Chapter 28

1st of September 1991
Hogwarts

Hermione's hand shot up instinctively, her face alight with excitement. "Karl Marx! Oh my gosh, the father of class struggle and historical materialism! This is incredible! Did you know he wrote 'Das Kapital'? Oh, this is going to revolutionize our understanding of magical history! Literally!"

There was a moment of polite applause, though it was clear most of the students had no idea who Karl Marx was. They were simply hopeful that anyone, even a ghost from another era, would be an improvement over Binns. Marx nodded, his ghostly form flickering slightly. "Thank you, Headmaster. I look forward to engaging with the young minds of this bourgeois school and exploring the rich history of magic through a materialist perspective."

More polite applause followed, along with a few confused looks. A fifth-year leaned over to his neighbor and whispered, "What's a materialist perspective?" His friend shrugged, equally baffled.

Dumbledore smiled, clearly enjoying the confusion. "And now," he said, his tone turning mischievous, "I must also sadly announce that Argus Filch, our beloved caretaker, has decided to change career paths."

Before he could finish, the hall erupted once more, this time even louder than when they learnt Binns had been unfortunately and mistakenly exorcised. Students jumped up and down, high-fiving each other and shouting with joy. The noise was deafening, and Dumbledore had to raise his hands for silence multiple times before he could continue. The twins, strangely, stayed silent. Very, very silent. Maybe it had to do with the small red hair looking at them from the Professor table.

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore said. "Mr. Filch has decided to pursue a career as a professional wrestler. So, if any of you have siblings who want to follow his matches, do inform them. He's now known as 'The Janitorial Juggernaut.'"

The celebration over Filch's exit made the earlier jubilation over Binns' departure seem like a mere warm-up. Students were practically dancing on the tables, and even some of the faculty couldn't hide their smiles. Some of the older students even started an impromptu conga line, snaking between the tables.

Dumbledore allowed the celebration to continue for a moment before raising his hands for silence once more. The lively chatter and jubilant cheers gradually died down as the students turned their attention back to the headmaster, curiosity and anticipation written on their faces.

"Now, I have a few more announcements to make," Dumbledore began, his tone taking on a more serious and compassionate note. "It is of utmost importance that we prioritize mental health, especially for eleven-year-old children who are capable of bending reality and often face extraordinary challenges, be it Dark Lords or mischievous pixies."

As he spoke, the hall grew silent, the gravity of his words settling over the students like a gentle, calming wave. They exchanged thoughtful glances, some nodding in agreement while others looked around, puzzled. Dumbledore continued, his voice resonating with warmth and wisdom. "We must remember that while magic is a wondrous gift, it also comes with great responsibility and challenges. It is essential that we take care of our minds as well as our magical abilities."

Suddenly, a new ghost appeared, floating gracefully into view. He was a stern-looking specter with a bushy mustache and small round glasses perched on his nose. His ethereal form wore a dark, formal suit, giving him an air of intellectual authority and old-world sophistication. Dumbledore gestured toward the ghost with a welcoming smile. "Please welcome our new school psychologist."

The students clapped politely, though many still seemed puzzled. Dumbledore continued, "As the good sir is currently under scrutiny for... unscientificity. I talked to the ghost of a guy named Karl Popper who wants to throttle him personally," he paused, letting the murmurs of confusion spread through the hall. Crabbe leaned over to Goyle, whispering, "What's that?" Goyle simply shrugged, equally baffled.
The ghost, looking slightly exasperated, adjusted his glasses and sighed. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with amusement as he introduced him. "He prefers to remain anonymous for now, so you may call him Figmund Sreud."

Sreud's ghostly hand met his forehead in a classic facepalm. He quickly composed himself, straightening his suit and putting his glasses back on, his expression a mix of sternness and resignation.

"Students," Dumbledore encouraged, his voice warm and inviting, "if you ever feel the need to talk or seek guidance, please do not hesitate to visit Figmund Sreud. He will also act as a mediator, and teachers can refer students to him for mandatory sessions if needed."

The students exchanged glances, some nodding thoughtfully while others still looked confused. Madam Pomfrey clapped the loudest, her face beaming with approval. It was clear she was particularly pleased with this new addition to the staff.

"Furthermore," Dumbledore continued, his voice regaining its earlier cheerfulness, "I have a few more exciting changes to share with you all."

The students leaned forward in anticipation, their excitement rekindled. Again ? More new changes?

"You see, I've been feeling rather adventurous lately," Dumbledore began, stroking his beard - which had grown a lot longer since the beginning of the feast probably precisely because he wanted to do this gesture. "And I thought, why stop at a new school psychologist? Why not refresh our house ghosts as well? It's time ghosts were fucking useful for once!"

A wave of murmurs and whispers rippled through the students. Hermione, already on the edge of her seat, grew visibly more excited.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, without further ado, let me introduce our new house ghosts. Brace yourselves, this is going to be quite the spectacle."

With an extravagant wave of his hand, Dumbledore transformed in a dramatic puff of multicolored smoke into a disco announcer, complete with a glittering suit, oversized sunglasses, and a giant, flashing neon sign that read "House Ghost Extravaganza!" The enchanted ceiling erupted into a swirling kaleidoscope of colors as a disco ball descended, casting wild, spinning lights around the hall. Students gaped, completely lost at their venerable headmaster's bizarre behavior. Even Andromeda Black, usually composed, was taken aback.

"Ladies and gentlemen, witches and wizards, let's give it up for our brand-new, fabulously famous, and fantastically phantasmal house ghosts!" Dumbledore's voice boomed with the energy of a carnival barker, his exaggerated gestures making the students laugh and cheer, though their eyes were wide with confusion. The area-effect cheering fact may have played a role in that.

