Having borrowed the books, Vid continued to ask questions—the content about Spellcasting was already explained in detail in Professor Flitwick’s book, so he was asking about spells related to Defense Against the Dark Arts, like the Iron Armor Spell, Disarming Spell, Impedinta Curse, and so on.
The level of Hogwarts’ Defense Against the Dark Arts class is known to those who know. Professor Flitwick didn’t ask him to consult Quirrell, but instead answered patiently and in detail, and even lent him a few more books.
Vid was deeply grateful.
There’s only one magic school in the United Kingdom, and the professors there don’t consider KPIs, nor publicly compare pass rates or excellence rates, let alone conduct year-end evaluations or performance reviews. The professors teach purely out of conscience; there are those who are diligent and responsible, those who slack off every day, and those who teach whatever they feel like, completely ignoring the fact that students have to take the Wizarding Level exams.
After asking his questions, Vid rembered Griffiths’ request and asked, "Professor, a portrait is complaining that its current location is too quiet and wants to help move it to the lively entrance hall. Is that possible?"
Professor Flitwick asked, "Is it a portrait with a position?"
So Hogwarts portraits have guarding duties, such as the portrait of the Fat Lady outside the Gryffindor Common Room, and naturally can’t be moved lightly.
Vid thought for a mont, "Probably not. He said he originally was in the entrance hall but was moved to the Astronomical Tower to make room for other portraits."
"Oh, oh, I know who you’re talking about." Professor Flitwick smiled, "Griffiths was moved mainly because many portraits complained that he disturbed their sleep and incited Peeves to play pranks on visiting Ministry of Magic officials. The headmaster and professors at the ti thought he needed a lesson, so he was moved to the quietest place in the school."
"So his request—" Vid cautiously asked.
"Liking lively places isn’t a cri." Professor Flitwick said generously, "As long as he promises not to encourage Peeves to cause trouble, you can move him. But the entrance hall is probably not an option; many portraits there have issues with Griffiths."
...
"Oh well, okay, okay. But I really don’t understand why they don’t like pranks. Pranks bring a lot of joy to people!"
Griffiths defended himself while quickly darting back and forth between a few surrounding portraits—
"Hey, old man, I’m leaving—Shalom, if you write to when you’re not calculating, I’d be delighted, though I’m not sure I’ll receive it—Barry, and dear Francisco, thank you for your hospitality, this is my farewell gift!"
After unhooking the portrait, Vid watched as Griffiths turned the stargazing old man’s telescope 180 degrees, stole the quill and ink from the bespectacled witch, and finally poured the ink on a troubleso kid’s head and stuffed the quill into another kid’s nostril.
After disturbing all the portraits, he quickly darted back to his own portrait and loudly urged Vid, "Let’s go! Let’s go!"
But portraits don’t adhere to spatial distance. Even though Vid was carrying the portrait away from the corridor, the people in the other portraits chased into Griffiths’ territory and pinned down the red-haired wizard to give him a beating.
The bespectacled witch was furious for the first ti; she kicked Griffiths hard and scread, "Do you know how long it took to calculate? How long!"
The troubleso kids seed to treat Griffiths as a trampoline, bouncing and jumping on him, shouting loudly.
The stargazing old man caught up last, hit twice with all his might, then seed to strain his back and returned holding his waist in pain.
Vid couldn’t intervene in the fight within the portraits. After everyone had dispersed, he looked at Griffiths, resembling a pile of mush, and asked helplessly, "You’re about to leave, yet you brought upon yourself a beating; what’s the point?"
"Haha, you don’t understand." Griffiths turned over with the imprint of a foot on his forehead, lay on the grass in the valley, and laughed heartily, "Isn’t this the perfect farewell ceremony?"
Vid indeed didn’t understand.
Griffiths placed his hands behind his head, gazing at the sky, "I don’t want to leave quietly; before they realize ’ah, that red-haired guy seems to be gone,’ it might be a long ti. Nor do I want farewells to be filled with grief and tears; a playful tussle leaves everyone cheerful at the end— is that not great?"
Vid pondered for a mont, "So, it’s like—everyone gets joy, and only you get hurt; is that it?"
Griffiths was taken aback, then laughed loudly, "Vid, you do understand humor!"
As he laughed, the chaotic scene in the portrait gradually restored— the footprints on Griffiths disappeared, the torn robe nded, the trampled flowers and grass returned upright, and the broken tree branches regrew.
Only the bruises on his face hadn’t completely faded.
"Griffiths, you must have been a Gryffindor, right?" Vid asked while hanging the portrait on the wall.
"Of course! Isn’t it obvious?" Griffiths grasped the fra, trying to peek on both sides, "What’s this place?"
"You can’t return to the entrance hall; this is the path from the dining hall to the library, almost all students pass by here every day, it should et your requirents." Vid said.
"Oh, nice, nice." Griffiths was very pleased.
In the corridor, so portraits quietly observed this "newcor," while others whispered together.
Hermione was passing by with a stack of books, accompanied by two familiar people—Harry and Ron. They seed to have just returned from the library and were quietly arguing.
"I’d bet my flying broomstick—it was definitely Snape who let the Troll in! He wants to steal the thing guarded by the three-headed dog." Harry said, holding his breath.
"No, he wouldn’t!" Hermione said angrily, "You can’t maliciously speculate about the school’s professor!"
"Honestly, Hermione, you always think the teachers are saints!" Ron said impatiently, "But I’ve said it—I! Personally! Saw! When the Troll appeared, I went to find you guys, I saw Snape sneak upstairs! Harry also saw Snape’s leg bleeding profusely. Why do you ignore these facts, just because he’s a professor?"
"I trust him not just because he’s a professor but also because of Dumbledore! If he’s a bad guy, Dumbledore wouldn’t have failed to see it for over a decade!"
Hermione stomped ahead angrily, unwilling to argue any further, and shouted, "Hey, Vid, heading to study? Let’s go together."
"Um—okay." Hermione’s deanor left no room for refusal. Vid nodded at Harry and Ron, then turned to leave with Hermione.
"—Unreasonable, right?" Ron said with a frown, "Can’t Dumbledore be fooled by Snape? Even rlin got tricked sotis!"
Harry nodded silently, firmly believing Snape was the bad guy.
"Good afternoon, students!" A cheerful voice ca from the wall, "You’re Gryffindors, aren’t you? I’m a Gryffindor too. I’m Griffiths, what about you?"
Ron said, "He’s Harry Potter, and I’m Ron Weasley. We haven’t seen you before, have we?"
"Yeah, because I just moved here today!" Griffiths recalled, "Weasley and Potter, I think I knew so wizards by those surnas before, likely your ancestors?"
"Really?"
Even Harry beca interested now, and the two temporarily forgot their previous topic and started chatting with the portrait on the wall.
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