Chapter 326: Hermione: Maybe It's a Deity?
Before Professor McGonagall’s office, Wade and Hermione had already fastened their Time-Turners around their necks and tucked them beneath their school robes, careful not to be seen. Walking side by side down the empty corridor, their hearts pounded with excitement—so much so that neither could bring themselves to speak. As they walked, Hermione suddenly bounced up and down twice.
“Time!” she exclaimed, eyes shining. “Wade, this is a Time-Turner! It’s absolutely incredible! I can’t believe I once asked Percy how to possibly finish the Twelve Doors course, and he said he couldn’t tell me. But now I’ll know—I’ll know!”
“Mm,” Wade replied, running a hand over the Time-Turner’s shape through his clothing, lost in thought. “I wonder… who was it that first tamed the power of time? Whoever they were… they must’ve been something extraordinary.”
Even as a wizard, Hermione admitted, “I still can’t help but think… maybe it’s divine.”
She paused, frowning slightly. “I’ve never seen anything in books about magic tied to time.”
Wade said, “Professor Mor once lent me a book. It said the Time-Turner itself has no special abilities—what allows time travel is a spell called the Time Reversal Spell.”
Hermione perked up instantly. “Time Reversal Spell?”
“Unfortunately,” Wade shook his head, “the spell never survived. No one even knows if it ever truly existed.”
He let the thought fade, then added, “But… don’t you think the Restoration Spell kind of feels like a reversal of time?”
Hermione fell into thoughtful silence.
As they spoke, they unconsciously slowed their pace. By the time Professor McGonagall hurried out of her office, she found the two standing like statues at the entrance to the Great Hall.
“What are the two of you doing standing here?” her voice came from behind them.
Hermione jumped, nearly leaping into the air. Wade turned. “We wanted to wait until the Sorting Ceremony ended before going in, Professor.”
Professor McGonagall gave a small, approving smile. “Actually, the ceremony should’ve finished by now. Come with me.”
The witch pushed open the Great Hall’s massive doors. Students turned to look. Professor McGonagall strode calmly toward the staff table, while Wade and Hermione made their way back to their respective houses.
“Hey, what did Professor McGonagall want?” Ron asked, curious.
“Uh… just some new term schedules,” Hermione said vaguely. “You know I’m taking the Twelve Doors course.”
Percy, sitting at the front of the Gryffindor Long Table, glanced back and gave Hermione a subtle nod, sharing a quiet, knowing smile.
Michael had reserved a convenient spot at the very end of the Ravenclaw Long Table—perfect for Wade’s return. But when Wade arrived, Michael was already busy demonstrating a leaf umbrella to a few girls, barely glancing up. Still, in the middle of his distracted work, he managed to shoot Wade a quick, meaningful look.
Wade glanced toward the staff table. The people seated there hadn’t changed much from the end of last term. Professor Abigail still sat beside Professor Snape, her expression half-amused, half-sardonic. Snape, as ever, looked like he’d just swallowed a lemon.
Near the edge of the table sat a large figure—Hagrid, dressed far more neatly than usual, though his hair and beard remained as wild as ever.
Dumbledore stood up to speak.
“Welcome!” he beamed. “Welcome to Hogwarts! I hope our new year will be as rich and vibrant as ever!”
The students erupted in laughter. The Weasley Twins shouted from the back, “Professor! Is there a challenge in September too? What strange beast are we supposed to beat this time?”
“Oh,” Dumbledore chuckled, “the old friends in the Forbidden Forest might not be too keen on getting punched. But speaking of beasts—once, I encountered a mutated meat-eating slug in the woods. It swallowed my friend Sien whole. When we finally pulled him out… well, let’s just say he was covered in—”
“Cough, cough!” Professor McGonagall suddenly cut in with two sharp, staccato coughs.
Dumbledore’s nostalgic tone halted mid-sentence. He paused, cleared his throat, then continued, “Well… perhaps we should leave appetite-related stories for another time. This year, I’m delighted to welcome a new addition to our teaching staff—”
“Rubeus Hagrid!”
Hagrid’s face turned bright red. He stood up awkwardly, waving at the crowd. Everyone’s eyes followed him.
Dumbledore smiled warmly. “Professor Kettleburn has retired, so he can spend more time with his remaining little rascals. Hagrid will take over his role—serving as both Gamekeeper and Professor of Care of Magical Creatures!”
A few seconds passed. Then, thunderous applause erupted from the Gryffindor Long Table. After a hesitant pause, the other houses slowly joined in.
Hagrid smiled nervously, shifting uncomfortably in his seat before finally sitting down under Professor McGonagall’s gentle warning glance.
Even seated, he towered over her. And over Professor Flitwick—whose tiny stature, enhanced by his fairy blood, made him look like a child’s toy next to Hagrid.
“Dumbledore’s getting more and more mad,” Draco Malfoy sneered. “Letting a servant teach us? I’d rather be at Durmstrang.”
The Slytherins murmured their agreement.
Ever since Malfoy had nearly killed Crabbe last term, the other students had kept their distance, wary and cautious. But after a while, they’d returned—now even more respectful than before. Not just because of his family’s wealth, but because of him. His presence now carried authority.
“I’ve signed up for Care of Magical Creatures,” Michael said, his face pale. “Wade, I know you’re close to Hagrid… so this Hagrid Professor—apart from being tall—can’t actually hit students, right?”
He glanced nervously at Professor Abigail on the staff table.
Wade laughed. “You were at the Maze Challenge, remember? Hagrid was a referee multiple times. You know how kind he is.”
“Being a Gamekeeper’s kind isn’t the same as being a Professor’s kind,” Michael insisted. “And your applause… it was a bit half-hearted. If you’re truly happy he’s our professor, you shouldn’t act like that.”
Wade sighed, smiling. “Hagrid’s like a Fire Dragon.”
Michael frowned. “Who doesn’t like a Fire Dragon?—as long as they’re not attacking me.”
Wade chuckled. “Even if a Fire Dragon attacked Hagrid, he’d just think it’s a sweet, little creature—adorable and fascinating. That’s the difference between you and him.”
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
