Sean glanced at Professor Lupin, then quietly took the seat beside Professor Snape.
Lupin cast a thoughtful look back at the Potions professor, only then realizing that Snape was still glaring at him.
"As for our third new teacher,"
Dumbledore continued after the applause died down,
"I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn retired at the end of last term, in order to enjoy more time with what remains of his limbs.
However, I am delighted to announce that the one taking over his post is none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to accept this teaching position in addition to his duties as Keeper of the Keys and Grounds."
At the long tables, Justin, Hermione, and the others looked at each other in shock.
Then they joined in the applause with everyone else, though the clapping at the Gryffindor table was especially enthusiastic.
Sean glanced to his left and saw Hagrid's face turn scarlet, his eyes lowered to his enormous hands, his broad grin hidden behind that wild tangle of black beard.
"We should've known!"
Ron was pounding the table as he shouted.
"Who else would've made us buy a book that bites?"
Sean and the others were among the last to stop clapping. By then, Professor Dumbledore was already speaking again, and they saw Hagrid wiping his eyes with the tablecloth.
"Now then, there is just one last important matter."
Dumbledore said it, and all the young wizards immediately leaned forward, waiting for his final announcement.
What could it be?
Hogwarts had taken on three new members of staff: Professor Lupin—though not many people knew him; Hagrid, the gamekeeper—whom everyone knew well enough, since he was the one who decorated the Christmas trees every year...
And as for Mr. Green—Merlin, was there really anyone who didn't know him?
Even among the first years?
More importantly, dear Mr. Green was the Potions assistant.
If kind, friendly Mr. Green was going to be at Professor Snape's side, then maybe Potions lessons wouldn't be nearly so terrifying anymore, right?
"So, Sean's moved his classroom out of his books and into the dungeon?"
Ron asked Harry, sounding more than a little excited.
"At least when we ask difficult questions, we won't get, 'What exactly could penetrate that thick wooden skull of yours?'"
Harry's imitation of Snape was uncannily accurate.
"That really is—"
Ron burst out laughing.
"The last matter is also about our dear Mr. Green.
Rubeus Hagrid told us he needed an assistant to help him care for the creatures of the Forbidden Forest and prepare his lessons.
In his hour of distress, our dear Mr. Green extended a helping hand.
So naturally, our final announcement is this: let us welcome Mr. Green as our Care of Magical Creatures assistant and Keeper of the Forbidden Forest—"
Dumbledore said, blinking cheerfully.
"That's brilliant—"
Fred and George shouted excitedly from the Gryffindor table.
The wizards all broke into thrilled applause.
Every now and then, a first-year would ask in a whisper, and some older student would eagerly explain:
"Mr. Green can't handle being an assistant for Care of Magical Creatures?
Then you definitely haven't finished all the Green Notebooks.
You do know that Green Notebook: A History of Magical Creatures was co-edited by none other than Newt Scamander himself, right?
He called Mr. Green the most talented wizard he'd seen in the last fifty years. And I heard Mr. Green even studied under Newt Scamander for a while—they still keep in touch by letter."
As the Gryffindor student was saying this, quiet snickering sounded nearby.
"The great Green's Forbidden Forest—"
Fred whispered to George.
"The Forbidden Forest with unrestricted access—"
George waggled his eyebrows.
"Well then—let the feast begin!"
Headmaster Dumbledore spread his arms.
At once, the golden plates and goblets before the students filled themselves with food and drink.
This was Sean's first time dining at the staff table. He was still too short, so only half his head showed above the tabletop.
He heard Professor Snape give a soft snort, and the chair silently grew taller.
That left Lupin, who had just taken out his wand, staring in disbelief.
It was just as unbelievable as the fact that the young wizard had become the Potions assistant—Snape actually making that choice seemed impossible.
Sean had no idea what Lupin was speculating about. He was simply noticing how wide the view was from the staff table. From here, he could see every student in the Hall.
He spotted Harry and the others, ravenous, helping themselves to everything within reach and eating with great enthusiasm.
