Meanwhile, in the Deputy Headmistress's office at Hogwarts—
With a burst of green flames roaring up in the fireplace and a sharp pop, a figure stumbled out of the Floo and nearly knocked over the fire tongs while trying to steady herself.
"Good evening, Professor McGonagall! Sorry—bit dusty…"
Nymphadora Tonks hurriedly brushed soot off her robes and greeted the woman behind the desk with an embarrassed grin.
Professor McGonagall looked up from a towering pile of essays and fixed Tonks with a stern gaze over her square spectacles. With a flick of her wand, the soot vanished from the carpet. Then she spoke coolly:
"Professor Sprout wishes to see you, Miss Tonks. Immediately."
She didn't say why—but the tight line of her lips and the severity in her expression made Tonks's stomach drop. Instinct told her this was definitely not about praising her for representing Hogwarts well outside the castle.
Tonks's mood sank even further.
Her day had already been dreadful. Auror pre-training had been a complete disaster. Mad-Eye Moody had simulated a mission: infiltrate a Dark wizard hideout and assassinate the target without triggering any alarms.
Tonks had an extraordinary talent for disguise. Stealth, however… not so much. At the worst possible moment she always kicked over flowerpots, stepped on dry twigs, or tripped over her own feet.
"If the Dark wizards were blind and deaf, you might survive, Tonks!" Moody's gravelly roar still echoed in her head. "Not vigilant enough! Not careful enough!"
Head bowed, she trudged toward Professor Sprout's office.
It stung even more because the previous day Moody had actually praised her disguise skills, calling her a natural master of infiltration. They had chatted so long about his younger days that she'd missed the Hogwarts welcome feast.
And now the old madman had turned on her completely, shouting until his wooden leg thudded against the floor like a drum.
Two minutes later, Tonks emerged from Sprout's office looking like a wilted plant after frost.
Just as she'd feared, she'd been thoroughly scolded and informed she had missed a very important lesson from the new professor.
"Go apologise to Professor Shafiq. Immediately," her Head of House had said, leaving no room for argument.
Tonks walked mechanically toward what she remembered was the Defence Against the Dark Arts office, picturing the new professor as she went.
Hufflepuff students had been talking about him the night before—young, extremely handsome, teaching both Defence Against the Dark Arts and Alchemy. A genius.
"Alchemy…"
She muttered the word... and suddenly froze.
A bolt of realization struck her.
"Merlin's smelly socks!"
She gasped. Not only did she have to apologise, she also had Alchemy class tonight.
She yanked out her pocket watch and checked it in the dim corridor light.
Five minutes until class.
"Oh no, no, no—!"
She spun to run, only to discover a fatal problem.
She had no idea where the Alchemy classroom was.
Her timetable was in her dormitory. She'd gone to Auror training carrying nothing but her wand.
"I'm doomed…"
She stood at the staircase in despair.
Running back to Hufflepuff wouldn't work. Asking Professor Sprout again would mean another lecture.
As she debated her fate, steady footsteps sounded from below.
A tall wizard was walking up the marble staircase.
In the torchlight, Tonks saw his face clearly.
Handsome. Sharp features. Calm, composed. Wearing dark robes without a House badge.
'Which House is he from?' she wondered.
How have I never seen someone this handsome in seven years?
His mature demeanor convinced her he must be a senior student.
Desperate times.
She rushed forward and stopped him.
"Um... excuse me!"
She asked breathlessly, eyes full of urgency. "Do you know where the Alchemy classroom is? I'm about to be late!"
Her voice trailed off as her eyes widened.
Behind him stood a half-human-sized puppet, walking stiffly while carrying a stack of books. Its cold silver surface gleamed eerily in the torchlight.
'What is that thing…?'
The wizard didn't answer immediately. He simply studied her with calm grey-blue eyes. No annoyance. No mockery. Impossible to read.
The silence became painfully awkward.
Under his gaze, and panicking about being late, Tonks's short brown hair suddenly began changing color from the roots outward, turning bright, shocking pink.
She didn't even have time to control her Metamorphmagus ability before he finally spoke.
"The Alchemy classroom is on the fourth floor. Last room at the end of the corridor."
His voice was smooth and steady.
"Ah! Thank you! Thank you so much!"
Tonks didn't question how he knew. She didn't question why he wasn't surprised by her hair.
She sprinted away like a rabbit fleeing a fire.
Her footsteps faded into the distance.
William Shafiq stood at the staircase, watching the pink-haired figure disappear, shaking his head with amusement.
The moment her hair changed color, he'd recognized her as the student who skipped his class: Nymphadora Tonks.
"Just as Professor Sprout said. A complete klutz."
He chuckled softly, not offended at being mistaken for a student. If anything, it proved he still looked young and hot.
He adjusted his sleeves and snapped his fingers at the alchemical puppet.
"Come on. Time for class. We can't have the students waiting in the classroom while the professor is still wandering the stairs."
A hot dude and a strange puppet walked calmly towards the fourth floor.
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