Tick.
Tock.
Time slipped by.
Inside the clock's casing, a small brown bear clung to the hands with both paws, its body taut as it strained backward.
Because its strength wasn't evenly applied, the hands sped up and slowed down irregularly.
Beneath the clock hung a long-spouted watering can.
It sprayed out silvery-white mist that drifted and coiled, enveloping a cabinet filled with large drawers, no one quite sure what was stored inside.
In one corner of the room, a weather instrument released dark clouds that let fall a gentle rain, making the ornamental herbs planted there sway softly.
"So this rune means gathering?"
Inside the dramatically transformed Defence Against the Dark Arts office, Dawn studied the dream lamp before him, carefully recording each dismantled rune onto parchment.
He looked at the symbol shaped like a small snake, thought for a moment, then overlaid it with another rune representing light.
In an instant, brilliance flared.
Unlike the lamp's original diffuse, hazy glow, the light now focused and condensed into a more solid beam.
Having deciphered yet another rune through reference to his books, Dawn twirled his quill in satisfaction.
But he knew this was far from enough.
Light alone carried no magic. The dream lamp used other runes to imbue the light with effects, granting it magical properties.
What he needed to do next was locate that part of the runic circuit and find a way to amplify it, pushing the magic density within the light to a certain threshold.
Knock, knock.
"Professor Hickman, the opening feast is about to begin."
Professor McGonagall's voice came from outside the office door.
Dawn's thoughts paused. He came back to himself and called out, "Just a moment, I'll be right there."
He gathered the scattered parchments and slipped them into a drawer, then stepped out of the office.
Professor McGonagall was still wearing her dark green robes as she walked with him toward the Great Hall.
"Professor Hickman, are you settling in well here?"
"Very well," Dawn replied with a smile. "For any wizard who loves magic, this place is irresistible."
Professor McGonagall smiled in return. "Once the students return, the castle will feel even livelier than it does now."
Will it?
Dawn raised an eyebrow, privately disagreeing.
Still, he merely echoed her words and put on an expression of anticipation.
The sky was already filled with sunset clouds, a light mist shrouding the forest and embracing the towering castle perched on the cliffs.
They chatted briefly along the way. Professor McGonagall shared some teaching advice, and before long, they reached the Great Hall on the first floor.
The hall was quiet.
The students had not yet arrived. The four House tables were empty, but the professors were already seated.
Dawn saw Dumbledore, Sprout, Flitwick—and, of course, Snape, sitting stiffly with a grim expression.
However—
What surprised him was the sight of a half-giant on the staff table, fidgeting and constantly rubbing his fingers together.
Hagrid?
Why was he here?
Dawn raised an eyebrow.
He clearly remembered that Hagrid wasn't supposed to become a professor until the following year.
Had Kettleburn retired early?
Dawn narrowed his eyes.
What he'd done last year shouldn't have affected the Care of Magical Creatures master—so was this Voldemort's doing?
Several lines of thought flickered through his mind in an instant.
Professor McGonagall noticed his gaze. As they stepped onto the staff dais, she introduced them.
"This is Rubeus Hagrid, our new Care of Magical Creatures professor this year."
Dawn smiled slightly and extended his hand. "Hello. I'm Leia Hickman. I'll be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"Oh! Hello—hello!"
Hagrid froze for a moment, then hurriedly stood up. With a loud bang, he knocked the table askew, nearly sending Professor Flitwick—who had both hands on the tabletop—flying.
The half-giant carefully grasped the hand offered to him, bowing repeatedly.
Even Dawn was momentarily taken aback by the reaction.
Seeing the friendly interaction, Professor McGonagall nodded in satisfaction. After exchanging a few more words, she left the hall to wait at the entrance for the incoming first-years.
Perhaps because they were both newcomers, Dawn and Hagrid were seated next to each other, closer to the center.
Dumbledore, seated at the far end, nodded to him. The distance was too great for conversation.
On Dawn's other side, however, his former Head of House proved very talkative, pulling him into a discussion about unique Egyptian spells and wandless casting techniques.
Dawn spoke quietly, drawing on what he'd read, managing to keep the conversation flowing without revealing any gaps.
At that moment—
The doors of the Great Hall opened.
Students from second to seventh year filed in first, taking their places at their respective House tables.
Conversation at the staff table stopped, and a solemn hush gradually settled over the hall.
The students also remained silent.
Suppressing their curiosity about the new faces on the staff table and their urge to share summer stories, they followed tradition and waited solemnly for the Sorting Ceremony.
Leaning back against his chair, Dawn looked with interest at the Sorting Hat resting on the tall stool in the center of the hall.
Even after all he'd experienced, the living, mist-like magical aura surrounding the hat still fascinated him.
After watching for a moment, he shifted his focus, narrowing his eyes as he surveyed the entire hall.
Draco Malfoy, Aemon Carter, the Islam twins, Neville Longbottom—old acquaintances he hadn't seen in a long time.
Dawn felt a strange mix of emotions.
At the Gryffindor table, he also spotted Hermione Granger, sitting rigidly in her seat.
She was probably worrying about Ron and Harry in the flying car, afraid they'd be expelled but too frightened to come forward and explain to the professors.
Scrape—
Dawn suddenly heard the sound of a chair sliding.
Turning his head, he saw Snape, seated at the edge, stand up with a frown and sweep out of the hall, robes billowing.
In a hurry because Harry hadn't arrived yet?
Dawn raised an amused eyebrow.
After about fifteen minutes of solemn waiting, the side doors of the hall finally opened.
A group of nervous children entered. Under Professor McGonagall's guidance, they stepped forward one by one, placing the hat on their heads to be Sorted.
Though the process was familiar to him, watching it from this perspective felt strangely enjoyable.
As cheers erupted from the House tables with each Sorting decision, the students finally began whispering among themselves.
"So that's our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor? He looks pretty young. I don't need him to be as good as Professor Snape—just better than Quirrell would be fine."
That was a Slytherin student's take.
"At last, Snape isn't teaching this class anymore! We've got a chance at the House Cup this term."
That came from Gryffindor.
As for Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, their students didn't seem to share a unified opinion, each group discussing it differently.
Bang!
Just as the Sorting was about to end, a dull thud sounded from outside the hall. Quite a few people jumped and craned their necks to look.
Dumbledore frowned, guessing it might have something to do with Harry's absence. But knowing Snape was already outside, he didn't act.
Dawn knew perfectly well that Harry and Ron had just crashed the flying car into the Whomping Willow, and he felt no interest whatsoever.
He quietly waited for dinner to appear, ate two steaks, drank a glass of milk, then stood up early and returned to his office.
Click.
The door opened, and the lights came on automatically.
Dawn sat back down at his desk, picked up his quill, and resumed studying the runes on the dream lamp.
As he paused to look up, his gaze fell on the timetable pinned to the corner of the desk.
Tomorrow, second period in the morning, would be his very first class.
And it just happened to be for the second-year Gryffindor and Slytherin students.
___________
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