It was better to keep silent for now than let the students speculate wildly.

After all, half-knowledge and baseless rumors were practically the breeding ground for misinformation.

Professor Burbage, in a trance, heard these words and, as if grasping the last straw, exclaimed in distress, "Yes, it's a curse! Those books—the ones I brought from the Muggle world—they've messed with my mind! Oh, goodness! Each word on them conceals a malevolent curse..."

A collective gasp echoed in the entrance hall.

"Muggle books hiding curses?" a student whispered.

"It's possible. My mum warned me to stay away from everything Muggle," another student affirmed with seriousness.

"Nonsense!" Hermione retorted assertively, earning a defiant glare. When the person noticed the prefect badge on Hermione's chest, they turned away, muttering, "It was my mum who said so."

"Carried away, aren't they?" Professor McGonagall said gently to Carrie, attempting to soothe her.

But Professor Burbage kept repeating these words, occasionally pausing to sniffle. Felix shook his head slightly, his eyes flickering. The professor, on the brink of collapse, slowly fell into unconsciousness in Professor McGonagall's arms.

The crowd fell eerily silent, as if the professor's words still hung in the air, transforming into menacing creatures that clawed and snarled at them.

Felix had to speak up, loud and clear. "Everyone!" His voice carried far and wide, drawing the bewildered gazes of the students toward him, even several professors who had arrived looked at him, hoping for answers.

The astonishing revelation Professor Burbage had just made was too unprecedented: normal wizards turning into squibs? This had never happened before.

"Professor Burbage is facing some physical issues, that's undeniable. The cause is unclear for now, so I need you all to remain calm and a little patient," he spoke calmly, sweeping his gaze over the assembled, emanating a convincing aura from within.

"I don't want you to forget my other two identities—Muggle Studies expert and Memory Therapist—so, Professor Burbage's trouble happens to be in my field of expertise. Instead of aimless speculation, it might be wiser to ask me, of course, after consultation."

He exchanged a look with Professor McGonagall, who understood, and with her wand, whisked Professor Burbage away, followed by several professors. Snape stood against the wall, his black eyes darting around, before he strolled in the direction of the infirmary.

The students exchanged puzzled glances—n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Oh—oh—" Justin Finch-Fletchley suddenly exclaimed, startling everyone. His companion swiftly moved aside, theatrically patting his chest. "I remember! The Muggle world does indeed have cursed items, but they flow out from the wizarding world. Professor Harp even checked a vase made by a fairy for me!"

"Is that true?" his friend Susan Bones inquired.

"I can vouch for that," Ernie Macmillan, previously startled, spoke earnestly, attempting to salvage his image.

The frozen air in the entrance hall thawed as discussions erupted, several young wizards crowding around Justin, eager to hear more clearly.

...

The hospital wing was packed.

Almost all the professors had hurried over, and underneath the hospital, quite a few students stood squeezed together, forcing Professor McGonagall to step outside every few minutes to maintain order, silencing the chaotic crowd.

Some, like Hermione and Ron, had been conscripted into acting as runners in the corridors. Amidst the chaotic atmosphere, Madam Pomfrey completed her examination.

"This is the strangest patient I've ever seen. Her body is perfectly fine, except for her magic. Often, these situations are the hardest to deal with. Even if she were missing an arm, I could heal her," she shook her head repeatedly, wearing a perplexed expression. "I can't determine either, but it's not a squib, but these symptoms—"

Another uproar came from outside. Professor McGonagall shot up, her chest heaving. "Can't those students see the timing? I must dock points from them!" She stormed to the door, flinging it open to find a tall, lean wizard outside.

Professor McGonagall breathed a sigh of relief. "You finally arrived, Dumbledore. It's about Carrie—"

"I'm aware," Dumbledore nodded to her, scanning the area. His gaze seemed to possess a magic that smoothed the professors' restless minds. Then, he strode to Carrie's bed, leaning down to check her condition, his silver beard trailing onto the sheets.

After a while, he straightened up, a hint of bewilderment in his eyes. "I can ascertain that she hasn't turned into a squib, and certainly, it's not a

curse—"

"Headmaster Dumbledore, could it be Silentium? I've read about it in books; the characteristics seem similar to the magic within her—" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"Absolutely not," Dumbledore asserted firmly.

