Inside St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
In the reception room, Thorne sat on a bench, flipping through a Hogwarts brochure while his eyes unconsciously wandered around the room.
There were bugs everywhere.
Bugs of various shapes and bizarre states were communicating their respective conditions with a rising and falling chorus of chirps.
Mosquitoes with only four legs, weevils with mantis-like forearms, a tiny bug that wouldn't stop shivering, and countless others missing limbs.
But maybe precisely because they were all bugs, Thorne didn't find these sights all that weird.
On the contrary, that messy, noisy atmosphere that still had a hint of familiar order gave him a strange illusion.
Like he was back in the human world, in one of those overcrowded county hospitals.
Except, the "people" here were all just bugs.
Just then, the reception room door was pushed open.
A bee head poked in.
"Thorne."
Dumbledore said with a smile, "If your tour is over, we can set off. The Portkey application has been approved."
Thorne immediately closed the brochure, stood up, and followed Old Bee out of the reception room.
The two, oh wait, one person and one insect, crossed the corridor and walked toward a narrow little room.
Inside the room, there seemed to be a... fly wearing a healer's uniform sitting there.
To be honest.
That round, pudgy figure gave Thorne an incredibly strong sense of incongruity.
But he wasn't in the mood to look closer, and just spoke up a bit hesitantly:
"Professor, that... uh—"
"Sorry, Mr. Thorne."
Dumbledore calmly interrupted him, his tone still gentle.
"Unless I want to lose a cash cow..."
He paused, as if realizing his wording wasn't quite right, "—no, an excellent professor."
"Otherwise, I'd never allow you to keep visiting the intensive care unit here."
Thorne was silent for a moment, then couldn't help but ask back:
"But the thing is, Headmaster..."
"Is it really possible that seventy percent of this place consists of intensive care units?"
As he spoke, his gaze had already fallen onto his own system panel.
[Current Special Environment: St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries （31.3%）]
[Reward Obtained: Soul Vessel Fragment × 1]
Dumbledore turned back, glanced at Thorne, and smiled slightly.
"Mr. Thorne."
"We are wizards, after all."
"You'll get used to it slowly."
Having said that, he signed his name on the pamphlet handed over by that Healer Fly.
"...Wizards?"
Thorne put away his system panel speechlessly.
He suddenly had a strong premonition that his prospects of coming to this world to be a teacher might be... a bit grim.
Under the supervision of the Ministry of Magic staff, Thorne had just taken a brief tour of the first, fifth, and sixth floors of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
As for those floors in between.
Supposedly "too dangerous"—the intensive care areas Dumbledore mentioned—he wasn't allowed to go near them.
Just looking at those department names is enough to kill any curiosity.
Creature-Induced Injuries, Magical Diseases, and Potions and Plant Poisoning...
They really don't look like places a "Muggle" should just set foot in.
It did indeed match what Dumbledore said.
Still, Thorne felt inexplicably curious in his heart.
Mainly... back in Hallownest, it's not like he hadn't seen bugs infected with all sorts of weird things.
Yeah, the kind that weren't exactly clean, in their bodies or their dreams.
He really wanted to compare them.
Of course, the thought only did a quick lap in his head.
Next, he saw Dumbledore pick something up from the side.
It was a fairly old-looking toilet plunger.
"This is the Portkey."
Old Bee's tone was as natural as if he were introducing a teacup, "It will take us where we need to go, just hold onto it."
As he spoke, he had already gripped one end of the plunger.
"Wait a moment."
Dumbledore seemed to suddenly remember something and looked at Thorne, "Mr. Thorne, I noticed you were looking at the Hogwarts brochure just now."
"My previous introduction was indeed a bit general."
"That information should give you a more comprehensive understanding... any thoughts?"
Thorne looked bewildered, but he still obediently grabbed the other end of the handle.
"Um... how should I put it."
He thought about it and said honestly:
"Actually, I didn't finish it, I only finished the Slytherin part."
"Regarding their policy of 'only admitting students of wizarding descent,' I personally don't quite agree."
"Strictly speaking, this is also a form of racial discrimination—AHHH!!!"
Before he could finish.
Thorne suddenly felt as if some hook had given a sharp tug from behind his navel!
That force was impossible to resist.
In the next instant, his feet left the ground, and he was yanked up bodily.
He forced his eyes open and saw Dumbledore opposite him, looking as calm as ever, clearly long since used to this kind of thing.
Then the world began to rush forward madly.
The wind howled and his vision was a blur; he couldn't see a thing.
Thorne's palm was stuck fast to the plunger; the thing seemed magnetic, pulling and dragging him forward constantly.
Until—
"Thud!"
His feet hit the ground hard.
If an invisible force hadn't held him up, he had no doubt he'd have landed flat on his face right then.
Thorne stumbled a few steps and barely managed to steady himself.
"Whoa..."
He rubbed his stomach, his voice weak. "This is how people get around in the wizarding world?"
"It feels like being tossed into a washing machine and spun all the way around..."
After saying that, he looked up at the still-smiling Dumbledore, his tone helpless:
"Fine, fine, I'll get used to it."
Then, he subconsciously turned his head.
The sight before him made him quiet down.
A massive lake spread out quietly beneath his feet.
And atop the cliff at the end of the lakeshore, a magnificent castle was standing there.
"Landing points for temporary Portkeys are usually quite random."
Dumbledore said with a smile, "Welcome, Professor Thorne—this is where you will be working in the future."
As he spoke, he led Thorne toward the castle.
Along the way, Old Bee was telling him all sorts of stuff about Hogwarts, from the castle's history to the house system and even the staff lineup, covering every little detail.
It's just that Thorne basically didn't take in a single word.
His attention was completely captured by that massive castle in front of him, which was so grand it almost looked unreal.
Until the two of them reached the castle's huge main doors.
Dumbledore suddenly showed a look of surprise:
"Oh, Severus, what brings you here?"
"I thought you wouldn't usually stay at school during the summer break. I was actually planning to visit you in London."
"..."
The man standing at the door was silent for a moment before speaking coldly:
"I only came back to pick up some ingredients."
"As for the visit, if you're willing to pay overtime pay."
"Merlin's smallest socks!"
Dumbledore chuckled, "Severus, how could you let my ears hear such a sinful word as 'overtime'?"
The man didn't respond further.
Just standing there, he gave off a damp, oppressive feeling; his voice was low and cold, as if he lived in the Shade all year round.
While Thorne listened to the two chat, he formed an impression of the man in his mind.
Not someone to mess with.
After a few more words, Dumbledore stepped aside, letting the man come fully into Thorne's view.
The next moment, Thorne was completely stunned.
Fluffy.
For Thorne, who had spent the whole day in the world of insects, this was an extremely strong visual shock.
"This is Severus Snape."
Dumbledore introduced naturally, "Potions Professor at Hogwarts, and also the Head of Slytherin House."
"And this—"
He pointed to Thorne again, "is Eric Thorne."
"For now..."
Dumbledore paused, seeming a bit uncertain, "the position is still to be determined."
Snape looked coldly at the young man staring blankly at him, his brow slowly furrowing.
"What?"
"Is our new colleague an idiot?"
As soon as he finished speaking.
Thorne snapped out of it immediately.
He stepped forward abruptly, shaking Snape's hand with unusual enthusiasm, his tone sincere and excited:
"Hello, Professor Snape. Exactly right, Slytherin is right!"
"What?"
"I mean, we mammals are just superior to those arthropods!"
Thorne said so.
And in his eyes, the one standing in front of him was none other than a giant bat.