Chapter 6
August 25th, 10 a.m.
Lucian stood dressed entirely in black, carrying a black dragon-hide suitcase, with his two assistants standing before the fireplace. "Hogwarts should have opened the temporary passage by now. Let's go."
The two assistants nodded, calmly sprinkling Floo powder one after another and departing.
"Hogwarts Deputy Headmaster's Office."
With a burst of green flames, Lucian's figure vanished right after them.
Hogwarts Deputy Headmaster's Office.
By the time Lucian arrived, Professor McGonagall was already chatting with the two assistants. The woman renowned for her sternness maintained her usual expressionless face. If not for her unusually gentle tone, someone unfamiliar might have assumed she was displeased.
Compared to Jeffrey's casual indifference, Jeffery was exactly the type to think that way—but fortunately, as their teacher appeared, the seemingly severe old woman's lips curved upward ever so slightly.
That tiny arc alone made her appear instantly kinder.
"Your sense of punctuality is as impeccable as ever, Lucian."
This guy had been like this since his school days—never arriving early to draw attention, yet never late either. Always perfectly on time, mature beyond his years.
"Professor McGonagall, it's been a long time." Lucian stepped out of the fireplace and greeted her softly.
The two assistants quietly took their positions behind him. Professor McGonagall quickly looked Lucian over and nodded. In truth, this was their first in-person meeting after years of correspondence by letter.
She had to admit, Lucian looked far younger than she had imagined—barely distinguishable from his two young assistants, except for a deeper, more profound aura. By contrast, Snape, who was the same age, already carried the full appearance of a middle-aged man.
Regarding Lucian—a Slytherin graduate who had kept an extremely low profile during his school years—Professor McGonagall had been quite surprised when she first received his letter.
In it, Lucian had used his characteristically formal and polite language to courteously ask her advice on certain magical questions he had encountered. All of them were deeply thoughtful topics, which piqued her interest.
Though Professor McGonagall wasn't particularly fond of Slytherin students, she wouldn't refuse Lucian simply because of his house. Her tone in their exchanges, naturally, wasn't overly warm.
After several letters, they completely dispensed with polite pleasantries and discussed only the issues themselves.
This style of communication had since become firmly established between them.
At one point, Professor McGonagall had suggested that Lucian publish some of his discoveries in "Transfiguration Today", but he declined, citing a desire to avoid the spotlight. After that, their correspondence became even more strictly professional.
Now that they were finally meeting face-to-face, the feeling was rather strange—more awkward than meeting an online friend for the first time.
Like familiar strangers, but without the tangled emotions of lovers.
"Please, sit."
Professor McGonagall pressed her lips together, unsure what attitude to adopt, and simply switched straight into work mode.
She waved her wand, and a cabinet opened automatically. One after another, winged sheets of parchment flew out and neatly stacked themselves in front of Lucian.
"Here are the files on all the students across every year."
"Your office is in the dungeons, next to Professor Snape's—"
"Professor, pardon the interruption."
"I'm not very comfortable with the underground atmosphere, you know—I spent seven years down there. I'm afraid if I stay any longer, I might accidentally catch rheumatism one day."
"Then what do you suggest?"
Professor McGonagall didn't believe Lucian would actually get rheumatism, but she was someone who respected others' opinions.
"I remember there's an abandoned classroom on the ground floor. Would it be possible for me to use that as my office?"
"That would be fine, though it hasn't been cleaned yet."
"That's no problem. I have a house-elf to help me—speaking of which, I haven't introduced him to you yet." Lucian opened his suitcase. After channeling magic into the silver serpent-shaped clasp, the house-elf Barton jumped straight out.
"An impressive Undetectable Extension Charm." Professor McGonagall praised quietly, without showing much expression.
Lucian nodded in thanks and continued the introduction"This is my house-elf. His name is Barton. Barton, this is Professor McGonagall, my former Transfiguration teacher."
"Hello, Professor." Dressed in a miniature blue suit, Barton immediately bowed respectfully to Professor McGonagall upon appearing.
"Hello." Professor McGonagall nodded, realizing this house-elf was different from the ones she usually saw—this one had not been restricted in its freedom.
Of course. Given Lucian's personality, how could he ever treat a house-elf like a slave? This small detail alone raised her estimation of Lucian yet another notch.
"He can stay here and work alongside the house-elves in the kitchens—I'm not sure if he'll adjust well."
"If he can't adapt, I'll find another place for him."
"Hmm—very well, then. I'll inform the kitchen house-elves as soon as possible."
Professor McGonagall nodded and moved on to the next item.
"Given the nature of your research, I must make this clear in advance—you may teach students how to recognize, resist, and counter dark magic, but you are strictly forbidden from teaching any offensive dark curses."
Seeing Lucian nod, she handed him two sheets of parchment. "This is your timetable. You will be responsible for teaching all seven year groups, and classes will still be held in the usual classroom."
Lucian continued nodding, accepting the timetable and the castle map. He glanced at it absentmindedly—and then his expression changed!
Lucian suddenly realized he had unwittingly overlooked a critically important issue.
On the parchment timetable before him, every morning and every afternoon, from Monday through Friday, was solidly filled with classes—without exception!!!
"In addition to regular teaching, you will also be responsible for lesson preparation, grading assignments, and occasionally supervising detentions." Professor McGonagall's voice continued, but Lucian was no longer calm. With so many class hours, he would only have weekends free to focus on his magical research.
He had thought coming here would be like retiring to a peaceful paradise—how had it suddenly turned him into a complete workhorse?
Nearly 30 class periods a week—an exhausting teaching load with almost no breathing room. This… this had to be Hogwarts' greatest curse, right???
'Tch, I was careless!' Lucian's brow furrowed imperceptibly.
"Lucian, I must be frank." Professor McGonagall, unaware of his inner turmoil, spoke with a serious yet sincere expression.
"The position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has shown unusual 'turnover' over the past many years. The school and the students need a stable, reliable professor. We sincerely hope you will be the one to end this cycle of instability."
"If you encounter any difficulties in teaching, or need any assistance—whether in managing the classroom or dealing with certain mischievous students—my office door is always open to you."
"Hogwarts is a centuries-old prestigious school. We cherish every single student here. I believe that with your excellence, you can teach them something truly valuable." Having said this, Professor McGonagall stood up, her expression softening, a warm smile touching her eyes.
"Welcome once again, Lucian. I hope you find your place here."