Chapter 150 Professor Kettleburn Wants to Arrange His Own Exam Immediately

According to Dumbledore, only Professor McGonagall and Snape among the professors clearly knew that the right corridor on the third floor was just a trap for people plotting the secret of eternal life. Even if the others had vague guesses, they had never heard from the principal. Confirmed everywhere. When Quirrell's seat became vacant again, people originally thought that the miserable professor just locked himself in the office and cried again.

However, before Professor McGonagall's notification letter was prepared, Professor Kettleburn took the lead in visiting the corridor on the second floor in accordance with the agreement with Quirrell. After being left hanging outside the door for half an hour, the old professor finally got angry and waved his walking stick and prosthetic limbs, banging them on the garlic portrait.

But the "bad boy" still didn't come to open the door. When Professor Kettleburn angrily tried to pry open the door, somehow all of his prosthetic limbs got hung up on the oil painting frame. So he pulled hard and complained loudly, finally waking up Anthony next door.

"Professor Kettleburn?" Anthony, with messy hair and wearing pajamas, opened the door and saw a ridiculous picture in front of him.

The venerable, elderly Care of Magical Creatures professor, with all three prosthetic limbs stuck in the frame, was hanging mid-air in the corridor like his hairy primate relatives, his good arm clutching his cane as he struggled with white-skinned garlic.

"Let me in!" Professor Kettleburn threatened, "Let me in quickly! Quirrell, or you come out!"

Anthony quickly stepped forward to pick up the old professor: "Quirrell...well, Professor Quirrell has left."

Professor Kettleburn angrily shook the wooden prosthetic leg, which made a tooth-breaking crunching sound.

"Leaved? I think he ran away!" He said loudly, "You keep putting it off, just because you don't want to give me a comfortable exam environment!"

"Test?" Anthony brought the old professor into his office, quickly changed his clothes, poured a cup of tea for Professor Kettleburn, and glared at the eager cat in warning. It was staring at the weathered wooden leg. But Anthony had to admit in his heart that the texture did look very similar to the cat climbing frame given to him by Professor McGonagall.

Professor Kettleburn threw himself into the chair for entertaining guests, took the tea, and said angrily: "My exam, the Care of Magical Creatures exam. Those animals...oh, look, who is this?" ” He suddenly noticed the ginger cat staring at him, put down his tea, and started making faces at the cat.

The cat looked at him for a while, then finally looked away without interest, jumped up on the cat climbing frame, and started scratching and biting his beloved toy. The sound of jingling toys woke up the wraith mouse sleeping on the upper floor. It stuck out its head to take a look at the situation, and then quickly retracted its nose into its nest when it saw Professor Kettleburn.

But the sharp-eyed professor had already seen it: "What is that, a mouse?" He held the armrest and wanted to stand up to see this transparent gadget more clearly.

Because he felt that the mouse just wanted to sleep now and had no time to deal with the energetic professor, Anthony quickly brought the topic back: "Yes, that's right. What happened to the Care of Magical Creatures exam, Professor?"

"Ah, where did I mention...yes, those magical animals." Professor Kettleburn said excitedly, "I have prepared different questions for different grades, especially the senior grades, which are all practical exams. There are It's very interesting to tell the difference between sparrows and hedgehogs, and some swallow-tailed dogs and hounds... But I need to know the time and place of the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam. What if he also decides to set the exam location at the edge of the Forbidden Forest? Wrong? I can't let those blathering people scare away my baby."

Anthony nodded: "That's right."

"I have asked all the professors who need to organize practical exams, and only Professor Quirrell did not give me an exact exam time!" Professor Kettleburn said angrily, leaning hard on the ground with his crutches, "So, of course I I politely sent him an owl and asked him when the time and place for the exam could be determined..."

Anthony couldn't help but ask: "But don't our elective courses have to be tested a little earlier than them? A week in advance every time?"

"Oh, really?" Professor Kettleburn looked a little surprised.

"Professor Quirrell told me," Anthony said, unable to help but begin to wonder if Voldemort had conveyed false news.

