A Certain Hogwarts Magician Professor

"Let's go in," Harry whispered to Hermione as they walked into Sirius' rental house together.

But there was already someone in the house.

Harry stared at the unshaven stranger with ginger tousled hair that looked like Crookshanks after a few rolls in the mud. He swaggered against the sofa, his short looped legs lounging over the table, as if asleep.

"Who are you!" Harry and Hermione drew their wands at the same time.

Crookshanks fell to the ground, making a menacing cry.

The man in the tattered coat was awakened, he rolled over and sat up, looked up to see a sparkling wand pressed against his neck, and raised his hand obediently in surrender.

"My name is Mundungus Fletcher, and I have been entrusted by Dumbledore to protect you," said the squat man.

"You're lying," Hermione said sharply. "How could Dumbledore send you, you—"

Mundungus gave her an aggrieved look. "What's wrong with me? I work for Dumbledore and Hep at the same time, and I joined the Order of the Phoenix more than ten years ago..."

"But why are you here? This is the house Sirius rented," Harry asked, continuing to point his wand at the man.

"He asked me to come, and he can't go away now." Mundungus leaned back cautiously.

"So you're the one who came to tell me to leave early?" Harry's eyes widened, "but you didn't do anything, but slept here." He said angrily, because the information was not correct, and he almost misunderstood Hermione.

Mundungs ​​pointed to his flabby and bloodshot eyes, "Look at me, I just finished a big event, and I was so sleepy that I couldn't open my eyes. I came early, and I wanted to sleep for a while... I didn't expect that. You found it yourself."

"You were busy with the Order of the Phoenix before?"

"Almost," Mundungus said vaguely.

"But aren't you under orders to protect Harry?"

"Cough, there is a temporary task..."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, no matter how they looked at him, they thought this guy was suspicious and his eyes were sneaky.

"Since you're the one sent to inform Harry, you, um, should know where we're going?" Hermione asked.

"I can't say the exact address, at least not now, until—" Mundungus said, waving his hand. "Wait, don't be impulsive, it's Black House!"

Harry and Hermione put their wands down.

"How do I get out of here?"

"Through that," Mundungus pointed to the fireplace, "floo network."

"What about the time?"

"Seven o'clock, there's another person waiting, and he has a note in his hand," mumbled Mundungus. "Don't ask me, I don't know who it is."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, and they almost guessed who it was.

"What was the note you just mentioned?"

"The specific address written down by the secrecy serves as the key to the Faithful Charm," Mundungus explained. "The place we are going has been casted on the Faithful Charm. After the spell is cast, no one can reveal this address to the outside world, nor will outsiders. There is no way to find it, only the secrecy person has the right to decide who to disclose the secret to. When we talk about it, we will not take it into account.”

Harry and Hermione believed him temporarily, but the necessary cross-examination was still necessary.

"You know Sirius well?" Harry asked.

"Of course, I often borrow the fireplace here, safe, hidden! Not under Ministry of Magic!" Mundungus said.

"Not regulated?"

"Yeah, I guess the people of the Black family must have paid a lot of money to get this technology. Think about it, if I also master it, I can set up secret strongholds all over the world, how convenient it will be! It's perfect! Avoid the Ministry of Magic!" said Mundungus triumphantly, raving about his grand plan.

Unfortunately, the plan is stuck on the first step.

"Mr. Fletcher—"

"Just call me Mundungus, little girl, I'm not a noble person." Mundungus said, scratching his unshaven chin.

"Okay," Hermione's voice paused, "I heard that connecting to a private fireplace requires permission from the owner—and wizards are not allowed to connect Muggle fireplaces to the Floo network unless there is a valid reason..."

Mundungus waved his hand.

"The rules are dead. You know what I mean." He winked at Hermione, tacitly funny, "You dare to say that Sirius' ancestors never set up a private Floo network? And the Ministry of Magic ——Hmph, it’s just to put it nicely…”

He started rummaging through his pockets, finally pulling out a dirty black pipe and stuffing it into his mouth before looking up at Harry and Hermione.

"Do you mind?"

"What? Oh, uh, of course not—"

"Thank you." He lit his pipe with his wand and took a deep breath. A few seconds later, a large plume of greenish, stinky smoke came out, and "a few sips every hour to pick up—" Mundungus said in the smoke, as if explaining to them.

Harry and Hermione shrank quietly across the sofa, away from him.

"Do you want something to eat, Hermione?" Harry asked loudly.

