Chapter 677: Professor Riddle
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The joy caused by Snape’s stubbornly high fever was, to Hogwarts students, about the same as the school suddenly announcing an unexpected ten-day holiday.
Even the Slytherins felt that way.
Sure, Snape never deducted points from his own House, but that didn’t mean he let his students off easy.
If anything, he was often harsher with them because they were his students. Like a homeroom teacher who expects more from their own class, Snape took poor performance personally. If his students scored badly, it reflected on him in front of the other professors.
Across all of Slytherin, perhaps only Tom, Daphne, and Astoria had never been on the receiving end of one of Snape’s scathing lectures. Everyone else had suffered through his trademark verbal assaults.
The problem was that Snape was also an absolute workaholic.
For years, he had practically never taken a day off. Not only did he refuse to rest himself, he was also strangely enthusiastic about covering Defense Against the Dark Arts classes whenever the opportunity arose.
As far as most students could remember, the last time Snape had ever missed class was due to a workplace injury.
That had been two years ago. Back then, Snape had foolishly ignored all common sense and put Neville and Seamus in the same Potions group.
The result was catastrophic.
The two masters of accidental explosions lived up to their reputation, blowing up an alchemist’s potion. The concoction splashed onto Snape’s face.
Within moments, his skin erupted with blisters, turning bright red like a baboon’s backside. Soon after, the blisters became pus-filled boils.
The sight that day was so horrifying.
Then Snape vanished from public view for a full two weeks before finally returning.
But once he did, he spent an entire month making Neville and Seamus’s lives miserable.
Gryffindor lost over a hundred points during that period, yet even Professor McGonagall couldn’t really object.
Because Snape had genuinely suffered. For a Potions Master to need that long to remove the effects, an ordinary person would probably have been permanently disfigured.
This time, however, there was no student-caused accident. Snape had simply gotten sick.
If the circumstances had been any different, the students in the Great Hall probably would have been setting off magical fireworks in celebration.
The only reason they restrained themselves was because Dumbledore and the rest of the professors were seated at the High Table.
Even so, countless students were already grinning from ear to ear.
An outsider might have thought Hogwarts was celebrating a holiday.
And if there was one group happier than everyone else, it was undoubtedly Gryffindor. Especially the fourth-years.
After repeatedly confirming the news with the well-informed Weasley twins, Harry burst out laughing.
Beside him, Neville covered his face, tears of joy practically streaming down his cheeks. He had never felt so relaxed.
Ron also celebrated by devouring three extra chicken legs.
Then he sneered, "Funny, isn’t it? Snape’s supposed to be a Potions Master. He’s always bragging in class about how amazing he is at brewing potions. So why can’t he fix himself?"
"It’s only a fever. He seriously can’t deal with that? If all else fails, he should go see Madam Pomfrey. The cold medicine she gave me worked great."
"Maybe that’s not such a good idea," Harry said, barely able to stop smiling. "If Madam Pomfrey actually cures him, won’t we end up seeing Snape in Potions class again this week?"
"Good point! Very good point!" Neville nodded vigorously. "Professor Snape should get plenty of rest. He’s worked so hard all these years. The longer he takes off, the better."
The chubby boy’s heartfelt words immediately earned enthusiastic agreement from the surrounding Gryffindors.
At the staff table, Dumbledore sat with a deep frown.
Snape’s fever really was strange.
Just as Ron had mockingly pointed out, for someone like Snape, a simple cold or fever should have been nothing more than a minor inconvenience solved with a single bottle of potion.
Nothing like this had happened in years. So why now, of all times, had Snape suddenly come down with such a serious illness?
Hogwarts was already stretched thin. The student population had exploded, and even with professors from other magical schools helping out, every teacher’s schedule was packed to the brim.
With Snape abruptly out of commission, there wasn’t anyone readily available to take over his classes.
Should he personally teach Potions for a few days?
Dumbledore was a true polymath. He had achieved remarkable accomplishments in both alchemy and potion-making. While he wasn’t quite on the level of masters like Snape or Nicolas Flamel, teaching a few Potions classes would be effortless for him.
The problem was that old age had made him rather fond of taking it easy.
Dumbledore already felt he had more than enough responsibilities on his plate. Adding classroom teaching on top of everything else sounded exhausting.
At his age, he wasn’t entirely convinced his old bones could handle it.
Fortunately, today’s Potions classes were being covered by professors from Castelobruxo and Mahoutokoro, giving him at least a day to think things over.
Then, that very afternoon, a solution presented itself.
After many days away, Tom finally paid a visit to his beloved Headmaster’s office.
Ever since he entered his fourth year, his appearances had become rare compared to before. Even the gargoyle guarding the entrance had complained that Riddle had forgotten his old friend and failed to keep his promise of taking him out.
"Oh?"
After listening to Tom’s request, Dumbledore stared at him in astonishment.
"What? Tom, you want to substitute for Severus?"
The boy smiled and glanced down at himself. "I think I’m pretty qualified, don’t you? I’m the Head of House’s favorite student, after all. Regular classes don’t really do much for me anymore. Since Professor Snape is sick, covering for him for a few days shouldn’t be a problem."
He paused, then grinned. "Besides, I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to be a teacher. If it’s fun, maybe I’ll stay at Hogwarts after graduation."
Please don’t.
The corner of Dumbledore’s mouth twitched.
He was absolutely certain that if Tom stayed at Hogwarts, he wouldn’t be like the other Riddle, whose sights had been fixed solely on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.
No, this one would probably be aiming for the Headmaster’s chair.
It wasn’t that Dumbledore was reluctant to give up power. The issue was that if Tom ever became Headmaster, this poor school would probably be doomed.
Still... Having Tom fill in for Snape really wasn’t a bad idea.
The professors were all occupied, Dumbledore had no desire to take over himself, and Tom’s reason for volunteering wasn’t bad.
Giving the boy something to keep him busy actually sounded like a good idea.
Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully before saying, "Professor Riddle, I should warn you in advance. If you teach these classes, there won’t be any salary."
Tom immediately looked speechless.
"Headmaster, with all due respect, neither you nor the school could actually afford to hire me."
"A fair point," the old wizard said with a smile and a nod. "Since you’re willing to do this, then on behalf of the students, thank you for your selfless contribution."
"Let’s hope Severus recovers and returns to work soon. Until then, I’ll be relying on you."
"No problem." A bright smile spread across Tom’s face. "I guarantee everyone’s potion-making skills will improve by leaps and bounds in a very short time."
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