Chapter 14: The Story Douglas Forgot
Just as Douglas was about to reach out to the still life painting, it suddenly swung open from the inside like a door.
A sharp, excited voice came with it.
"Mr. Holmes! Qian heard your voice, sir—Qian simply couldn't help himself!"
Standing in the opening was a house-elf a little over two feet tall, thin and slight, wearing what looked like a scarf embroidered with the Hogwarts crest as clothing. His ears were as large as a bat's, and his enormous emerald-green eyes bulged so far from their sockets that Douglas sometimes felt they might fall straight out if not for the support of his long nose.
The instant the elf saw Douglas properly, he let out a shriek of delight.
Then, just as quickly, his expression changed to panic, and he lurched toward the wall as though preparing to smash his own head against it.
Douglas reacted at once and caught him.
He knew this place far too well.
Just beside the Hufflepuff common room and directly beneath the Great Hall—
the perfect location.
A vast kitchen.
A haven for night wanderers and gluttons alike.
A kingdom ruled by house-elves, where a student with enough goodwill could be treated like nobility.
Once Douglas stepped inside, he found at least a hundred house-elves standing in neat rows before four long tables arranged exactly like those in the hall above.
The moment they saw him, smiles lit their faces.
Then, almost as one, they bowed deeply and dropped to their knees.
Qian hurriedly led Douglas toward the small side kitchen tucked into one corner of the enormous room.
As they walked, several more elves rushed forward carrying a large silver tray.
On it stood a cup of freshly brewed tea and a plate of newly baked pastries.
Both were things Douglas himself had once taught them to make.
The elves looked at him so expectantly that Douglas picked up a pastry at once and took a bite.
It was not quite as authentic as what he had eaten during his travels in Hong Kong.
But it was still very good.
The moment they saw the pleased look on his face, the house-elves' joy became impossible to hide.
They set the tea and snacks gently on the nearby table, bowed again, and retreated.
Inside one of the greenhouses, Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at Professor Sprout, who was crouched among rows of magical plants with her sleeves rolled up.
"Pomona, Mr. Holmes has gone to the kitchens."
Sprout, wearing a thick hat patched in several places and with mud on her robes, did not even stand.
She merely looked up from where she was kneeling beside a writhing plant and rolled her eyes at her old friend.
"Minerva, that's cheating. He hasn't even come to see me yet."
McGonagall only shrugged.
"I did not prevent this outstanding Hufflepuff from visiting you first."
She folded her arms.
"In any case, you lost. So half your fruit supply for this term is mine."
Professor Sprout gave a highly dissatisfied snort.
Still, she nodded.
Hufflepuffs never lacked fruit.
Originally, she had been quite sure Douglas would come to see her first after arriving at the castle.
Instead, after all this time, he still hadn't shown his face.
She sighed inwardly.
Typical.
Just like so many graduates.
The moment they left school, they forgot all about their old professors.
At that exact moment, far away in the Hogwarts kitchens, Douglas sprinkled chili powder into a pot and sneezed violently.
"Ah—"
He rubbed his nose, then nodded at the pot in satisfaction.
"Very nice. Strong flavor."
Soon enough, it was one o'clock in the afternoon.
After finishing the cooking, Douglas returned briefly to his rooms, then made his way to the staff room.
By the time he entered, the Hogwarts professors were already gathered around the great round table at the center.
The table was covered with dishes.
Dumbledore sat at the center, with McGonagall and Snape nearest him.
Professor Sprout sat beside McGonagall, while Professor Flitwick sat beside Snape.
There was an empty seat next to Sprout.
Beyond that sat Professor Sinistra of Astronomy, Professor Babbling of Ancient Runes, and the others in order.
The moment Professor Sprout saw Douglas, she smiled gently and rose.
Douglas crossed the room quickly and gave her a warm hug.
Then, before sitting down, he reached into his bag and pulled out a book.
He handed it to her with both hands.
It was Experiments on Plant Hybridization by the Muggle scholar Gregor Mendel.
Herbology in the wizarding world had changed very little in centuries. The same magical plants were still cultivated in the same ways they had been for hundreds of years.
Douglas had always felt that Professor Sprout, lovable as she was, deserved the chance to go further.
Sprout accepted the book and looked down at the title.
She recognized every word.
Yet placed together, they meant almost nothing to her.
Still, she did not reject the gift.
On the contrary, she seemed genuinely moved that Douglas had chosen something so thoughtfully suited to her.
Douglas did not explain it just yet.
Instead, he immediately began taking out the other gifts he had prepared and distributing them around the table.
