Chapter 521: Graduation Season

After the pleasant holiday ended and Harry returned to school, he resumed thinking about the things he had to do. Of course, after witnessing Ron and Ivy’s bold kiss at another dance, he no longer considered interfering in their relationship, instead focusing more on other matters.

The most urgent was, of course, the Chinese authorities’ constant pressure regarding his marriage to Zhang Qiu, but clearly Harry needed to complete his graduation. So, the overly eager Lin Shuanghe quickly provided him with a very long report written from the perspective of a [Hogwarts Senior Investigator], filled with numerous reform suggestions for the existing system and teaching methods, just like the report issued years ago by the Ministry of Magic.

But after Harry cut out the impractical parts, he sadly found that only a few pages remained suitable for his graduation thesis.

"Just stop already," Ron said one day, watching Harry scratch his head while organizing the report. "Arnold submitted a few-hundred-page report back then, and no one read it. Honestly, this is just a make-work assignment—why feel guilty? We've turned in plagiarized or half-baked work more than once."

Harry rolled his eyes at him; Ron was always cutting corners, but Harry himself always tried to finish his assignments properly.

“And as you said,” Ron pointed at the desk covered in parchment, “even after removing all the impractical stuff, there’s still this much left.”

“But all this is just fluff,” Harry sighed. “Dozens of pages describing Hogwarts’ current state—who doesn’t know that? I need to state my views clearly and concisely, not… sigh! And this fluff drowns out my points—no one will read the report!”

“If you truly want to reform this school, go talk to Snape—not write such a long, stinking report,” Neville cut straight to the core of the issue.

“How much attention does the old bat even pay to the school anymore?” Ron grumbled. “Everyone knows he’s going to be a college dean—why would he care about Hogwarts?”

“The question is, which college?” Neville posed the question with subtle implication.

Harry slowed his thesis editing unconsciously, beginning to ponder the question himself. Yes, after Cambridge opened the Royal Kalia College to offer higher education to magical students, Oxford had soon announced it would admit a cohort of magical students under the name Pheim Long College.

Clearly, anyone with insight in the magical world could see the two colleges represented opposing directions: Cambridge was backed by the Muggle monarchy, tied to the Ministry’s ongoing push for “the legitimacy of wizard governance in the post-Secrecy Act era”; while Oxford was backed by the old conservative magical families led by the Malfoys, who wished to preserve magical purity in higher education and avoid “Muggle contamination.”

Amidst the summer when nearly every professor hinted at leaving, Hogwarts was undergoing its greatest upheaval ever—a graduation season marked by unprecedented disunity. Harry’s carefully considered reforms—interdisciplinary projects, transparent house rankings, expanded prefect duties—now seemed to have no audience.

“I think it’s almost certainly Long College—he’s always been cut from the same cloth as those nobles,” Ron said. “Though Kalia College isn’t impossible either—he is a Senior Deputy Minister, after all.”

“Yes, Snape has reasons to go to both,” Neville said seriously, “but he also has reasons to go to neither. His roles are too numerous. The most likely outcome is he stays on as headmaster of Hogwarts.”

Harry didn’t join their conversation; he kept editing his thesis, trying to expand the sections where he offered opinions so they wouldn’t be drowned out by the fluff—yet he couldn’t bring himself to delete the fluff either, because he subconsciously felt a longer thesis couldn’t hurt.

But just days later, Hestia Jones, the newly appointed professor of Charms, rushed into Hogwarts—her beloved, forever-favored school—bringing with her the news that Professor Flitwick would be moving to Kalia College. The topic ignited fresh heated discussion among the students.

As Harry stepped onto the grounds, several Gryffindors immediately surrounded him, clamoring for him to explain the school’s future—though he’d clearly just been on a date with Zhang Qiu, everyone assumed he’d just returned from some important meeting.

Looking at the young faces of his juniors, Harry hesitated. Yes, as a graduating student, he didn’t need to care about faculty changes—but for these still-learning children, offering some reassurance was necessary.

