A voice rang out suddenly from the very back of the classroom. It was Dumbledore — who had slipped in at some unknown point — looking at Vincent with a grave expression. "We agreed this course would be kept within certain limits."
"My apologies, Professor — that was my mistake. I got carried away."
Vincent glanced at the pale, dazed girl and promptly added: "I'm sorry, Miss Parkinson. I apologise for putting you on the spot like that."
"…"
Pansy Parkinson said nothing, just lowered her head, her mind crowded with those numbers.
"Right then — that was a minor detour. Let's get back to it."
As everyone began reaching for their textbooks, Vincent quickly held up both hands. "No, no — we won't be needing those today. Not for the first lesson."
He snapped his fingers lightly. A white screen descended from the ceiling. He then produced an old film projector. "Mr. Goyle was just kind enough to mention Muggle films — so for our very first lesson, let's watch one together."
"You're all going to enjoy Back to the Future."
Under normal circumstances, no electronic device could function within Hogwarts Castle — but Vincent had specifically included a proposal in the curriculum plan he'd submitted to Dumbledore, requesting permission to use films, televisions, and projectors as teaching aids, to help young witches and wizards better understand the Muggle world.
The curtains drew shut. The candles went out. The classroom fell dark. The old projector whirred and clattered to life, casting its moving image onto the screen — and the film began.
Vincent quietly slipped out of the classroom with Dumbledore.
"Vincent…"
"I understand, Professor. That was on me — it won't happen again."
Dumbledore's expression softened. "Honestly, in my heart, I don't think you were wrong just now. But they are children, all the same. Even if you want to change their way of thinking, it has to be done slowly, a little at a time."
"Understood."
Vincent said firmly: "I promise that going forward, the course will simply help them understand the Muggle world and correct certain misconceptions. Anything beyond that — not without your say-so."
"…"
Dumbledore shook his head with a helpless sigh. He paused, then asked: "If you were facing the sort of Muggle weapon you described just now — something capable of causing tens of thousands of casualties a day — what would you do?"
Vincent smiled. "You know as well as I do, Professor — raw destructive power has never been where wizards excel. Against Muggles, the Confundus Charm, the Obliviate, memory modification — those are the truly frightening tools."
"And beyond that, I could simply go and assassinate their leaders. Turn their whole operation to chaos."
Dumbledore was unsurprised — he could have thought of the same. "And in your view — if Muggles and wizards ever came to open conflict, who would win?"
"The Muggles."
"Why?"
"Because I believe that no matter what started the conflict, there would always be wizards who stood on the Muggle side. In other words, a wizard's enemies would not be Muggles alone."
"…"
Dumbledore gave a rueful smile. "Are you referring to me?" — For once, long ago, he had been precisely the wizard who stood on the Muggle side, and stopped Grindelwald.
Two hours later, as Back to the Future rolled its credits, the group of young students hadn't fully come back to themselves. Clearly they hadn't had nearly enough. Each of them sat staring at the screen, as if the cast list still held some secret worth discovering — even Malfoy, who ordinarily looked down his nose at everything Muggle.
Others chattered amongst themselves, debating what they'd do if they could travel to the past.
Click.
The classroom brightened again. Vincent smiled around at them. "It seems most of you enjoyed the film."
"And that, right there, is your first step into the Muggle world."
"Now, I need each of you to go away and write an essay on any topic related to Muggles. No minimum length, no set theme — but there is one condition: it must be completed as a joint effort between two students from different houses."
A collective blink.
"That's right. You must find a partner from either Slytherin or Gryffindor — whichever you're not in — and co-write the essay. Solo submissions don't count. Same-house collaborations don't count either."
"What?!"
A groan of protest swept through the room, followed immediately by students shooting suspicious glances at those across the aisle.
"If, by the next lesson, at least half your essays are good enough to satisfy me, I'll screen Back to the Future Part II — the sequel to today's film."
Whoa!!!
The room erupted in cheers.
"Right, that's all for today. See you next week."
With that, he made his way briskly through the students and out of the classroom.
"Professor Vincent!"
He'd barely gone a few steps before someone called after him. Harry Potter.
Vincent turned and looked at him, his expression even. "Yes?"
"…"
Harry's smile froze. He could feel the cool distance radiating off Vincent — the unmistakable sense of a stranger.
"Is there something you need, Mr. Potter?"
