HP: Professor From Azkaban

People don't worry about scarcity but about inequality.

The meaning was simple; when everyone is losing in a game and all players have a 0/8 record, the team atmosphere remains harmonious. However, when some players perform worse than others, arguments naturally arise.

Late in the morning, in the Hufflepuff common room, fifth-year student Dennis returned after a busy morning of classes. As he walked in, he saw two familiar faces playing Gobstones.

"Dennis, care for a game of Gobstones?" Two seventh-year seniors enthusiastically invited him to join.

"Forget it. I'm going crazy. Where would I find the time to play Gobstones? I just came from a History of Magic class, and after an entire lesson, I realized I didn't understand a single thing. And Professor Binns assigned an essay!"

Professor Binns was the only ghost professor at Hogwarts who could endure a relentless workload. Despite occasionally forgetting things, his classes rarely received complaints. As long as students didn't act out too much in class, the elderly Professor would ignore them. For some students, the best thing about him was when he forgot to assign homework.

"Fifth year, huh? Just hang in there. Not many people at Hogwarts pursue further studies in History of Magic. You can drop it later since there aren't many careers that require a History of Magic certificate. But if Professor Binns remembered to assign homework, maybe the pass rate for History of Magic will improve this year."

"Hopefully. By the way, how was this morning's Defense Against—oh, sorry, the Wizard Self-Defense Magic class? How many of you failed?" Dennis feigned a casual tone as he asked.

After being tortured by History of Magic all morning, he desperately needed to absorb some schadenfreude to cheer himself up. Come on, Jacob, Peter, share your misery and make everyone else happy.

"Failed? How many?"

The two seventh-years playing Gobstones exchanged glances, suddenly recalling the morning discussions among students about how many seventh-years might fail their exams like the fifth-years.

Soon, smiles spread across their faces; This is more entertaining than Gobstones.

"Exams? There weren't any exams at all. Not only that, but we had an incredibly engaging lesson. We didn't even open our textbooks. Honestly, it was the best Defense class I've ever had at Hogwarts!"

One of the seventh-years boldly made this statement, one that even William would have found embarrassing to hear; Especially since they hadn't even drawn their wands during the lesson, let alone practiced any advanced magic.

But compared to the fifth-years' first lesson, any class without an exam was paradise.

Happiness comes from comparison, especially when the fifth-years were still complaining about their newly assigned essay. Taking advantage of that, the other seventh-year delivered another blow. "Yes, not only was the class excellent, but there was no homework. No essays, no magical practice."

"You must be joking!"

"Not at all. I have nothing to gain by lying to you. You can ask anyone else. From what I've heard, of the three grades Professor William teaches, only your year had exams in the first class. Even the sixth-years had a fun lesson, though they did get an essay assignment."

"What? Dennis, where are you going?"

"To my dorm! I need to get that damn essay done before lunch!"

Without looking back, Dennis left his two seventh-year friends behind. The other fifth-years who had been eavesdropping on the conversation also dispersed, thoroughly demotivated, and mentally cursing the dreaded O.W.L.s.

Damn those exams! If they weren't coming, our classes wouldn't have turned out like this!!!

***

"William, you look quite happy?"

"A Little… With this week's work finished, I just need to prepare for my lessons, and then it's the weekend."

"You should take a look at Singed over there. He's done with his classes by Tuesday and has nothing else to do for the rest of the week..."

Adams motioned with his chin toward the Alchemy professor nearby, indicating that William had yet to grasp just how good some had it.

"You need to learn to adapt, Adams. People are different, and there's no point in nitpicking. Learn to shift your perspective, and you'll find things suddenly seem brighter." William answered with a straight face.

"You're being a bit vague. Shift perspective?"

"Exactly, Adams. For instance, when I think about how you'll have to wake up early on Friday to work in the greenhouse, I don't feel jealous anymore."

Adams responded with an extremely indecent gesture.

"The students are watching. I doubt you'd want to explain yourself to Professor McGonagall." The Alchemy professor delivered a well-timed jab. Outside the pub, his wit was surprisingly sharp.

While the three chatted idly, Professor Snape stormed into the hall, his face ashen.

"Why does Professor Snape look like that again; Did another cauldron explode in Potions class?"

"Isn't that normal? How many beginners don't have their cauldrons blow up?" William countered using his basic knowledge of survival skills in his trade. New students weren't the only ones who had cauldron mishaps; even professional potion-makers occasionally faced disasters when experimenting with new recipes. Unless someone planned to rest on their laurels forever, blowing up a few cauldrons was entirely normal.

"An exploding cauldron wouldn't cause that level of anger. Maybe he got stuck with Professor Lockhart again…. Ah sorry, Adams."

Singed paused mid-sentence, realizing his misstep. It hadn't even been a week, but most of the staff in the castle already knew just how exasperating Lockhart could be. Being near him made even the most normal wizard feel suffocated.

But Adams admired Lockhart. The Herbology professor longed for the kind of adventurous life he could never have and lived vicariously through those stories.

"It's fine. No wizard is perfect. If he preferred to stay low-profile, I probably wouldn't have gotten to enjoy such exciting tales of adventure in my lifetime. But back to the point; Why does Professor Snape look so furious today?"

"It's definitely not because of me. As everyone knows, Professor Snape doesn't like any Defense Against the Dark Arts professors, myself included." William used a bit of self-deprecation to steer the topic elsewhere. When it came to idols, unless there was a fundamental conflict, it was best not to argue.

"That makes sense. Professor Snape even deliberately sits on the opposite side of the table during meals. There's no way it's you… Wait, what's going on with Gryffindor today?"

"What do you mean?"

Following Adams' gaze, William saw a small group of Gryffindor students at their table. They stood out awkwardly in formal attire, making their section of the table look utterly bizarre.

"These kids; What are they doing dressed so formally? It's not a holiday, nor is it the start of term." Adams commented absentmindedly, but William suddenly felt a sense of foreboding.

Those faces... they look familiar.

Especially when Professor Snape's face darkened even more as his gaze swept over the students, William realized something was amiss.