Professor Kettleburn looked up blankly, staring into space for a while, as if thinking about his past exam time, and finally shook his head: "No, I don't remember such a rule... Oh, wait. Wait, it’s like this. Subjects with practical examinations need to declare the examination content, expected duration and examination venue one week in advance than other subjects. Subjects with only written examinations are counted separately. You must have heard wrongly that the examination week is unified, but the application time is the same. The problem."

"Great," Anthony blurted out.

He hasn't come up with a good question yet, but that will undoubtedly not be practice. After the practical activities, he felt that he no longer needed more opportunities to supervise students to experience Muggle life first-hand.

Professor Kettleburn looked at him clearly: "Didn't you come up with good test questions?"

Anthony took a sip of tea with some embarrassment and smiled: "Not yet."

"It doesn't matter, just use past questions." Professor Kettleburn came closer mysteriously, "My written examination questions have never changed. Students call me 'Old Fool' behind my back, but, hum, Don't think I don't know, they are very happy..."

Anthony, who had just become a professor, declined his proposal and turned the topic back to his missing neighbor.

"You sent an owl, and then what?"

Professor Kettleburn leaned back in his chair and said, "Then of course I started waiting for his reply. I went to the owl shed twice a day - hum, look at my body, you should know that this is not an easy job - and then about yesterday, I finally received a reply. At that time, I was in the shed helping the owl clean its trough... A bad guy poured corn kernels into it..."

"Uh..." said the bad guy.

"Then the unfortunate creature flew past the window, probably saw me, and flew in to help me take care of its trough. Guess what? Quirrell's reply was tied to its leg, asking me to go to his office this morning for a detailed discussion."

Anthony asked with difficulty: "Well... how was the letter written? How can you be sure that it was Professor Quirrell?"

Professor Kettleburn said proudly: "I taught him, I recognize his handwriting. Besides, who else could it be for? But I was a little angry when I saw the letter. Professor Anthony, you can't imagine how impolite the writing on the paper was! There was no address, no signature, I waited so long, and only got a hastily written note!"

"Ah." Anthony said with difficulty, "That was really unlucky."

...

After seeing off Professor Kettleburn, Anthony, who could no longer fall asleep, played with his two pets for a while, and decided to go to the staff lounge for a walk, and then quickly set the test questions.

He met Professor McGonagall there.

"Henry, I was wondering if you would come." Professor McGonagall looked up from the pile of papers in front of her, "There is something I want to discuss with you about your teaching practice."

"What's the matter, Minerva?" Anthony asked in confusion, opening the cabinet and looking, "Tea?"

Professor McGonagall shook her head: "No, thank you... I noticed that Mr. Davis was in the third group of teaching practice. Zoo, right?"

"That's right." Anthony said, vaguely understanding what Professor McGonagall wanted to say.

Sure enough, Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and said, "We are worried that he cannot participate due to his condition, but he seems to be looking forward to the activities... After Filius came back yesterday, he went straight to the school hospital. They told me that they have some directions and may make some progress before the holiday..."

Anthony took the initiative to say, "How about this, we postpone the practical activities of Muggle Research to... uh, next school year, I will communicate with the zoo." He thought about it again, "Since the third group has been postponed, why not postpone the chocolate factory as well. Otherwise, only six people in the two grades who chose the course will not participate in the practical activities."

"That's great, I will issue a school guarantee to the parents." Professor McGonagall said, "But it's not just the zoo or the factory, you may have to consider how to explain to the students..."

Anthony joked, "It's very simple, I'm going to tell them because I don't have time to make test questions. The final exam is the priority."

Even facing a piece of parchment with messy handwriting that was difficult to recognize, Professor McGonagall couldn't help laughing.

"It's up to you, Henry." She said, "You can also say that I gave you a strict order."

At this moment, a large group of professors poured into the lounge. Professor Sprout was leading the group, and she was talking to Professor Bubbage. Anthony didn't notice Professor Flitwick until they came in. Behind the short Ravenclaw Headmaster was the gloomy Snape.

Professor Flitwick looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes. He nodded to Anthony and took the teapot he handed over.

"Is that true, Minerva?" Professor Sprout said, "Quirinus? Did he really try to steal the Philosopher's Stone?"

Professor McGonagall said seriously, "I'm afraid, I'm sorry."