The Great Hall rang with laughter and the clatter of knives and forks.
Harry, Justin, and the others, though, were clearly hurrying through their food so they could go speak to Hagrid and Sean.
They knew how much becoming a teacher meant to Hagrid.
Hagrid wasn't fully qualified as a wizard. He'd been expelled from Hogwarts in his third year over a crime he'd never committed.
Last term, it had been Sean who led them in clearing Hagrid's name.
As for Sean, well, Sean was always like this—quietly pulling off things that left them completely stunned.
At last, the final few pumpkin pies vanished from the great golden platters, and Dumbledore announced that everyone could go to bed. Only then did they get their chance.
"Congratulations, Hagrid!"
They hurried over to the staff table, and Hermione practically shrieked it out.
"It's all thanks to you lot,"
Hagrid said, wiping his shiny cheeks with a napkin and looking up at them.
"I still can't believe it... Dumbledore's a truly remarkable man... Professor Kettleburn said he'd had enough, and Dumbledore came straight to me... this is exactly what I've always wanted..."
He was so overwhelmed he buried his face in the napkin.
"Sean..."
Then they turned to look at Sean. His chair was so high it looked as though he'd been propped up on it.
They watched him tap the chair lightly, and it sank lower as if by magic.
"That's..."
Harry and the others rubbed their eyes.
"Just a simple bit of Transfiguration,"
Sean said, stepping down from the chair.
A common Ravenclaw trick: wandless Transfiguration.
It was also a simple, convenient form of ancient magic, mainly used to transfigure one inanimate object into another.
A beginner-level branch of Transfiguration...
And yet using it still gave him ten points of Master-level Transfiguration proficiency.
The panel always seemed to be nudging him toward deeper and deeper realms of magic.
"That is not simple,"
Ron said, pulling his jaw back up. He'd forgotten to even ask when Sean had decided to take a job at Hogwarts.
The next morning, the second day of term, Sean was getting ready for his first Potions class.
But not as a student.
Potions lessons were held in one of the dungeon classrooms.
It was colder down there than in the upper parts of the castle, and the glass jars lining the walls—full of preserved animal specimens—were enough to make anyone shiver.
The first years arriving there had already started hunching their shoulders.
Professor Snape was standing at the front long before class began. Thin morning light, tangled with wisps of mist, lit up his face.
His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but without a trace of Hagrid's warmth.
They were cold and empty, like two dark tunnels.
That only made the newly arrived Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs even more uneasy.
Not until they saw the Ravenclaw upperclassman beside the desk—who was so short his head still didn't clear the tabletop—did they relax a little.
"I heard the Potions professor is the scariest teacher in Hogwarts,"
one Ravenclaw whispered to a friend in an almost inaudible voice.
"May Mr. Green protect us,"
the timid little Ravenclaw girl said, looking toward Sean.
Sean himself looked a little awkward. Thinking about what he was about to do, he let out a faint sigh.
"Mr. Green sighed!"
the timid student gasped.
Her friend looked up in horror, wearing the exact expression of someone who had just realized they were doomed.
"Speak..."
Professor Snape spent a few seconds examining the trembling first years, then said to Sean.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making."
The Ravenclaws heard their older schoolmate begin to speak.
His voice was barely louder than a whisper, yet every word came through clearly.
There was a trace of calmness in his tone, and something like faint resignation, but the young students didn't take it that way at all.
They were completely intimidated.
"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic.
I... Professor Snape does not expect you to truly appreciate the beauty of a softly simmering cauldron, sending out curling white steam and delicate fragrance.
You will never truly understand the wondrous power of liquids that slip into human veins and bewitch the senses, clouding the mind...
Professor Snape... and I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death—but only if you are not the usual pack of dunderheads we so often encounter."
When Sean finished the short opening speech, the class sat in complete silence.
Even he hadn't expected that the very first thing he would inherit from Professor Snape would be the Potions opening speech.
It made him wonder—had Snape inherited it from someone else too?
Did all Potions Masters talk like that?
