Chapter 1282: Notice Outside the Door

Percy felt a bad premonition surge up in his heart.

He put down his Quill, walked to the door, yanked it open—and completely froze.

At some point, more than twenty students had already gathered in the corridor, the line stretching all the way to the bend of the stairs, so far he couldn’t see where it ended.

The students weren’t standing in line properly either; some were squatting, some sitting, some trading snacks they’d brought from the Great Hall, and some playing Exploding Snap.

A tall boy took out his Magic Wand and directed a paper airplane to fly up and down the corridor, sometimes landing in someone’s hair, which drew bursts of laughter from everyone.

Their excited, cheerful expressions didn’t look like they were waiting to register or report something; it looked more like they were attending a party.

Percy’s temples started pounding, swelling until his head hurt.

He suppressed his anger and demanded, “What are you all doing here? Don’t you have classes?”

As soon as he spoke, he realized his voice was even sharper than he’d expected.

The boy at the very front of the line looked a bit nervous, a fine sheen of sweat breaking out over his chubby face. He stammered:

“Er… thank you for your concern, Mr. Weasley… but I… I don’t have any classes for the two hours this morning.”

A girl behind him raised her hand and said, “We don’t have classes all morning, but could you please be a bit quicker? Mr. Weasley, we’ve already been waiting a long time.”

“Yeah, exactly!”

The students in the back started shouting: “I want to go to the pitch later to join the Maze challenge game!”

“I’ve arranged to meet someone in the library.”

“And I’ve got Magic Potion Class this afternoon. Mr. Weasley, if we miss class because we’re busy registering, could you explain it to Professor Snape for us? After all, the Ministry of Magic’s requirements should take priority, right?”

This was a wildly optimistic Gryffindor.

His companions immediately burst into loud laughter: “Hahaha, White, if you dare say that, next time Professor Snape will pour poison straight down your throat!”

The student called “White” instantly showed a very regretful expression, then asked with renewed hope:

“Mr. Weasley, for this kind of behavior where a professor might inflict both verbal and physical harm on students, doesn’t the Ministry of Magic have any regulations to restrain Professor Snape?”

At this moment Percy felt as if a hole had opened up in his head and a cold wind was howling through it, spinning his whole being around.

He didn’t really hear what the people around him were saying anymore; he only felt that everyone’s mouths were moving, producing all sorts of noises that grated on his nerves.

Just then, Pansy Parkinson’s voice sounded again behind him:

“Mr. Weasley, I still have things to do this morning, I can’t keep reporting to you.”

The Slytherin girl stood up and straightened her Robe, saying, “I’ll leave my report here. You can read it slowly whenever you have time… Everything’s already written very clearly anyway. I hope you can make a fair decision as soon as possible.”

She walked out of the office with her head held high, disappearing down the corridor without looking back.

Percy took a deep breath, and before he could say anything, the student at the front of the line darted into the office, exclaiming:

“It’s finally my turn! Mr. Weasley, I’m here to register the private chat I had with Professor Bin last night…”

“Oh, Professor Bin was probably busy sleeping and didn’t go to check the notice board, so he still doesn’t know that professors aren’t allowed to talk to students alone anymore!”

…

By the time the lunch bell rang, the line had moved less than halfway.

Percy wanted to speed up the registration, but the student sitting in front of him wouldn’t cooperate at all, going on and on about the pain of being ostracized by classmates, sobbing so hard that Percy’s head was full of wails like train whistles.

The afternoon was a repeat of the morning.

The same endless line, the same trivial nonsense.

Every now and then a student would offer one or two pieces of information that Percy would normally have been very interested in—

For example, a report about the quick-acting skive sweets Fred and George had invented, or about Vid Gray’s frequent unexplained disappearances—but all he could do now was mechanically jot it down, with no chance at all to leave his office.

By dinnertime, his hand was so cramped he could barely hold his Quill, and his vision was blurring. A girl in the line, seeing how he was swaying on his feet, said very kindly:

“Mr. Weasley, why don’t you go eat first? I… I can wait a bit longer…”

Percy opened his mouth, just about to say “Thank you for understanding, I’ll go right away,” when two boys suddenly barged in grappling with each other, slamming into him just as he stood up, nearly knocking him over!

“Mr. Weasley, he bought a Dungbomb, he got it from Hogsmeade… and stuffed it into my bag! You’ve got to lock him up and give him detention for a month!”

The Slytherin boy, reeking to high heaven, screamed in fury.

The Gryffindor he’d dragged in by the Robe shouted, “Who told you to insult Lucy first! Mr. Weasley, this guy called people Mudbloods!”

“You’re talking nonsense!”

“Serves you right! A latrine is where you belong! All you Slytherins are rubbish!”

The Slytherins in the line immediately erupted in rage: “What did you say?!”

In an instant, the crowd broke into a brawl, fists and feet flying, rolling from one end of the office to the other, knocking over chairs and teacups.

The corridor was filled with shouting, with people trying to break up the fight, others egging it on; the uproar grew so loud that no one could hear what anyone else was saying anymore.

Percy’s back slammed into the corner of the desk; the pain took him a long time to recover from. Hungry, exhausted, and furious, he just wanted to close his eyes and not face this utter chaos.

In the end it was Professor McGonagall, hurrying over, who stopped the chaos, docking many points from all students involved and giving them detention before the farce finally ended.

But the line still continued.

Percy’s Robe was already wrinkled beyond rescue, and he naturally ended up missing dinner.

The registration went on right up to nearly curfew.

Night fell. Mrs. Loris crouched at the far end of the corridor, watching the students, and let out a “miaow.”

The piercing cat cry instantly awakened some unpleasant memories in everyone’s minds.

Faintly, they could hear Filch’s dragging footsteps coming this way, along with the clink of his key ring.

“Damn, Filch is coming!”

“Don’t let him catch you!”

“Out of the way, Mrs. Loris!”

The students guarding the office door glanced at the time, then scattered in a rush, their pounding footsteps quickly fading down the corridor.

At last, Percy’s ears were quiet.

He locked the door, stood amid the wreckage of the office, glanced at the pitch-black night sky outside the window, then slowly walked back to his chair and collapsed into it.

The chair legs must have been loosened by the earlier impacts; they let out an ugly groan.

Percy’s stomach was also voicing its protest.

He sat motionless, a small mountain of registration forms piled in front of him, all those countless names and all those utterly trivial incidents.

They were stacked on the desk, casting a huge shadow in the candlelight.

He sat there in a daze for a long time before his thoughts seemed to slowly start working again.

Staring at the shifting shadows on the ceiling, a thought gradually surfaced and became unusually clear—

[They don’t want to cooperate… they want to drown me here…]

Clenching his teeth, Percy looked around the silent office and asked himself, “What am I supposed to do?”

…

The next day was Saturday. When the students, free from classes, had fully prepared themselves to kill time and came flocking to Percy’s office, eager to continue yesterday’s “game,” they found the office door firmly locked.

A new notice was posted on the door, the ink not even dry yet, glinting faintly in the morning light.

[Notice Students who wish to file a report, please come to register after 8 a.m. on Monday. A new registration process will be implemented at that time; specific arrangements will be announced separately. Please attend your classes with peace of mind, obey school rules, and do not gather in the corridor to wait. Ministry of Magic Security Envoy: Percy Ignatius Weasley]