《HP: Too Late, System!》Chapter 24: Professor Holmes’s First Patrol

By the time Wednesday rolled around, the atmosphere at Hogwarts had grown decidedly strange.

The tension that usually plagued fifth- and seventh-years now seemed to hang over the entire school. Under the relentless pressure of Douglas Holmes's unorthodox curriculum, even the ever-proud Ravenclaws felt their title as the "academic house" was under siege from both Gryffindor and Slytherin.

It was most obvious at mealtimes. Gryffindor and Slytherin students could be found clutching their textbooks, loudly reciting passages in the Great Hall. After every line, they'd shoot each other dark, competitive glares—almost as if reading about Boggarts, Inferi, and vampires would actually conjure those creatures to attack the opposing house.

Ravenclaw students, sandwiched between the two warring tables, quietly mumbled their own lessons, occasionally whispering to check how far their neighbor had gotten. When a Gryffindor or Slytherin stumbled over a line, a helpful Ravenclaw would gently correct them—leaving both sides momentarily awkward before they returned to their furious recitation, eyes blazing.

Meanwhile, Hufflepuffs sipped their pumpkin juice, watched the spectacle, and occasionally glanced at their textbooks—trying to multitask, but ultimately finishing their meal without remembering a single thing.

Luckily, this competitive chaos was mostly confined to the lower years. Fourth- and fifth-years who hadn't yet experienced Douglas's lessons were busy memorizing test answers that had leaked from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Those who had already taken the exam watched in secret amusement as their peers desperately crammed—never letting on that Douglas gave every year and every house a unique set of questions. The moment those confident students sat down to take the test, they'd realize none of their memorized answers matched.

In the face of this new, hyper-competitive study culture, the Heads of House chose not to interfere. After all, academic rivalry was far preferable to dueling in the corridors. Some even wondered if their own subjects might benefit from similar methods—after all, a solid foundation of memorized knowledge was invaluable.

Douglas hadn't been idle, either. He'd called the seventh-years, who weren't scheduled for Defence Against the Dark Arts until Friday, in for extra sessions. Under his direction, they magically remodeled several empty classrooms—though all details were kept strictly secret from anyone below seventh year. Professor McGonagall stopped by once to inspect; after confirming everything was within safe limits, she left him to his own devices.

That Wednesday evening, after classes, Douglas made his way to Argus Filch's office behind the entrance hall's marble staircase, carrying a carefully prepared gift.

The moment he stepped inside, he was hit by the familiar scent of damp and decay. Argus Filch—the castle caretaker—was infamous for his foul temper and general unpleasantness, but no one could deny his dedication to Hogwarts. His beloved cat, Mrs. Norris, was his constant companion and greatest comfort.

As a fellow cat enthusiast, Douglas had been the only student during his own school days to receive anything resembling leniency from Filch. But that hadn't happened by accident. As someone well-versed in the ways of the world, Douglas understood the value of befriending the castle's "ground staff." While other students went out of their way to avoid Mrs. Norris, he'd sought her out—using his Muggle cat-care skills and a few treats from the Hogwarts kitchens. Over time, he'd become the only student who actually enjoyed "preferential treatment" during detention with Filch. Whenever he got lost in the castle, a single bit of dried fish was enough to earn Mrs. Norris's friendly assistance.

Filch let Douglas in with a grunt, saying nothing. Unbothered, Douglas opened his gift: a jar of homemade catnip paste. He held it out to Mrs. Norris, who was nestled in Filch's arms.

"Well, Mrs. Norris, it's been years. Do you still remember me?"

Mrs. Norris sniffed, then immediately began licking the treat with obvious pleasure.

Filch couldn't help but soften his expression—though on his face, a smile always looked a bit sinister. "I thought the illustrious Mr. Holmes had forgotten about this humble caretaker."

Douglas scooped Mrs. Norris into his own arms, apologizing with a grin. "How could I forget? I've just been busy these last couple of days since returning to Hogwarts. I actually made these gifts back in the Muggle world, just for you two."

Hearing this, Filch's smile deepened, though it remained as unsettling as ever. "Professor McGonagall's already given me instructions. Since tonight is your first patrol, I'm to show you the routes—and point out a few of the troublemakers to watch for."

It took two hours for Douglas to follow Filch through the castle, listening to his endless commentary. Filch even revealed several secret passages, before finally heading off with Mrs. Norris to patrol his own route.

Watching Filch's retreating back, Douglas couldn't help but smile. He already knew everything Filch had told him. After all, as a time-traveling insider, how could he not covet the legendary Marauder's Map? He'd "borrowed" it from Filch's office back in his second year, only returning it quietly upon graduation. The Marauder's Map was an extraordinary magical artifact. It wasn't until his sixth year that he finally unraveled some of its secrets—and managed to erase his own name from the map, a feat that had taken considerable skill.

—

It was after ten o'clock that night when George Weasley and Fred Weasley, having slipped past the studious Percy, carried the hopes of all Gryffindor fourth-years as they crept through the portrait hole. They snuck up to a remote corner on the eighth floor, far from the Headmaster's office.

George pulled a piece of parchment from his robes, sighing in relief. "I nearly pulled out the map in front of everyone just now."

Fred quietly tapped his wand and muttered, "Lumos." He grumbled, "It's all Professor Holmes's fault—he almost ruined our entire nighttime adventure!"

George pointed his wand at the parchment and declared, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!"

The moment the words left his lips, inky lines began to snake across the blank parchment, revealing a detailed map of Hogwarts. Tiny names appeared, moving through the castle's corridors.

Fred and George leaned in, scrutinizing every dot.

"Dumbledore's in the Headmaster's office!"

"Mrs. Norris is on the third floor, Filch is on the first!"

"Peeves is in the abandoned girls' bathroom on the second floor… Merlin's beard, Peeves is braver than we are—we wouldn't dare set foot in a girls' loo!"

"If Mum found out, she'd kill us."

~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~

Explore More Amazing Fanfiction on My Patreon!

Unlock 30+ Advance Chapters and Enjoy Exclusive Stories Early!

��� patreon.com/GoldenLong