"Since you said that..." Hermione glanced at the smoke that was expanding outwards and stood up decisively: "I am indeed hungry."

They walked towards the kitchen.

"Bring one for me too, thanks—" Mundungus called from the living room.

"Can you cook?" Hermione whispered in the kitchen.

"A little while later. I practiced at the Dursleys. How about you?"

"Me too," Hermione said guiltily.

Harry's hand touched the refrigerator door. "Crap," he said.

"how--"

The refrigerator door was opened, except for two tomatoes on the top layer, which was empty. Harry reached out and fiddled with it, and the tomatoes showed a large moldy spot.

"I forgot that Sirius didn't eat much at home during this time," said Harry.

Hermione blinked. "Can you accept compressed cookies?"

"I'm suddenly not very hungry," Harry said hurriedly. "Just finished eating."

"Me too," said Hermione, narrowing her eyes.

In the end, only Mundungus got the compressed biscuits, and neither Harry nor Hermione had an appetite, because the smell of burnt socks was everywhere in the house, and Harry had to open the windows to ventilate.

At this time, he saw a familiar figure walking across the road.

"Professor?" he said with delight.

Felix glanced at Harry in front of the window, nodded with a smile, and was immediately stimulated by the smell of the room.

"The whirlwind sweeps away."

Harry and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as the smoke and dust in the room was swept away by a whirlwind, and Hermione took a deep breath.

"I arrived half an hour early and found you're gone," Felix said to Harry and Hermione, "and then got stuck on something and took some time to convince your (your) family."

"You saw the Dursleys?" Harry cried.

More than that, Felix thought. He glanced at Hermione, her parents were also very persistent, and seemed to know that he was coming, so they stayed on the side of the road to block him in advance.

"I see," Felix said briefly, "your cousin got into some trouble. When he saw me, he kept squeaking, and your uncle almost rushed up to beat me..."

Harry looked at him inexplicably.

"...I found out later that it was your cousin who stole the ice mouse from Duke Honey, and it has nothing to do with me."

Felix looked at the clock hanging on the wall, "It's almost there." He pulled out a note from his pocket and handed it to Harry, "You two look it over and remember this address, you won't need it later. already."

Harry and Hermione took it, and the note read "12 Grimmauld Place". The two remembered it several times, and then the note turned to ashes.

"Professor, are you the keeper of Black's old house?"

"I'm not," Felix didn't elaborate. "Dumbledore was, and he provided the note."

At exactly seven o'clock, an emerald-green flame rose from the fireplace.

"According to the agreement, we have about two minutes, hurry up." Felix pushed Harry to the fireplace and urged: "If you have any questions, talk about it over there."

He packed all his luggage in the ring.

Harry hugged Hedwig, stood in the flames, shouted "12 Grimmauld Place", the figure spun and disappeared, followed by Hermione, Mundungus holding Crookshanks, Felix finally standing by the fireplace.

"Master Harry," said a low, hoarse voice.

Harry was startled, his glasses were blocked by the thick dust, and he vaguely saw a thin figure.

"Kreacher?" he asked tentatively.

"It's Kreacher!" said the elderly house-elf happily, pulling out a feather duster from behind to help Harry clean the dust.

"Oh, thank you—thank you, no, I can do it myself—"

Harry said he saw a small square dangling in front of his eyes, and he took off his glasses and wiped them on his clothes.

At this time, Hermione, Mundungus and Felix also came.

Harry finished cleaning his glasses and stared at the green thing just now—a locket hanging from Kreacher's chest.

"Sirius gave this to you?" Harry asked in surprise. This thing was Regulus's relic, a fake Horcrux. Kreacher had seen it through a two-way mirror before, but he thought it was an imitation. , did not expect it to be true.

"The owner was very generous, and he allowed me to keep this thing," Kreacher said.

At this moment, a man rushed out of the living room.

"Remus," Felix greeted, "I didn't expect to meet again so soon, your mission accomplished?"

"Yeah," said Lupin oddly.

"I'm going to change my clothes, and then go to the study for a while, you can answer their questions," Felix said.

Lupin nodded: "Leave it to me."

"I'll go to bed, too, and call me when I eat," Mundungus said, yawning and walking toward the living room sofa.

"The professor also joined the Order of the Phoenix?" Harry asked with interest, staring at Felix's back as he disappeared down the stairs.

"He didn't," said Lupin, "but he's on our side, an ally—"