So, in the Gryffindor common room, as the student with the most direct information, Harry began explaining the school’s changes.

“What’s confirmed is that Professor Flitwick will become Deputy Head of Kalia College, primarily teaching Charms and modern dueling—this should be the news you’ve already heard,” Harry paused. “Also, Professor Sinistra and Madam Pomfrey are going to Kalia College; Professor Slughorn and Professor Sprout are going to Long College—this was already decided.”

“And I know what you’re wondering about—I’ll say it plainly: Snape will become headmaster of Long College, and Professor McGonagall will take over as headmistress of Hogwarts,” Harry said seriously. “It’s still a theory, but I’m ninety percent sure.”

“Why so certain?” Neville frowned.

“Because if he doesn’t go, Long College probably won’t open at all,” Harry laid out his reasoning. “You might not know, but within the Ministry’s upper echelons, factional lines are emerging—triggered by the Prime Minister’s post-Secrecy Act theory.”

As he spoke, Hermione stepped out of her dormitory and naturally paused to listen.

“We all know the current Prime Minister was promoted from Minister of Magic. His view of the current state is that the Muggle Prime Minister must understand magic—and the best way is for a wizard to become the Muggle Prime Minister. At first, this won near-universal support from the magical world, since even the old pure-bloods couldn’t reject the idea of ‘wizard rule over Muggles.’ But this raised a problem: the wizard Prime Minister must understand Muggle affairs, meaning wizards would have to study Muggle subjects—which the old pure-bloods found unacceptable.” Harry summarized the political currents of the past year. “Meanwhile, our Minister of Magic is a strange neutralist—curious about everything Muggle, yet adamantly refusing to engage in Muggle affairs. Though neutral, he’s a member of the Order of the Phoenix, while Dolohov is actively involved in Muggle affairs—undoubtedly aligned with the Prime Minister.”

“Add to that the Voldemort affair—conservatives have been on the defensive before the Ministry and the Prime Minister. With the Order’s backing, I once thought they’d fade away completely. But clearly, our wizard Prime Minister isn’t popular among Muggles; some Muggle politicians have allied with magical conservatives—enemies of my enemy is my friend—and so they’ve mustered the courage to voice resistance. That’s how Long College came to be.”

“So, if you were Snape—a powerful figure who could choose to back either side—how would you decide?” Harry looked around at his classmates. “If Snape sides with the Prime Minister, Long College will struggle to survive in the magical world; if he sides with the conservatives, the balance remains.”

“But why not let those arrogant nobles taste what it’s like to struggle?” a chubby boy in the crowd said.

“If our headmaster wanted to do that,” Harry recalled the past few years’ shifts, “he could’ve done it during the first wave of post-war purges—but he didn’t. In fact, he’s always believed in preserving some dissent. Maybe we don’t agree with that mindset on some issues, but at least in higher education, I think a little healthy competition isn’t a bad thing—don’t you?”

To Harry’s surprise, after he finished speaking, few in the crowd looked enlightened or thoughtful. Instead, many wore expressions of dissatisfaction; some began muttering, “Snape’s clearly one of them.”

“Uh, classmates, we could try stepping beyond house bias and understand Snape more broadly,” Harry awkwardly explained.

“But broadly speaking, isn’t it possible he’s always been on the conservative side?” a thin girl said. “That makes sense too.”

“After all, he was sorted into Slytherin,” another voice chimed in.

“If he didn’t vibe with those people, he wouldn’t have been sorted into Slytherin in the first place.” Sharp words began emerging from the crowd.

“I can’t even imagine why he’d cooperate with the Order—probably has ulterior motives…”

Harry tried to steer the conversation back, but the students stubbornly viewed Snape through colored lenses—until, before the topic became irreparable, he promptly dismissed them.

The crowd in the common room dispersed. Harry noticed Hermione had been watching him the whole time, but she seemed to have other business—she simply smiled at him and left. In the end, he walked back to his dormitory with a quiet sense of being misunderstood.