From that moment on, Potions became the most agonizing subject for the first years.
If not for the Ravenclaw upperclassman moving around the room and quietly giving pointers, they were certain they might not have survived the lesson at all.
Even after leaving the dungeon, Sean could still hear the students sighing miserably nearby.
"Is Professor Snape the scariest teacher you've ever seen?"
one young wizard asked a friend.
The friend nodded furiously, like a chick pecking grain.
"Is Mr. Green the gentlest wizard you've ever seen?"
the same young wizard asked in a whisper.
"Of course—"
Only then did the gloomy friend's eyes light up.
Unfortunately for them, Professor Snape happened to be passing by at that exact moment.
Sean saw their faces go deathly white.
But Snape didn't seem to care. He merely gave a cold snort and strode away.
When Sean entered the Great Hall for lunch, the first thing he saw was Harry glaring at Draco Malfoy.
Malfoy seemed to be telling a particularly hilarious story to a large group of Slytherins.
Whenever Harry passed by, Malfoy would dramatically fake a sudden fainting spell, setting everyone off into another fit of laughter.
"Ignore him,"
Hermione said, walking behind Harry.
"Just ignore him. He isn't worth it..."
"Oi, Potter!"
screeched the Slytherin girl Pansy Parkinson.
"Potter! The Dementors are coming, Potter! Boo-hoo-hoo!"
Sean stopped paying attention and took out his schedule instead, sitting down at the long table.
A moment later, the table—empty until then—miraculously sprouted the Weasley twins.
"Great Mr. Green, what are you looking at?"
George lifted his head and happened to see Malfoy pretending to faint in terror all over again.
"That little glutton. Dear me,"
he said calmly,
"when the Dementor got on the train last night, he wasn't nearly so full of himself. He dived straight into our compartment, didn't he, Fred?"
"Nearly wet himself."
Fred cast Malfoy a look of utter contempt.
"I wasn't exactly having the time of my life either,"
George said.
"Those Dementors are horrible creatures..."
"They practically freeze your insides, don't they?"
"But neither of you fainted, did you?"
Harry sat down too and asked Fred quietly.
"Don't think about it, Harry,"
George encouraged him.
"Remember that time Dad had to go to Azkaban, Fred?
He said he'd never seen a place so awful. When he came back, he was completely limp and shaking... the Dementors suck all the happiness out of you.
Most of the prisoners in there go mad in the end."
While Sean was revising his Potions notes, more people gradually filled the smaller table around them.
Come to think of it, Sean's time was getting more and more limited.
He still needed to brew an Expert-level Calming Draught, and he still had to push Fiendfyre proficiency up to Master.
Only then would he be able to earn two new titles within the first week of term.
What would they provide?
He had been looking forward to that for a long time.
Beside him, Hermione was studying her new class schedule.
"Oh, this is brilliant, Sean—look, we're starting several new subjects today."
She said it cheerfully.
"Hermione,"
before Sean could answer, Ron leaned over her shoulder and frowned.
"They've made a complete mess of your timetable.
Look—they've got you down for about ten classes in one day. How's that even possible?"
"I'll manage. I've already talked it over with Professor McGonagall. Sean has too."
Hermione added that last bit.
"Sean, maybe... but look,"
Ron said suspiciously,
"see this morning? Nine o'clock, Divination.
Then below that, nine o'clock, Muggle Studies. And then—"
Ron bent closer over the timetable as if he couldn't believe his eyes.
"Look—below that, Arithmancy. Nine o'clock.
I know you're brilliant, Hermione, but nobody's that brilliant.
How are you supposed to be in three classrooms at once?"
"Don't be ridiculous,"
Hermione said shortly.
"Of course I'm not going to be in three classrooms at once."
"Then how—"
"Pass the marmalade."
Hermione said.
"But—"
"Oh, honestly, Ron, even if my schedule is a bit full, what's it to you?"
Hermione snapped.
"I told you, Sean and I both already spoke to Professor McGonagall about it."
"Oh..."
Ron looked a little wounded.
~~~
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