The red-haired wizard tapped the frame of his painting in boredom, occasionally peeking at what the other portraits were doing.
This tower was called the Astronomy Tower by students because they observed celestial bodies at its top and attended astronomy classes there every week. Most of the paintings in the hallway were related to astronomy as well. They were mostly quiet and silent, and no one wanted to chat with him.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps and saw a familiar student walking by, so he hurried to catch up.
"Hey, are you feeling better from your cold? It was Murray who gave you medicine, right? That old guy's stimulant is really something—"
He thought the student would walk away without turning, as he had before, but unexpectedly, the student suddenly stopped and looked at him thoughtfully.
"Are you Griffiths?" the student, Wade, asked.
"That's right!" The red-haired wizard nodded happily. "Murray must have told you, huh? He's the only one who occasionally chats with me these days."
"Aren't there a lot of other portraits here?" Wade gestured around.
"Ugh, don't even mention it." Griffiths said gloomily, "Do you see that old guy in the portrait diagonally opposite?"
Wade looked over. Griffiths was referring to an old wizard whose robe and hat were both decorated with stars. He stood in front of a large telescope, focused intently on the starry sky.
Griffiths explained, "He's been holding that telescope for centuries, observing the same unchanging stars in the painting, and just finds me annoying.
Then there's Shalom, the one with glasses. She's always scribbling away on parchment, never taking a break.
In fact, the results of her calculations were already proven by Muggle scientists over a hundred years ago, but she still keeps calculating."
Wade saw a slender witch hunched over a desk, deep in her calculations. Even though she heard Griffith's words, she didn't stop.
"And those kids over there, stargazing—you see them? They're practically a bunch of Cornish Pixies." Griffiths grumbled, "When they're not stargazing or sleeping, they're always causing trouble—knocking over the old man's telescope, tearing up Shalom's parchment, or pulling my hair and spilling ink on my robes! I've had enough!"
Griffiths sighed, feeling lonely and helpless. Even though Wade was in a bad mood, he couldn't help but laugh, and the gloom, heaviness, and doubt in his heart seemed to lift.
He asked, "How long have you been hanging here, and you still haven't gotten used to it?"
"Ugh, you don't know. I used to hang in the entrance hall on the first floor, surrounded by paintings.
I could watch young witches and wizards coming and going every day, and sometimes I even taught them a few pranks. It was so much fun," Griffiths said regretfully.
"But later, when they needed space to hang Fosco's portrait, they moved me to the Astronomy Tower. I thought meeting new friends here wouldn't be too bad. I never expected it to be so dull!"
"Can't portraits move around freely?" Wade asked.
"They can, but it's exhausting. Most of the time, I still have to stay in my own portrait," Griffiths said hopefully. "Can you move my portrait back to the entrance hall? Or at least to a busier place! I'll repay you!"
Wade didn't agree immediately. Instead, he said, "I'll have to ask the professors first. As long as they don't object, I'll help you move it."
Griffiths thought for a moment and asked, "—What if they say no?"
"Then I'll secretly help you move to another spot, just not the entrance hall—that's too obvious," Wade replied.
"Great!" Griffiths was so excited he nearly jumped out of his frame. He urged, "Go ask them quickly! The sooner, the better!"
"…Alright."
Wade smiled and turned to leave.
Originally, he had intended to ask Griffiths whether Professor Murray had really left his office that morning, and whether Quirrell often visited this area. But after chatting for a while, he gave up on the idea.
The red-haired wizard was far too talkative to keep a secret; and besides, he had clearly known Professor Murray for a long time. Why would Griffiths keep a secret for Wade?
Better to move the portrait first... then figure things out later.
...
Terrence Murray finally finished teaching the seventh-year students and stormed out in a fury while clutching his lesson plans, leaving behind a few quail-like students exchanging glances in a dejected state, as if they'd just weathered a storm.
What did he mean by, "First-years are better than you"? Do first-years even know what alchemy is? Do they know how to write "0" in runes?
They were indignant, but under Professor Murray's scolding, not one dared to talk back. All they could do was lower their heads and mumble, "Yes, yes, you're right."
This only made Professor Murray angrier.
Ever since meeting Wade, the more he looked at the carefully selected students in front of him, the less he liked them. When he reviewed their last alchemy projects, he grew even more dissatisfied.
In the end, he assigned five times the usual amount of homework, and even then felt like they were getting off too easy.
Professor Murray stormed back to his office, and from a distance, he heard an enthusiastic voice: "How did today's class go, Professor Murray? The young witches and wizards must have learned a lot, right?"
It's hard to stay cold in the face of such an enthusiastic attitude. Unconsciously, Professor Murray smiled. "Oh, Griffiths!"
"Of course, who else would it be?" Griffiths said.
Professor Murray couldn't help but stop in the hallway and vent about his students:
"—It's one thing to lack intelligence, but they don't even work hard! Why bother learning alchemy? They might as well become decorations at the Ministry of Magic!"
"So, you've taken a liking to that young wizard?" Griffiths leaned against the frame and smiled knowingly.
Professor Murray was silent for a moment, then suddenly sighed.
"Griffith, truly gifted wizards often stand out from a young age. As soon as they enter school, they shine and attract everyone's attention.
But those with talent always yearn to study the most obscure and dangerous forms of magic, to gain more power, and pursue greater ambitions. Yet very few are willing to settle down and study alchemy."
"But in my opinion, what's the point of mastering the world's most dangerous dark magic?
Look at those who were once famous! Some burned out as quickly as shooting stars, some became infamous Dark Lords, and others, even with great renown, ended up with nothing!
The more powerful they became, the more death and destruction they brought to the world!"
"Alchemy, on the other hand, is what can truly bring change to the wizarding world, what can bring happiness to people!
Only by constantly learning from Muggles, innovating techniques, and improving alchemical products can we lead the wizarding world toward better development... and avoid being destroyed by Muggles."
"But over the years... though I've made some progress, introducing some Muggle inventions into the magical world, I still feel like an infant learning to walk.
The harder I chase after the giants ahead of me, the more I realize the gap between us is impossibly vast… and that gap grows larger every moment."
"And my students? All they think about is inventing some popular magical item to make a fortune. That's all they care about—"
"But that child is different, isn't he?" Griffiths suddenly asked.
"Yes—" Professor Murray smiled. "Even though he's only eleven."
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