He looked around at the others present. Professor Flitwick shrilled, "I found no concealed curses." Snape stood in a corner, expressionless, "Nor is it the effect of any potions." Professor Sprout added, "She hasn't recently come into contact with sneezewort or knotgrass, those sorts of plants."

"Perhaps it's not magic at work," Professor Trelawney, wearing large spectacles, poked her head out from behind Professor Sinistra of Astronomy and Grappling, the substitute professor for Fantastic Beasts, peering in the direction of the bed.

"Thank you, Sybill," Dumbledore said succinctly.

He glanced at Felix, who had just opened his eyes with a peculiar expression, softly asking, "How did your interaction with Carrie go?" Several professors in the ward widened their eyes, all staring intently at Felix's face, trying to discern something.

Felix hesitated for a moment. "Albus, it might be better if you see for yourself."

Dumbledore met his gaze calmly, his blue eyes flickering momentarily beneath his half-moon spectacles, then found himself in a kaleidoscopic, peculiar world: here, there was no distinction between up, down, left, or right; the ground was empty, lacking any place to stand. All around was vast, dimly lit space, as if in the midst of the universe. Dumbledore curiously surveyed his surroundings—the coiled double helix structures formed golden staircases, stretching from nearby to the infinite distance of the horizon. Soon after, large blue orbs radiated white currents like lightning, filling the small remaining gaps. Gold and blue interlaced but remained distinct, forming enigmatic, shifting patterns where they met.

"This is..." Dumbledore began slowly.

"Professor Burbage's dream," Felix replied succinctly.

In the midst of conversation, a familiar voice resonated from an unknown source. It was Charity Burbage. Her voice seemed more ethereal than usual, echoing as though from a vast wilderness. There was an air of confusion and fear in her tone as she spoke from all directions, "Why... why isn't there a place for magic..."

Dumbledore's expression turned solemn as he began to explain, "During the summer, Charity encountered an accident. She visited a dozen Muggle biologists, and on her final visit, her emotions ran high. At that point, her body likely showed signs of distress, triggering her wand's alert. Unfortunately, the Muggle professor she was conversing with suspected she had a firearm, rushed in, and subdued her, then called the authorities. When I retrieved her, she was utterly distraught..."

"Felix and I discussed this before," Felix Harp chimed in with a reminiscent look. "Two years ago, during the International Conference on Muggle Studies, Professor Burbage showed interest in biological knowledge. However, her studies at that time were very basic, comparable to a first-year levitation charm. Her presentation was interrupted due to an unforeseen incident involving students from Ifaw Mooney attacking the Bussres Hotel... Since then, I haven't paid much attention to her research progress, but evidently, Professor Burbage hasn't given up. Her studies have delved deeper over these past two years."

Dumbledore observed Charity Burbage's peculiar dreamscape. "Is she unable to comprehend this new knowledge?"

"Worse," Felix remarked. "She understands it but cannot assimilate it into her existing cognitive framework."

Dumbledore pondered for a moment, seemingly unaffected by Burbage's wandering voice. "A clash between magic and science?"

"Magic and science," Felix softly said, "are like two circles, each developing its own vastly different system over centuries. Comparatively: magic, intuitive and fluid; science, rational and precise. They have diverged so significantly, forming two brilliant civilizations..."

"However," Dumbledore sighed, "our Professor Burbage stumbled upon their intersection."

"Indeed," Felix continued, "her cognition is heavily inclined towards wizardry. Undoubtedly, as a wizard, she's adept. However, pardon my frankness, her grasp of science is lacking. Yet, she insists on applying wisdom gained from life to understand an entirely different, rigorously logical entity. That's bound to cause problems."

"Ah, I see," Dumbledore breathed gently, gazing at the dreamscape before him. "Now that we understand the cause, solving Charity's troubles becomes simpler. There might be more than one solution. After we leave, we'll let Charity choose her path."

Felix nodded in agreement, contemplating potential resolutions.

The most straightforward method involved erasing Charity Burbage's memories of this incident, treating her as a new wizard and reacquainting her with her magic. The process posed no difficulty, but whether she'd willingly comply remained uncertain.

