A Certain Magical Hogwarts

At the end of the corridor stood a carved wooden door.

This door had no handle, only a bronze bat statue mounted above it like a guardian deity.

William lightly knocked on the peculiar door.

The bat statue suddenly opened its eyes. Its wide mouth moved as a cold, feminine voice emerged.

"Enter."

As the voice faded, the wooden door creaked open on its own.

Though it was broad daylight outside, the room beyond was shrouded in darkness, as though heavy drapes had been drawn over every inch of the space.

William stepped in, Hermione timidly following close behind.

The door shut behind them, plunging the room into complete darkness, so thick that one couldn't see their own hand in front of their face.

"Why are you here, child?" The icy voice seemed to echo from all directions, "This is my resting time. You shouldn't be disturbing a professor during their break."

Hermione clung tightly to William's robes, her head ducked behind his back, clearly uneasy.

William flicked his wand, casting a small flame that leapt forth and lit the oil lamps lining the walls.

"Don't just turn the lights on all of a sudden, you idiot!" the voice snapped, startled and irritated, "My eyes!"

William looked up to see a luxurious sofa tucked in the corner of the room.

A young woman was lounging on it. She wore a casual short-sleeved shirt and loose shorts, exuding an air of leisure.

Her alabaster legs, long and flawless like carved jade, seemed almost to glow in the dim light, momentarily dazzling him.

Though his eyes ached from the brightness, William didn't look away.

Yes, painful, but… in a good way.

The woman, shielding her eyes, vanished in an instant, leaving the couch behind along with scattered cucumber-flavored potato chips.

Professor Bathsheba Babbling's office was unlike any other at Hogwarts.

It was more like a grand lounge, decorated opulently–perhaps even more so than Dumbledore's office. 

A faint aroma of incense lingered in the air.

But the cucumber scent mixed with it spoiled the room's otherwise elegant ambience.

What puzzled William most was that the room didn't have a single window.

He scanned the space. Antique art pieces and alchemical items adorned the office, arranged neatly yet perfectly.

Most striking of all, however, was the massive oil painting behind the desk.

The painting featured a goddess, her naked form rendered in vivid, captivating detail. She had silver hair and crimson eyes.

"This is The Seventh Chapter of Night. I painted it myself. What do you think? Not bad, right?"

Professor Babbling appeared next to William without warning, holding a crystal goblet filled with a bright red liquid.

It looked like blood.

Fresh, red blood.

She took a long sip through a thin straw and let out a satisfied sigh.

Her loose shorts had disappeared, replaced by a magnificent white French court gown trimmed with lace.

Professor Babbling's transformation was startling. 

She now looked like a princess, her beauty breathtaking, with perfectly crafted features, wine-red eyes, and silver hair cascading in soft waves over her shoulders.

Around her neck hung a sky-blue gemstone pendant, carved with the image of a serpent coiled around a staff.

Despite looking no older than eighteen, Professor Babbling had been teaching at Hogwarts for twelve years. Time seemed to have left no mark on her.

"Tea?" she offered, tilting her head. Though her tone was questioning, the fine china teapot on the table began pouring tea on its own.

"No sugar, no milk, thank you," William replied without hesitation.

"Well then, why don't we sit by the fireplace?" She snapped her fingers and vanished, reappearing on a gold velvet sofa.

Without warning, sofas appeared beneath William and Hermione as well.

The room around them shifted. It was no longer the grand office but a smaller, cozier space, still devoid of windows. 

A roaring fire in the hearth provided the only light.

"What do you young wizards need from me?"

Professor Babbling's goblet had vanished, replaced by a teacup. She held it elegantly, taking small sips.

"If you're here to ask about the final exam, forget it. I certainly wouldn't… trouble you with anything too difficult."

Professor Babbling showed a 'kind' smile.

"No, Professor. I'm a second-year student hoping to learn Ancient Runes from you," William explained.

"Oh, a little second-year?" She tilted her head, crossed her legs, and said impatiently, "Why would a second-year bother me now?

"This isn't class time. I need rest, to stay in bed… er… I mean, to exercise. I don't have time to play house with you."

She yawned and added lazily, "Unless, of course, you have something valuable to offer in exchange. I might consider sparing half a day to tutor you."

She waved dismissively. "But let me be clear: I don't need money, so don't offer me Galleons."

William thought for a moment and slipped a ring off his finger, tossing it to her.

William, much like Dumbledore, had taken to wearing multiple rings. Currently, he wore four:

On his right index finger, the Ravenclaw Bronze Ring.

On his right middle finger, a gift from Dumbledore.

On his left index finger, a ring enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm.

On his left pinky, a ring imbued with warming and windproof effects.

The ring he threw to Professor Babbling was the last one.

With a flick of her fingers, she sent the ring back, looking unimpressed, as though he'd handed her trash.

So, a picky woman, huh?

William tossed her the ring from Dumbledore next. After all, in a time loop, it would eventually return to him anyway.

She caught the ring, and a longsword materialized in her hand. She swung it experimentally, her lips curving into a smile.

"Not bad. Something that little rascal Dumbledore made. I suppose it's enough to justify a day's lesson... Wait."

Her attention shifted to the ring on William's index finger.

She reached out, her hand pale as jade, and grabbed his hand, inspecting the ring with narrowed eyes.

William shivered, her hands felt icy, almost lifeless.

"Give me this ring, and I'll teach you for free. For a year no less."

William didn't respond immediately. Instead, he said weakly, "Professor, you're hurting my hand."

The corners of babblings mouth twitched slightly. No one had dared to tease her like this before. She tightened her grip, her wine-red eyes fixed on him.

Damn, this woman is strong, William thought, wincing.

"But I can't take it off," he said through a grin.

She cast him a sly glance, her smile sending shivers down his spine. "Then we'll just cut it off—along with your hand."

"..."

"Haha, just kidding," She laughed, her voice like tinkling silver bells, "What kind of professor would I be otherwise? Fine, I've changed my mind. I'll teach you."

Hermione, clutching William's left hand nervously, seemed ready to pull him away.

"And you?" Babbling turned her gaze to Hermione, resting her chin on her hand with a smile.

"I'll teach you for free, but tonight, you'll need to stay and… warm my bed."

William glanced at Professor Babbling and thought, I wouldn't mind taking on that job myself.

Hermione, however, was too mesmerized by the professor's beauty to catch the ,eanig behind her words. All she could think was, She's absolutely stunning…

[tl/n: Babblings a pdf]

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