"First up, for the brilliant minds of Ravenclaw, we have the man who turned words into wizardry, the philosopher with a penchant for puzzles, the one, the only, Ludwig Wittgenstein!"

A ghostly figure materialized above the Ravenclaw table. Ludwig Wittgenstein had an unsettling presence, his ghostly form dressed in an eccentric patchwork of robes. His wild, unkempt hair stuck out in all directions, and his piercing eyes seemed to bore into the very souls of the students. He clutched a bookwith fingers that twitched incessantly, his gaze darting around the room as if he were seeing a different reality altogether.

"Wittgenstein here is the guy who thought words were like bricks and built imaginary houses with them," Dumbledore said, waving his hands as if constructing an invisible structure. "He's probably going to bore you to death with his theories about language and reality. Or maybe invent twelve new different ways to do magic. Give it up for Ludwig!"

The Ravenclaw table erupted in applause, though most students looked nervously at the ghost's intense gaze. Hermione's eyes widened with excitement.

"Ludwig Wittgenstein! The father of analytical philosophy! His work on the philosophy of language is groundbreaking!" she gushed, her enthusiasm growing with each word. She was so happy to have him as his House Ghost ! Truly, Hogwarts was better than even her wildest dreams.

"Next," Dumbledore continued with a dramatic spin, "for the cunning and ambitious Slytherins, we have the master of political strategy and sly schemes, the original Machiavellian himself, Niccolò Machiavelli!"

A tall, imposing ghost appeared, dressed in elegant Renaissance attire. Machiavelli's sharp eyes and calculating smile sent a shiver down the spines of the students.

"Machiavelli here wrote a book called 'The Prince,' which is basically a manual on how to be a sneaky bastard and get away with it, so perfect for Slytherin" Dumbledore said with a wink. "He's your go-to guy for backstabbing tips and manipulating your way to the top. Probably the book on the nightstand of Lucius Malfoy. Let's hear it for Niccolò!"

The Slytherin table clapped politely, though some exchanged wary glances. What the fuck was going on ? They would have so much to write home about — and it was sure Lucius Malfoy and the Board of Governor would have something to say about that.

"And now, for the brave and bold Gryffindors," Dumbledore announced, his voice reaching a crescendo, "we have the unconventional and fearless philosopher, the man who told societal norms to shove it - sometimes literally, the one and only, Diogenes of Sinope!"

A ghost with wild hair and a scruffy beard appeared, wearing tattered robes. Diogenes held a lantern, his expression defiant and unorthodox. He looked around the hall with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with a rebellious gleam.

Hermione squealed, her excitement almost uncontainable. "Diogenes! The original cynic! He rejected societal norms and lived in a barrel!"

Dumbledore interrupted, "Actually, barrels weren't invented yet, Hermione Granger. He lived in an amphora. But you get the point! One point for Ravenclaw"

Du…Dumbledore knew her name ? Hermione's eyes rolled back as she fainted, the culmination of excitement proving too much for her.

"And finally," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling, "for the hardworking and loyal Hufflepuffs, we have the remarkable intellectual and writer Lou Andréa Salomé!"

At the main table, Sigmund Freud groaned as a graceful ghost materialized, her form ethereal and elegant. Lou Andréa Salomé wore a flowing dress, her eyes bright with intelligence and warmth.

"Lou here hung out with Nietzsche, Freud, and Rilke, and probably wrote some steamy letters to them too. But she was more badass than any of them."

With another puff of smoke, Dumbledore transformed back into the more familiar form of their venerable Headmaster, albeit notably younger and fitter, his typical flamboyant yet intricate robes still managing to surprise.

"Lastly, before we eat—yes, I know you're all eager to dig in—I have two more - and last - exciting announcements," he began. "First," he continued, his tone shifting to one of importance, "as our professors are being stretched more and more thin, it seemed imperative to me that we introduce a role to provide additional support to both the students and the faculty. So, it is my great pleasure to announce our new Principal Education Counselor, Madam Weasley!"

There was a burst of scattered cheers and applause. Molly Weasley stood up, her cheeks slightly flushed with a mixture of pride and nervousness. Dumbledore detailed her role with enthusiasm. "Madam Weasley will be helping with discipline, providing guidance and orientation, and even sex-ed—"

Molly's eyes widened in shock, her face turning an even deeper shade of red. It seemed the Headmaster has forgotten to tell her about that.

"And lastly," Dumbledore continued, his tone becoming more serious and thoughtful, "I want to address the tradition of houses here at Hogwarts. Now, while houses are a deeply rooted tradition, they can sometimes be limiting. They often predetermine students' futures, restrict their interactions, and foster unnecessary rivalries. Unfortunately, I can't abolish the houses—yet—because of certain legal constraints. However, I can make some changes."

He snapped his fingers, and the entire hall gasped as every student's chair lifted into the air. Students clung to their seats, some looking thrilled by the unexpected ride, while others seemed terrified. The chairs shuffled around the hall, mixing students from different houses, years, and social groups. Gryffindors found themselves sitting next to Slytherins, Hufflepuffs beside Ravenclaws, creating a blend of colors and crests never seen before.

Dumbledore's smile broadened as the chairs settled back down, the students now intermingled in a way they had never been before. "And now," he said with a grin, "let's dive in and enjoy this feast!"

The tables suddenly groaned under the weight of a magnificent array of food that appeared out of nowhere, from roasted meats to fresh vegetables, exotic fruits, and an array of desserts that seemed to sparkle under the enchanted lights. The hall erupted into excited chatter and laughter as everyone began to eat, the earlier shock giving way to curiosity and delight at the unexpected changes.

Everybody was happy - everybody except Draco Malfoy, who was, by an incredible lack of luck, stuck between the two Weasley twins.

Hi, thanks for reading !
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