Chapter 1

In the circular office of the Headmaster on the eighth floor of Hogwarts.

"Mr. Edward Runcorn, I didn't expect you to be so punctual," Dumbledore said with a smile from behind his desk, his long silver beard and hair reaching down to his waist.

"Don't forget the promise you made to me," Edward said softly, "You know the consequences of breaking the contract."

"I know, of course I do," Dumbledore said with a chuckle, "That's why you should trust me. I bet no one understands hell better than I do, not even Voldemort."

"Better make good on your word and help me find the gate to hell," Edward snorted, "What do you need me to do?"

Dumbledore's eyes behind his half-moon glasses blinked twice, and he said a word Edward never expected: "Teach!"

"You bet your life and signed a contract just to find a teacher?" Edward said angrily, feeling insulted. The surroundings grew dark, and magic burst from Edward, enveloping the entire circular office. The Sorting Hat on the chair by the door shrank in fear.

The phoenix perched on the stand let out a low, mournful cry, and Dumbledore barely managed to find the courage to speak.

"Yes, Mr. Runcorn. Of course, I hope you can help me pay more attention to a child."

"Child? Harry Potter?" Edward raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, Harry Potter."

"You should know that it would be much quicker for me to kill Voldemort directly," Edward retracted his magical pressure and sat back down.

"But your power should not be displayed to the world," Dumbledore said shakily, without his usual nonchalance.

"Albus, you are too young. The cost of playing with a demon is something you cannot afford."

"Half-demon, right? You have a gentle mother," Dumbledore couldn't help but say, almost slapping himself instantly, "I mean, historically, you are a kind demon."

"Albus, you should be grateful. I am still willing to talk to you before my patience runs out," Edward said.

What is a kind demon?

The people who have died at his hands number in the thousands, if not tens of thousands.

"Alright," Edward tapped his fingers on the desk and said softly, "Let's get to the point after the pleasantries."

"Of course, sir," Dumbledore stood up and pulled out a thick file from a nearby bookshelf. "These are the final exam papers of the first-year students at Hogwarts. I want you to take a look."

Edward took them with confusion, flipped through a few pages, and his eyes twitched.

"Albus, what are you showing me this 'rubbish' for? To disgust me?"

"Sir, this is exactly what I need your help with," Dumbledore explained hurriedly, "First-year wizards have only received home education before entering school. Many of them can hardly read, let alone perform magic. I beg you to teach these children how to write essays correctly and improve the overall quality of Hogwarts students. I know you are very good at this."

"So, I only need to teach the first-year students?" Edward glanced at Dumbledore.

"Of course, of course," Dumbledore said quickly, "You only need to be responsible for the first-year students. The older students have already mastered these skills."

"Alright, Albus, don't forget our contract," Edward slammed the pile of 'rubbish' shut and said earnestly to Dumbledore.

"If you break the contract, I will make you understand what true pain is, what true despair is. I am not a small fry like Voldemort or Grindelwald."

"Understood, sir," Dumbledore said with a forced smile.

......

On the morning of July 30, 1991, Hagrid confidently came to the Headmaster's office.

"Headmaster, I am ready," Hagrid's voice was like a闷雷, directly waking up Edward who was resting upstairs.

"Very good, Hagrid, but please lower your voice," Dumbledore said hurriedly upon hearing the footsteps upstairs, "There is a distinguished guest resting upstairs."

"Oh? Is there anyone Dumbledore considers a respected guest?" Hagrid said roughly.

At that moment, Edward came down from upstairs.

"Rubeus Hagrid, the gamekeeper," he said softly.

Dumbledore quickly explained, "Mr. Runcorn, Hagrid—"

"It's fine," Edward waved his hand. Hagrid's eyes widened, and he rushed to Edward, tightly grabbing his left hand.

"Are you Runcorn? Edward Runcorn!!!" His voice was incredibly loud, "I have read every one of your books, they are fantastic, making me feel as if I am right there! I am your most loyal fan."

Edward, in the secular world, was a successful publishing writer, and at least one thing was true: he truly loved writing!

Dumbledore's lips twitched; he seemed to have forgotten that Hagrid was a die-hard fan of Runcorn.

"Mr. Runcorn, why are you here?" Hagrid awkwardly rubbed his hand, embarrassed, after being shaken off by Edward.

"Yes, Albus hopes I can help him teach, right?" Edward glanced at Dumbledore and said.

Dumbledore quickly responded, "That's right, Mr. Runcorn will be the professor for our new essay guidance course and also the assistant headmaster."

"Assistant headmaster?" Edward looked at Dumbledore in confusion, this wasn't mentioned yesterday!

Dumbledore quickly gave Edward a meaningful look, urging him to agree.

Considering this was part of the contract, Edward nodded in acknowledgment.

"Essay guidance? Do the children need it?" Hagrid was puzzled but tactfully didn't voice his doubt.

"By the way, what did you say you were prepared for? What are you planning to do?" Edward stared at Hagrid and asked.

"I am ready to pick up Harry Potter," Hagrid said, "The last time I saw him, he was only this big!" He gestured with his hands, forming a size roughly the size of a plate. Dumbledore was sure it was not a normal human size.

"Let me go with you," Edward said.

Hagrid turned to Dumbledore and asked, "Is it really okay?"

"Go ahead, go ahead," Dumbledore said somewhat despondently.