Vincent asked again.
"N— no. Nothing."
Harry dropped his head slightly.
"What's the matter, Harry?"
Ron had wandered over to find Harry standing there in a daze, staring at nothing.
"I…"
Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. He couldn't find the words. His thoughts were in knots, as if a serpent were coiling around his heart: Had Vincent suddenly grown distant because Harry had ended up in Gryffindor?
Right. Ron and the others had said it — Gryffindor and Slytherin were sworn enemies. Even if Vincent had long since graduated, he had still been a Slytherin. So in his eyes, hadn't Harry's sorting into Gryffindor been… a betrayal?
In an instant, Harry's heart went cold.
"Just — just let me have a moment."
"Oh — sure."
Elsewhere, Vincent was suddenly struck by a belated thought: Right — Harry's been spending the past two weeks with Bernadette. They've probably gotten quite close.
That's why he came over to say hello.
But… I don't actually know Harry, and I haven't got a clue how Bernadette's been getting on with him.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, a wave of admiring gasps drifted from up ahead.
"Oh wow, she's adorable!"
"She's gorgeous!"
"Look at that coat — so soft, so beautiful!"
"I swear, that is the most stunning cat I've ever seen."
Vincent glanced over out of curiosity. Six or seven girls had formed a circle, and at the centre of it lay a ragdoll cat with the most magnificent, luxuriously fluffy coat — stunning was not too strong a word.
It flicked its bushy tail and nuzzled against the girls in turn, letting out the daintiest little mews, its sapphire eyes blinking slowly at each of them in turn — and every girl it looked at let out a squeal, then scrambled eagerly to dig out whatever snacks she had on her.
Half a minute later, the ragdoll cat selected the girl who had produced both the most and the most expensive offerings, and leapt neatly into her arms. The girl immediately shrieked with delight: "You want to come home with me?! Oh, I'll give you only the best things!! Waah…"
The ragdoll cat preened internally: Hmph. Pathetic little humans. All it takes is the slightest effort on my part and you're completely wrapped around my paw.
Then its blue eyes snapped into sharp focus. Its entire body went rigid in the girl's arms.
Oh no. It's the Big Devil.
Wait — I look different now. He definitely won't recognise me!
And indeed, the Big Devil only glanced her way once before turning and walking off, making his way with confident familiarity straight to the school library — clearly not forgetting his true reason for being at Hogwarts.
The first day of the new school year was a quiet one in the library. Apart from a small number of genuinely devoted readers, no one was keen to spend the very first day buried in books.
Madam Pince, the librarian, was wandering about with a book in one hand and a feather duster in the other, reading and tidying in a leisurely sort of way. She looked up at the sound of footsteps and smiled warmly. "Welcome, Professor Vincent."
"Good afternoon, Madam Pince."
"If I recall correctly, this is the first time we've met in the library." Madam Pince smiled. "You never once came in during your school years — and yet here you are on the very first day of term, now that you're a professor."
"Youth is wasted on the young, as they say. I didn't appreciate knowledge back then. Now that I've grown up, I intend to make up for lost time."
"Most people never come to that realisation in their entire lives."
The librarian sighed, then asked: "What can I help you find?"
Vincent came straight to the point. "Anything on ancient runes and ancient magic."
"Oh, those two tend to be shelved together — over at the far end of the right-hand row."
"Thank you."
He tapped his wand to conjure a dim light and walked into the shadowed depths of the library, quickly locating the relevant shelves.
The Wonders of Runic Script. A Theory of Ancient Runes. Legends of Ancient Magic. On the Evolution of Magic. And so on and so forth.
He spent the better half of the afternoon working his way through virtually every volume on the shelves. They were almost entirely theoretical in nature — ancient magic in particular had been reduced largely to folklore, and several texts declared bluntly that it was entirely obsolete and not worth studying.
Ancient runes were much the same. Hogwarts did offer them as an elective, but the course existed mainly to help students read ancient manuscripts written in runic script.
Might as well try the Restricted Section.
The Restricted Section of Hogwarts library was genuinely restricted — Secrets of the Darkest Art, the book that had helped Voldemort create his Horcruxes, had come from this very section.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, Vincent caught a shadow dart behind a bookshelf. The light was poor and the figure had moved quickly, but he couldn't suppress a smile. "Professor Quirrell — is that you? I can smell the garlic."
To be continued…