The alternative was more challenging. Retaining her memories, she'd have to reintegrate magic amidst disruptions, solidifying her comprehension.

Regardless, Dumbledore would undoubtedly caution her against engaging with such 'dangerous' knowledge in the short term.

Felix felt a tinge of regret; he hadn't yet presented his Christmas gift. However, he refrained, now cautious of anything related to the Muggle world that might trigger her sensitivities. This incident served as a wake-up call, making him realize the extensive road ahead in advocating for the integration of the wizarding and non-wizarding worlds.

Perhaps establishing a middle ground between the two, a buffer zone between openness and seclusion, might be prudent...

Limited openness? Felix pondered.

Dumbledore sighed, "She must be one of the few wizards in centuries to delve this deeply into such knowledge."

"Indeed, a pioneer," Felix acknowledged.

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"Your achievements in Muggle studies are equally commendable," Dumbledore spoke softly. "I've read your books, containing quite a bit of... scientific knowledge. And as far as I know, what one can articulate is only a small fraction of their wisdom."

"Do you think my research delves deeper than Professor Burbage's?"

"That's the puzzle. You seem to have never faced this particular challenge. Moreover, you've integrated these ideas into the company you've founded. The Future World reportedly spends a significant portion on Muggle products, yet your employees don't face the... um, only distinction I can think of is the difference in research fields," Dumbledore discussed the matter.

"That's indeed a factor," Felix replied. "The development strategy I devised for the company—at least in its initial stages—revolved around assimilating Muggle technology concepts and functionalities and attempting to replace them with magic. I didn't require them to understand the principles, and importantly—"

He counted on his fingers, "Mechanical structures, physics, chemistry... these concepts either existed within wizards or were entirely unknown, causing no significant clashes in their cognition. Professor Burbage, on the other hand, has dived into the most fundamental and intense whirlpools."

"As for myself remaining unaffected, it might relate to my upbringing. It instilled in me a reverence for both magic and science, acknowledging the challenge of effortlessly harnessing the power of both," Felix explained.

Dumbledore smiled, "Ah, I've conjured an intriguing idea, much like the advertisement you placed in the newspaper—melding Muggle intelligence with magic, what sparks will fly?"

"Absolutely, I'm eagerly anticipating it."

"You're too modest, Felix. If I were to find a word to describe it, I'd say: remarkably fruitful," Dumbledore stated. In the dreamscape, Charity's voice fluctuated, as though wandering persistently through a dream, seeking answers repeatedly.

"Genes... information... evolution... Why isn't there a place for magic here?"

"Have you pondered how to address this issue?" Dumbledore asked thoughtfully.

Felix magically understood his implication. Dumbledore wasn't seeking the answer itself, as it wasn't realistic or immediately attainable. He simply wanted to know how to navigate such conflicting thoughts and concepts if wizards and non-wizards were destined to integrate.

"I hadn't considered it before," Felix straightforwardly admitted.

"And now?"

"I have a semblance of an idea!"

Dumbledore smiled at Felix. Felix felt a strange sensation, almost as if he were transported back three years, seated in that circular Headmaster's office, undergoing a serious interview rather than discussing matters in a professor's enigmatic dreamscape.

"In the short term, magic remains magic, science remains science. Create a buffer zone and allow sufficient time for adaptation," he earnestly proposed.

Suddenly, the voice in the dreamscape quietened, as if even Professor Burbage's subconscious was listening attentively. The silence around was eerie. The blue sphere and golden double helix structure began to separate, revealing a large area of blackness in between.

"Limit communication within a certain range?" Dumbledore nodded. "A good plan. But who will be the bridge in the middle?"

Felix hesitated for a moment before expressing his thoughts, "Previously, it was inadvertently the Ministry of Magic's doing. Now, the Future World Company is actively pushing for it, and in the future, it'll be the combined efforts of young wizards born into

Muggle families..."

Dumbledore didn't confirm or deny, merely stating, "Let's leave for now; people outside must be getting anxious... Speaking of which, I wonder if Charity will have a chance to feature on Chocolate Frog Cards? What would her introduction be like?"

"That's something to look forward to."

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