Only the official Hogwarts professors were present at the luncheon—with the obvious exception of Professor Binns, who taught History of Magic and being dead did not usually trouble himself with such events.
Other staff members, like Hagrid, Filch, Madam Hooch, and Madam Pince, had not been invited.
Douglas gave something to nearly every professor.
The only exception was the Muggle Studies professor who had joined after Douglas himself graduated.
All the others had once been his teachers.
As a new colleague, Douglas was naturally received far more warmly than most.
Even Professor Snape—who disliked him more openly than anyone else—accepted the book Douglas had brought him on laboratory management, though only after Dumbledore had spoken a few quiet words.
The photographs of spotless, perfectly organized workspaces had gone a long way toward persuading Snape.
Anything related to Potions cleanliness earned his respect.
By seven o'clock that evening, all the professors had made their way to the Great Hall to welcome the beginning of the new school year.
The hall looked magnificent as ever.
Although the students had not yet all arrived, the four house tables were already set with golden plates and goblets gleaming beneath thousands of floating candles.
The teachers took their places on the raised platform at the front.
Dumbledore sat in the center, expression unreadable, looking as though he were thinking deeply about something.
Douglas took his seat beside Professor Sprout and quietly asked her for a few practical teaching tips.
Before long, the Fat Friar drifted up beside the Hufflepuff table, beaming when he spotted Douglas.
Soon students began to file into the hall and sit beneath their respective banners.
The quiet grandeur of the room dissolved instantly into noise and life.
Douglas glanced over the crowd and recognized many familiar faces.
After all, he had only been gone from Hogwarts for three years.
Plenty of younger students still remembered him.
Quite a few fifth-, sixth-, and seventh-years had clearly recognized him too.
A low murmur spread through the hall as word passed from table to table.
Everyone seemed astonished that someone who had graduated only three years earlier had already returned as a professor.
Especially since, in Douglas's own year, there had been a truly outstanding student named Bill Weasley who had overshadowed everyone else academically.
Douglas had not even been the very best in his class.
He paid the whispers no mind and kept scanning the room.
Then, when his gaze reached the Gryffindor table, he paused and looked again.
No Harry.
No Ron either.
For a moment Douglas simply stared.
Then the memory hit him.
Of course.
In the original story, Harry and Ron had missed the proper journey to Hogwarts because of Dobby.
They had ended up taking the flying car.
During dinner the previous evening, Harry had mentioned Dobby—but Douglas, assuming that Lucius would keep his distance from the Weasleys after their encounter and that nothing serious could go wrong while Harry was with the family, had not connected the pieces quickly enough.
Part of the problem was simply time.
He had been in this world for more than twenty years now.
He had never benefited particularly much from a traveler's prophetic advantage.
Most of the original plot had done very little to help him survive daily life at Hogwarts.
So over time, much of it had faded.
As Douglas was still cursing himself inwardly, he noticed Percy glancing repeatedly toward the Ravenclaw table.
Hermione was speaking to him urgently.
Then Percy looked toward the staff table with obvious anxiety.
The twins, seated nearby, were grinning as though they found the whole thing highly entertaining.
Percy searched the teachers' platform and found that McGonagall and Snape were not in their seats.
Only then did he remember that McGonagall had gone to fetch the first-years.
His face fell at once.
Then his eyes met Douglas's.
They lit up immediately.
Percy jumped to his feet and hurried toward the staff table, with Hermione close behind him.
The moment he reached Douglas, he burst out:
"Professor—Ron and Harry are missing!"
Before Douglas could answer, Dumbledore coughed softly from further down the table.
"Do not worry, my boy. I believe Harry and Mr. Weasley will be perfectly all right."
His tone was mild.
"Severus has already gone to look for them."
Then he added gently,
"Now do sit down. I imagine dinner will begin very shortly."
As he spoke, he handed over a copy of the Daily Prophet.
Professor Sprout took it, glanced down, and began reading aloud.
"Ford Anglia Flies — Muggles Astonished."
She lifted her voice slightly.
"Two Muggles in London are convinced they saw an old car flying over the Post Office… in Norfolk at noon, Mrs. Heidi Bayliss was hanging out washing… Mr. Angus Fleet, of Peebles, reported to the police… in all, six or seven Muggles have come forward…"
When she finished, she looked at Percy in astonishment.
Then she looked at Douglas.
Percy's face had gone deathly pale.
He knew perfectly well that his father had modified that car without notifying the Ministry.
Douglas snapped his fingers lightly in front of Percy's face, drawing him back to himself.
Then Douglas winked and said in an easy voice:
"Breathe first. Panicking won't get them here any faster."
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