Friday arrived, marking the first official Care of Magical Creatures class.
For Hofah, this was his first formal magical creatures lesson at Hogwarts—if you didn't count the informal experiences from his first year. Back then, he'd learned about creatures like Nundu, Quintaped, Thunderbirds, and Centaurs.
However, given the death of the Centaur in the Forbidden Forest and the subsequent explosion at the school, Hofah found it hard to imagine what magical creatures still remained within Hogwarts grounds.
Curious about the class content, he was even more intrigued by Aglaea's father—who had even skipped the welcome feast.
The class was held at the edge of the Forbidden Forest near the Black Lake. That morning, a fresh rain had left the air crisp and the ground damp, with the grass springy underfoot.
When Hofah arrived, textbook in hand, he found a crowd of students already gathered. Dressed in robes of red, blue, green, and yellow representing their houses, the number of attendees was so large that it felt more like a Quidditch match than a lesson.
It seemed both upper and lower-year students were eager to be chosen for the special training offered in Care of Magical Creatures, hoping for a reprieve from Hogwarts' grueling coursework this year.
Yet, to Hofah's surprise, there weren't any magical creatures in sight. Instead, a few tables were haphazardly placed on the grass, piled with neatly folded gray garments.
A closer inspection revealed they were swimsuits.
Swimsuits? Hofah was baffled. Why were swimsuits prepared for a magical creatures class instead of magical creatures?
As the students speculated, a sudden surge of magical energy rippled through the air, drawing everyone's attention to the center of the crowd.
The students quickly stepped aside as a cloud of gray mist dissipated, revealing a silver-haired figure.
Out of the mist walked a young man with a cigarette between his lips.
Dressed in a black leather wizard's coat with several silver curved knives strapped to his waist, he looked sharp and capable. His silver hair was tied into a ponytail, and his slender frame gave him a wiry appearance. However, his demeanor was far from energetic. His half-lidded eyes, coupled with his slightly hunched posture, made him seem utterly lethargic.
"Pfft." Exhaling a smoke ring, the young man asked, "Is everyone here?"
The sight of the silver-haired youth emerging from nowhere made Hofah squint in thought. As he glanced at Aglaea, standing next to her cousin Sherlock, a sense of surreal absurdity overcame him.
Could this young man, who seemed barely older than himself, really be Aglaea's father?
Was it even possible?
Hofah found it hard to believe. After all, Aglaea's mother already had crow's feet at the corners of her eyes, yet her father appeared as youthful as a teenager.
Could this be linked to his elven heritage? Legends did say that elves aged more slowly than humans.
Turning mechanically, Hofah stared at Aglaea's face, hoping to glean some clues. Yet, her expression remained stoic, almost numb, her fists clenched tightly.
Hofah wasn't the only one shocked. The surrounding students were equally stunned.
The man introduced himself, "I'm Fatir Salyon Delaceth. You can just call me Fatir." His voice was monotone, his posture hunched as he spoke.
"Fatir?"
Gasps of disbelief rippled through the crowd.
"You're the Care of Magical Creatures professor?"
"How old are you?" a girl blurted out.
"That's private, miss," he replied, exhaling another puff of smoke.
The towering Gryffindor boy crossed his arms, sizing Fatir up. "Are you kidding me? Lying will get you cursed, you know!"
In response, Fatir merely tapped the silver staff badge on his chest, offering no further explanation.
The badge was unmistakably authentic, silencing many doubts but sparking a new wave of murmurs.
"This guy's really a professor?"
"Has the headmaster lost his mind?"
"Maybe he's a relative of the headmaster?"
"Even if he is, that doesn't mean he can treat Hogwarts like his own backyard!"
A group of Gryffindors in red robes stepped forward.
"Professor, why don't you prove yourself first?"
Hofah, standing quietly on the sidelines, could understand the Gryffindors' skepticism. Fatir's youthful appearance made him look no older than a fifth-year student. For the sixth and seventh years, accepting someone so young as their teacher was undoubtedly difficult.
He was equally curious about how this seemingly young professor would manage to subdue the unruly Gryffindor upperclassmen.
Fatir, however, made no unnecessary movements. Standing idly, he took another drag of his cigarette and nonchalantly said, "If you want to attend, do it. If not, scram."
The words stunned the Gryffindors, some of whom gasped audibly, raising their arms in protest. Their aggressive stance, however, was completely ignored by Professor Delaceth.
Hofah thought to himself, Wow, this guy is the complete opposite of Jago from a few days ago. Jago always maintained a gentle smile, while this man is extraordinarily blunt.
As expected, Fatir finished his cigarette, snuffed it out with his foot, and stated directly, "My dragon-taming course isn't for everyone. To select suitable students, I've devised an elimination process.
"In the Scottish Highlands, about fifty kilometers from here, lies an abandoned hunting ground built by ancient wizards. I don't care how you do it—anyone who can swim across the Black Lake before sunset will qualify for my course."
With that, he gestured toward the far side of the lake. The students followed his hand, their eyes tracing the shimmering water, which stretched endlessly into the horizon.
"How... how many kilometers?" a student stammered.
"Fifty kilometers?"
"Wait, swim fifty kilometers?!"
"Is he serious?"
The crowd turned back, hoping to confirm the professor's claim. But by the time they looked, the lanky professor had already vanished into thin air, disappearing through some unknown spell.
From his arrival to his departure, Fatir spent less than two minutes.
Seeing how decisively the professor left, the students erupted into chatter.
Out of curiosity, they gathered around Aglaea, bombarding her with questions:
"Is that your brother?"
"It must be—they both have the last name Delaceth!"
"Wow, is he really your brother?"
"Your brother is so cool!" one girl gushed.
"And kind of handsome!"
"Just a bit skinny, though," another added.
"Skinny, but he has charm."
"How old is he?"
"Does he have a girlfriend?"
"Could you introduce me—"
"SHUT UP!" Aglaea roared, her face flushed bright red.
She grabbed a swimsuit off the table and stormed into the changing room without looking back, leaving the girls behind, exchanging confused glances, unsure of what had just happened.
Hofah knew why. These girls were just shy of outright saying, "I want to sleep with your dad." Given Aglaea's personality, it was no surprise she exploded.
To be honest, Hofah himself hadn't expected that Aglaea's father would turn out to be the same guy who had helped him on the train. Back then, Hofah had already thought the man was peculiar.
Still...
Swimming.
Hofah glanced at the pile of standardized swimsuits on the table.
With a sigh, he thought to himself, Swimming is the one thing I'm worst at.
(End of Chapter)
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