Harry Potter : Bloodraven

The sun had passed its peak, bathing Hogwarts' corridors in bright afternoon light as students chatted and made their way to their classes. The topic of everyone's gossip was the new elective course professor, with whispers of his unconventional teaching style and how fascinating the first lesson had been for those who attended spreading quickly through the castle.

Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis strolled side by side at an unhurried pace, heading toward their next scheduled lesson. One spoke softly while the other's voice brimmed with excitement, their conversation centered on the most recent gossip spreading through the castle.

"Seriously, these rumors are getting more and more ridiculous every time I hear them," Tracey said, throwing a sideways glance at her companion.

Daphne shrugged casually. "It was bound to happen. People love exaggerating."

"But..." Tracey paced a little faster, then turned her sparkling eyes to meet her friend's. "That magic was really incredible... Do you think he'll teach us something like that?"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Do you seriously think that's some basic first-year spell? Besides, he's not the Charms professor."

Tracey grinned mischievously. "Still... you know... what if we just ask him to teach us?" Her voice took on a playful, persuasive tone.

Daphne sighed, shaking her head. "I don't think you've listened to a word I've said."

The two Slytherin witches soon reached their destination, and the moment they opened the door to the classroom, a wave of bustling noise hit their ears, making it feel as though they had stepped into Diagon Alley on a busy afternoon.

They paused in their tracks, momentarily taken aback by the sheer energy of the room. The classroom was large, dimly lit, but not so much that it was difficult to see across it.

Rows upon rows of desks and chairs were arranged in a half-moon shape, each row slightly inclined from the one before it. It resembled a set of stairs leading down, with the teacher's space at the center—just a large desk and a chair behind it, facing an open area in front that was somewhat larger than the rest.

The layout was familiar to the two girls, who recognized it as similar to the Muggle Science classroom, though this one was noticeably bigger.

And rightfully so, because students from all four houses filled nearly every seat, their voices overlapping in an excited hum that made the classroom feel more like a celebration than a lesson.

"Blimey," Tracey muttered, her eyes widening slightly. "Aren't there a bit too many?"

"It's not surprising. Professor Caesar's alchemy lessons combine all four houses."

They made their way through the crowded room and slipped into a pair of empty seats, catching fragments of animated conversations around them as they settled in.

Needless to say, the professor's name was on every witch or wizard's lips, talking about his earlier class as if they had been right there with him.

The two girls tried their best to ignore the gossip-filled chatter and glanced around the class, attempting to spot the subject of everyone's conversation, but to their disappointment, he was nowhere to be seen.

"The professor's not here yet, I guess..."

"We still have a few minutes," Daphne responded to her friend, keeping her calm as she settled into her seat.

"Hey, Greengrass!"

But then, she heard a familiar voice—annoyingly familiar—call out her name from the right. Turning her head, she saw the pompous blond looking in her direction.

"I heard you two were the only Slytherins who went to Professor Caesar's class. Is what they're saying true?"

Daphne raised an eyebrow, but then a memory surfaced, and she couldn't help it as a rare smile tugged at her lips. "Professor now? Wasn't he supposed to be a squib? Or have you forgotten calling him that to his face?"

She saw her idiot housemate visibly stiffen, sitting there at a loss for words.

As for Malfoy, it could be said that he hadn't had the best start since stepping onto the train for school. First, it was the famous "Boy Who Lived" giving him no face in front of his entire year, but the worst of it all was that he had let his arrogance get the better of him and insulted someone he most definitely should not have.

He had been trying to forget about it, but the embarrassing memory he had worked so hard to bury since yesterday resurfaced once again, and he couldn't help but feel a cold sweat break out on his forehead.

He remembered all too clearly how his father had warned him to tread carefully around certain individuals. Maverick Caesar, the new professor and a master alchemist, was one of those people. His father had emphasized repeatedly that his soon to be professor of Alchemy was the kind of wizard even the Malfoy family couldn't afford to offend.

But, of course, he hadn't known that when he had first met the professor. His sharp tongue had gotten the better of him, and in his usual arrogance, he had called the man a squib before even knowing who he was. Now, every time he remembered it, a wave of mortification washed over him.

"I didn't... mean it like that," Draco muttered, looking anywhere but at Daphne.

Daphne's smile widened, though her voice remained smooth. "Of course you didn't. But you did."

She saw the Slytherin blond gulp, hesitating to speak. Whether out of fear or something else, he finally looked at her with a pleading expression. "Can you... can you help me apologize to him? You know I wouldn't have said it if I'd known earlier."

Even for someone as introverted as Daphne, she couldn't help but find the blond boy's current embarrassing behavior amusing, a stark contrast to his usual arrogant self.

Then, a loud burst of laughter erupted beside her, and she didn't need to look to know its was her friend Tracey, nor why she had finally lost her battle to keep it in.

