Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

“That’s not saying much, seeing as you’re already dead,” Ron interrupted again.

He had just finished eating the piece of cake when he heard Nick’s last words.

“Once again, you show all the sensitivity of a blunt axe,” said Nearly Headless Nick in affronted tones.

He rose into the air and glided back toward the far end of the Gryffindor table, ignoring everyone’s attempts to call him back.

“Ron, you shouldn’t have said that!”

“Then what should I say? There was something wrong with what he said in the first place. How could a ghost die again?” said Ron. “In my opinion, few of the things Nick said can be believed. They are always like this, asking around for gossips…”

Just then, Dumbledore got to his feet at the staff table, cutting off Ron and Hermione’s argument.

Evan and Harry were relieved, grateful not to be caught in the middle of their bickering, and the talk and laughter echoing around the Hall died away almost instantly.

“The very best of evenings to you!” said Dumbledore, smiling broadly, his arms opened wide as though to embrace the whole room.

His wide sleeves slid down, revealing his right hand and part of his forearm, which were marked with intricate spellwork.

The markings radiated from the Gaunt family ring at the center, snaking up his arm. The color seemed to be darker than a month ago. From a distance, the spell made Dumbledore’s hand appear a strange dark green color, as though poisoned.

“Look, what happened to his hand?”

“It was like that when we saw him over the summer,” Hermione explained quietly, so that only the group could hear her. “He told Professor Slughorn it was due to a magical mishap.”

“Strange, I thought he’d have cured it by now,” Harry followed.

“There are some injuries you can’t cure… common with old curses…” said Hermione, staring at Dumbledore’s hand with a look of pain on her face. “These magical spells, whatever they are, seem to be getting worse, which can’t be a good sign.”

“Evan, do you know what that is?” Elaine asked.

“I don’t know,” Evan shook his head. “I’ve never seen such magic or curse.”

Hermione was right. They seemed to have become more serious. What did that mean?

Was the backlash from the magic failure getting worse? Or had Dumbledore used some spell in the past month that worsened the curse?

It wasn’t just him; it seemed everyone was dealing with something unexpected.

Many people had noticed the abnormality of Dumbledore’s right hand, and whispers swept the Hall.

Dumbledore, interpreting them correctly, merely smiled and shook his purple-and-gold sleeve over his injury.

“Nothing to worry about,” he said airily. “Now… to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you…”

He spoke about the welcome and things that needed attention, but few people were listening seriously. Everyone was whispering about what they’d just seen.

“Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to say that there is a blanket ban on any joke items bought at the shop called Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes,” Dumbledore continued. “And those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams should give their names to their Heads of House as usual. We are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise.

“We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn” — Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight, his big waistcoated belly casting the table below into shadow — “is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master.”

“What? Potions?”

“Potions?”

“How could it be Potions?”

The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether they had heard right.

Evan didn’t look at Harry and the others, but he could guess their expressions. They must be extremely surprised.

“Professor Snape, meanwhile,” said Dumbledore, raising his voice so that it carried over all the muttering, “will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

“No!” said Harry, so loudly that many heads turned in his direction. He did not care; he was staring up at the staff table, incensed. How could Snape be given the Defense Against the Dark Arts job after all this time? Hadn’t it been widely known for years that Dumbledore did not trust him to do it?

“Keep your voice down, Harry!” Hermione warned, “You’re overreacting.”

“I just can’t accept that Snape should teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. It should be Slughorn…”

“Dumbledore never said Slughorn would teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. That was all our speculation.”

Yes, Slughorn had taken up the position of Potions Master, and he would never volunteer to teach such a dangerous subject as Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Especially considering that this position was rumored to be jinxed by Voldemort, with nearly every teacher who’d held it meeting an unfortunate end. Besides, Defense Against the Dark Arts was a course meant to prepare students to face Voldemort and other Dark wizards — Slughorn’s style wasn’t suited to that at all.

Of course he had opted to return to his old position, Potions Master.

And with that, Snape finally got what he had long desired.

Snape, who was sitting on Dumbledore’s right, did not stand up at the mention of his name; he merely raised a hand in lazy acknowledgment of the applause from the Slytherin table, with a hint of smug joy on his face.

“Well, there’s one good thing about this,” said Harry savagely. “Snape’ll be gone in less than a year.”

“What do you mean?” asked Ron.

“We all know that job’s jinxed. No one’s lasted more than a year. The lucky ones were like Lupin and Sirius, while the unlucky ones, like Quirrell and Barty Crouch Jr., even died doing it… Personally, I’m going to keep my fingers crossed for another death….”

“Harry!” said Hermione, shocked and reproachful.

The three of them were not the only ones who had been talking; the whole Hall had erupted in a buzz of conversation at the news that Snape had finally achieved his heart’s desire.

The news was somehow even more intriguing than the strange markings on Dumbledore’s arm. Seemingly oblivious to the sensational nature of the news he had just imparted, Dumbledore said nothing more about staff appointments, but waited a few seconds to ensure that the silence was absolute before continuing….

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