A Certain Magical Hogwarts

In the afternoon, Ravenclaw and Slytherin had History of Magic together.

In his previous life, William had been a science student, but he had always had a keen interest in history. 

However, the way History of Magic was taught was an absolute shock to him—it was so dry and boring that it made him want to sleep.

Professor Binns, dragging his pearly white ghostly form, drifted through the blackboard and into the classroom, startling everyone.

Well—He was a ghost.

If he had been dressed in something more in elegant, his entrance could have been as dramatic as a character from a horror film.

Professor Binns was ancient, even older than Dumbledore, or at least he looked it. His entire body was wrinkled, creased, and brittle. Unlike many magical creatures, no one had any desire to "adopt" or befriend him.

The legend of Professor Binns was well-known throughout Hogwarts. The official story was that Binns, while still alive, had one day risen to give a lecture and accidentally left his body behind in an armchair by the staff room fire. 

Ever since then, he had carried on teaching, unaware that he had died, continuing his duties as if nothing had changed.

Now that was dedication—so much so that Binns had been named one of the top ten most dedicated figures in the magical world. Every other professor could only dream of reaching such a standard.

William had a hard time imagining Snape following in those footsteps, his greasy-haired ghost haunting the dungeons, eternally torturing generations of students with his biting sarcasm.

But William also had his doubts about the official story. It seemed more likely that Professor Binns was a victim of the magical world's version of corporate exploitation—forced to continue teaching without pay or food, even after death. 

Truly a heartless system!

These thoughts grew stronger as Binns droned on in his monotone, sleepy voice about Evil Morwicks and Weird Yuriks. 

William could barely stay awake, fighting the urge to immediately rescue Binns and petition the school for a replacement teacher.

He wasn't the only one suffering. Binns' dry, lifeless voice lulled the entire class into a half-asleep daze, like a malfunctioning vacuum cleaner. 

Occasionally, someone would wake up just long enough to jot down a name or date, then immediately drift back into the blissful state of semi-consciousness.

Cho's head bobbed up and down like a pecking chicken, completely out of it. Anyone looking at her might think she was deeply engaged in Binns' lecture, nodding along in agreement. 

Boba tea, had been watching her intently and decided to swipe her face with a paw, leaving a dark smudge. She didn't even flinch.

Boba tea then flicked its fluffy tail at her, knocking her History of Magic textbook off the table. It had been propping up her chest to prevent her from faceplanting onto the desk. Without the book for support, her head dropped straight onto the table with a thud.

The poor little white rabbit, which had been sitting on the desk nibbling on a carrot, was sent flying. With a look of utter despair, it fainted once again.

Even the Slytherins, who had planned to avenge their head of house, Snape, couldn't muster the energy. They were simply too sleepy.

There's a ghost in here, the plan is canceled. Sleep now!

If there was one class everyone looked forward to, it was Defense Against the Dark Arts, especially on Tuesday mornings. The subject itself was exciting enough, but the additional mystery surrounding the annual turnover of professors made it even more thrilling!

When everyone arrived for Professor Tywin's first Defense Against the Dark Arts class, he wasn't there yet. They took their seats, pulled out their books, quills, and parchment, and waited while chatting among themselves.

When Tywin finally entered, his timing was impeccable. Dressed in a perfectly tailored robe, his golden hair neatly styled, he was the complete opposite of Snape.

With a warm smile, he carried no textbooks, just a sleek black ebony wand. 

The classroom quieted down quickly, though the soft squeaking of chairs persisted—courtesy of the Slytherins, who seemed intent on causing minor disruptions. Tywin didn't bother stopping them.

William noticed the noise immediately and recognized the culprits as Slytherin students.

In fact, Ravenclaw and Slytherin had more overlapping classes together than the other houses did. The school often paired houses with compatible temperaments: eagles and snakes, badgers and lions.

But this year had taken a slight twist. After William had humiliated their beloved head of house, the Slytherins seemed determined to get even.

Their passive-aggressive noise was one such tactic. It wasn't much of a nuisance—just petty, annoying behavior.

"Good morning, everyone," Professor Tywin greeted warmly. "I'm glad to see you all with your textbooks—The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection."

"A classic," he continued, "used here at Hogwarts for well over a hundred years, maybe even a hundred and fifty. I'm not sure of the exact number. But I do know the author, Professor Quentin Trimble—his portrait has hung in the headmaster's office for over a century."

"The fact that this textbook has been used for so long speaks to its timeless value. Of course, Professor Trimble himself might disagree now."

"Let's open to the inside cover, where you'll find a lovely line of calligraphy: Practical experience always outweighs theory."

"This means we'll have very few theory classes—most of what we do will be hands-on, practical learning."

"As Professor Snape said yesterday, 'I won't teach too much theory, nor stick rigidly to textbooks. That's for you to study and master on your own.'"

At this, Tywin gave a light chuckle.

"I know, I know—after Snape said that yesterday, he ended up in the hospital wing. So, I'll be extra careful not to follow in his footsteps."

"And I have to commend Mr. Stark here for handling the situation so well. A true Ravenclaw through and through."

William remained stone-faced. Tywin had just painted another target on his back, drawing the ire of every Slytherin in the room.

Tywin stepped down from the podium, his voice growing louder. "As we all know, Defense Against the Dark Arts is about learning how to combat dark curses and dangerous magical creatures."

"Now, can anyone name a dark creature or a source of dark magic in the wizarding world? Miss Cho Chang, why don't you start?"

Cho stood up and, after a moment of thought, answered, "Vampires."

"Exactly. Vampires—a terrifying magical species originating from the Balkan Peninsula. I've had the misfortune of encountering a few during my travels. They're difficult to deal with."

"Muggles might use garlic or holy water to fend them off, but trust me, it doesn't work."

"These days, romance literature has painted vampires as handsome, immortal beings, and many witches have begun romanticizing them to cater to that audience."

"This, I assure you, is a mistake," Tywin said with a wink at Cho. "Never try to date a vampire."

Cho's face flushed red.

For some reason, William thought of Cedric. He was pretty sure Cedric wouldn't be a fan of Professor Tywin—and might even be tempted to become a vampire just to bite him.

"Professor, will you teach us how to defend ourselves against vampires?" asked a bold Slytherin girl, her voice tinged with excitement.

The girl was slightly plump and freckled, but it was her voice that captivated everyone—it sounded just like that of the legendary witch, Morgana Le Fay.

 From the way she looked at Tywin, William suspected she wasn't just interested in defending against vampires—she wanted to "tame" Tywin himself.

Tywin chuckled. "Of course, if I manage to stay around until your third year, I'll teach you personally, Miss Crouch."

The whole class burst into laughter, as the Defense Against the Dark Arts curse was well-known.

"And, five points to Ravenclaw."

Tywin made no effort to hide his bias toward Ravenclaw, the house from which he had graduated over a decade ago.

His favoritism wasn't lost on William, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could enjoy it before the Slytherins decided to strike back.

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