"The Philosopher's Stone?" Anthony asked, and then realized that this was the so-called "secret of immortality." Because there were so many things waiting for him and Dumbledore to report, and so many things he wanted to know, he never asked what the secret was.

But Professor Flitwick misunderstood his doubts. He took a sip of tea, which sobered him up a bit. He explained in a sharp voice, "Yes, the Philosopher's Stone, the one made by Nicolas Flamel. It can turn stones into gold, and it can also make the Elixir of Life... You don't know how many people covet it. If Flamel wasn't a powerful wizard, thieves and robbers would go to his house at least three times a day. But twice a week is still a bit high."

"Especially when you have lived for more than 600 years." Anthony said with understanding.

After being deceived into buying the bottle of "Elixir of Life", he learned more about this legendary alchemist. He recalled: "I remember seeing that he stored the Philosopher's Stone in Gringotts?"

"Before the semester started - before you came here - Gringotts was almost robbed. I don't know if you remember the news." Professor Sprout said, "That was the Philosopher's Stone. Mr. Flamel gave the Philosopher's Stone to Albus, and Albus stored the Philosopher's Stone in Gringotts. But one day, I don't know why, he suddenly decided to take the Philosopher's Stone out and keep it in Hogwarts. As a result, someone broke into the vault illegally that day... Fortunately, the things had been taken away."

Anthony gradually completed the puzzle. Then these professors were undoubtedly invited to set traps, which would lead to the rooms and corridors he saw.

Professor Bubbaji held her breath and asked: "And what about the Philosopher's Stone?" Without waiting for anyone to answer, she slapped her forehead and said, "Oh, I know, that corridor!"

"Albus asked each of us to think of some way to guard the Sorcerer's Stone." Professor McGonagall said calmly, "Then, yes, it is the forbidden corridor. Coincidentally, Quirrell also participated "

At this moment, the door to the lounge was pushed open with a loud bang. Professor Kettleburn limped into the staff room waving a piece of parchment.

"So many people - did you all see it?" he asked.

The professors quickly sent a chair flying to his feet, and he unceremoniously threw away his crutches, sat down, and rubbed his remaining half of a leg.

"What happened to your leg, Sylvanos?" Professor Sprout asked concerned.

Professor Kettleburn complained: "The wooden thorns are stuck in... My wooden legs need to be repaired again..."

Professor Flitwick said: "I really recommend that you change to a set of metal prostheses. Most alchemical products are actually made of metal...especially these things that will make most magic ineffective. Since the repair spell cannot be used, it is better to find something sturdy. Yes."

"No," Professor Kettleburn refused decisively. "I like my arms and legs to be banged, not clanked."

Professor McGonagall asked, "Why are you down here, Sylvanos?"

At the same time, Professor Flitwick jumped down from his chair as if he couldn't stand it, pointed his wand at Professor Kettleburn's leg, and said something.

"It really works!" Professor Kettleburn said happily, putting his legs comfortably on the footstool. "Where did you learn this trick?"

Professor Flitwick said: "St. Mungo's... I went there in the morning and met a few students with whom I have a good relationship."

"You should go more often." Professor Kettleburn said casually, and then answered Professor McGonagall's question, "I came as soon as I saw the notification letter you sent. Is this true?"

"What, about Quirrell?" Professor McGonagall said, "Yes, it's true."

Professor Kettleburn said cheerfully: "That's great, can we cancel the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam?"

The staff room was quiet for a moment. Anthony soon realized that it was not just Voldemort who had escaped, but also a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who had not yet submitted his final exam.

He glanced at the serious-looking Professor McGonagall, then met Professor Sprout's eyes and both smiled. Part of Professor McGonagall's brain was fiercely opposed to the proposal to cancel the exam, but another part didn't want to temporarily go to the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

"If you are short of manpower, I think I still have some time... willing to oblige, Minerva," Snape said politely. Anthony turned his head and glanced in surprise - he had been silent so long that Anthony almost forgot that he was there.

Professor McGonagall seemed to have made up her mind: "No, Severus, you need to be responsible for the potions of the seventh grade. You are already very busy. It's time to find something for Albus to do. This year's Defense Against the Dark Arts makes Let him decide."