"Honestly..." Tracey said, rubbing the corner of her eye as if wiping away an imaginary tear of laughter. "For a second there, I thought someone was impersonating Draco Malfoy. Then..." she barely held back another fit of laughter. "Then I remembered you sticking your stinky foot in your idiot mouth yesterday."

Unbeknownst to them, and to any student present in the class, Maverick was already there, listening to their chatter the whole time while casually leaning against his desk. He shook his head with a smile, then turned his attention away from the group of Slytherins and glanced at his wrist to check the time.

It was almost time. He glanced over the sea of students once more, counting at least a hundred or more in the room—far more than what had been depicted in the books. Perhaps this was the correct number, he thought, recalling an interview with J.K. Rowling where she mentioned that Hogwarts had about a thousand students at any given time.

He dismissed the thought with a shake of his head. There was no point in dwelling on such details. This was his world now, not the one from a storybook.

With a final glance around the room, he snapped his fingers. The sharp sound rang out like a thunderclap, echoing through the classroom and instantly silencing the chatter.

Just as he was about to cancel the Disillusionment on himself, the classroom door swung open with a loud thud, startling everyone.

At first, Maverick thought another group of teachers had come to observe his class again. But then he saw two young wizards hurrying in, looking like they'd just run a marathon.

The students, who had just been silenced by Maverick's sharp snap also turned their heads toward the newcomers.

"Whoa... this is way bigger than Professor McGonagall's classroom," one of the boys exclaimed, his eyes wide as he took in the room. He seemed completely oblivious to the heavy silence and all the eyes now on him.

"I don't see the professor. Let's just find a seat," his companion said quickly, ignoring the comment and urging him along.

"Right... uh..." The first boy glanced around, and only then did he notice the entire room staring at them. "Harry, why's everyone staring at us..."

"Well that's because," Harry muttered. "We're bloody late. Now hurry up and move."

The two—Harry Potter and Ron Weasley—started walking down the rows of desks, glancing left and right as they searched for empty seats.

"Merlin's beard," Ron grumbled after a moment. "Why do the only seats left have to be in the front row?"

"Doesn't matter. Just go."

The pair quickly made their way to the front, ignoring the whispers that followed them, and slid into the only two vacant seats. They both let out a sigh, as if they'd just narrowly escaped something worse.

"Late again. Honestly, Ronald, Harry," a familiar voice called in a clipped tone. "You're going to cost us points. Again."

They turned to their right and saw their bushy haired housemate sitting in the same row, separated from them by another girl.

"We got lost! Again!" Ron defended, throwing up his hands. "This school's too bloody big, you know. You can't blame us for that!"

"At least this time, I don't see any cats," Harry added with a sly grin, earning a muffled laugh from Ron.

Hermione huffed and crossed her arms.

Maverick watched the so-called Golden Trio—Hermione Granger and her two dumb friends—with faint amusement. He wondered if he should pull a stunt similar to McGonagall's dramatic entrances just to see their reaction. But before he could entertain the thought further, another equally idiotic voice cut through the classroom.

"Potter. I told you it wouldn't do you any good hanging around with that Weasley fool."

Draco Malfoy's drawling tone carried from somewhere behind them, dripping with his usual arrogance.

Ron didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Somehow, Malfoy's voice had the kind of quality that etched itself permanently into his memory after that single unpleasant encounter.

"Shut your mouth, Malfoy!" Ron snapped, spinning in his seat to glare at him. "At least I didn't call the professor a squib. The whole bloody school knows about it now."

The room erupted into a chorus of chuckles, with several students casting Malfoy pitying glances while others smirked at his expense. Draco, for once, had no retort, and his face flushed a bright shade of pink as the sting of humiliation settled in.

Ron, encouraged by the laughter and feeling like the hero of the moment, stood up on his chair. He stretched out his arm dramatically, pointing a finger at Malfoy as if delivering a theatrical proclamation.

"That's right! You called Professor Caesar a squib!" he declared, his voice ringing out over the murmurs. "And you know what? I heard it from one of your slimy snake friends! So you better behave, Malfoy, or I'll remind the professor about it every ten minutes of the class!"

Ron puffed out his chest, clearly expecting another wave of laughter to follow his bold display. However, the reaction he expected never came. The seconds ticked by, and instead of laughter, the classroom grew unsettlingly quiet.

Frowning, Ron opened his eyes and glanced around. That's when he noticed the other students weren't looking at him anymore. Their eyes were fixed somewhere behind him, their expressions ranging from sheepish to downright panicked.

"Mr. Weasley," came a calm yet sharp voice that sent shivers down Ron's spine.

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Author's Note:

Just a quick update — up to Chapter 112 is already available on P AT r30n!

PAT r30n [.] com / RyanFic