0222 First Class

Words : 1766 Updated : Sep 25th, 2025

When Harry handed the schedule back to Hermione, he asked curiously, "How are you going to manage attending three classes at the same time?" At this point, Ron also leaned over, his freckled face creased with confusion as he noticed the anomaly in Hermione's schedule. He chewed on his sausage with usual lack of delicacy and said unclearly, "Mmm, ten classes a day, that's quite something, Hermione. Does your day have forty-eight hours? Or have you discovered some secret to bending time?" "Mind your own business." Faced with Ron's sarcasm, Hermione rolled her eyes at him with exasperation and tucked the schedule into her robes. "I have my ways. Professor McGonagall has arranged everything." Her voice carried a note of mysterious confidence that only deepened the boys' curiosity. Seeing that Hermione was unwilling to say more, Harry stopped asking. He had learned to recognize when his friend had made up her mind about something. He felt that even if Hermione didn't attend classes, her grades wouldn't suffer just from self-study. Her natural brilliance and appetite for knowledge would carry her through any academic challenge. On the other hand, Ron kept pestering Hermione with questions, looking determined to get an answer from her. Finally, Hermione forcefully stuffed a sausage into Ron's mouth effectively silencing his interrogation and temporarily ending the little drama that had been unfolding at the Gryffindor table. Soon, it was nine o'clock. Harry and his two friends went punctually to Sybill Trelawney's Divination class climbing the stairs to the North Tower. On the way, Ron casually teased Hermione, "So you're coming to Divination with us? What about your Muggle Studies and Arithmancy? Are you having two other Hermione Grangers attend those while you're here with us?" "Don't worry about it so much, Ron," Hermione said with slight annoyance, her hair bouncing as she shook her head in frustration. "Oh, fine." Ron stopped asking for trouble, recognizing the warning tone in her voice. In fact, he had actually guessed correctly, because with the help of the Time-Turner, there really were three Hermiones attending classes simultaneously across the castle. However, the Time-Turner was a classified item of incredible power and danger, and according to strict Ministry regulations, Hermione couldn't let anyone else know about the device's existence. After Divination class ended, the three walked down the corridor complaining nonstop, as they descended from the stuffy atmosphere of the North Tower. This class was nothing like what they had imagined it would be—not only was Professor Trelawney eccentric, with her enormous glasses magnifying her eyes to beetle-like sizes and her countless shawls creating a moth-like silhouette, but the course content was also incomprehensible. The classroom had been thick with perfumed smoke, making it difficult to breathe, and filled with random objects that supposedly held mystical significance. Harry really didn't understand what significance there was in studying tea leaves, especially when the tea tasted terrible—bitter and stale, as if it had been sitting in the cups for days. The whole experience had left him feeling dizzy and skeptical. "I somewhat regret choosing this course. It's going to waste a lot of my energy," Hermione said with a weary sigh. "Harry, what prophecy did Professor Trelawney make for you just now? I didn't listen carefully." Her attention had been divided between the lesson and the anxiety of knowing she had two other classes to attend. "She said I would die horribly," Harry shrugged with nonchalance, though a small part of him couldn't help but feel unsettled by the dramatic statement. "She also said I would encounter the Grim, a black dog. Something about shadows and omens following me." "Was she right?" Ron asked casually, obviously not taking the prophecy seriously. His tone said he found the whole thing rather ridiculous. Because that Professor Trelawney looked completely unreliable. "I think she's crazy," Harry shook his head, saying with some regret, "I asked Professor Westeros about it before, and he didn't recommend I take Divination. Now it seems he was right. I should have listened to his advice." Hermione nodded in agreement, her expression reflecting Harry's disappointment. The class had been a waste of precious time that could have been spent on more practical magical studies. Harry completely didn't believe what Trelawney had said to him, and dismissed her dramatic predictions as nonsense. He had never seen a black dog anywhere, not in Little Whinging, not at Hogwarts, nowhere. In the wizarding world, ordinary dogs were rare animals, and black dogs were even rarer among the rare. Wizards preferred practical pets like owls and toads, creatures that could serve useful purposes rather than just companionship. In the afternoon, the first Care of Magical Creatures class of the term. In the clearing not far from the Forbidden Forest, Adrian led more than a dozen Thestrals to the students. He had brought yesterday's Thestrals to work overtime, using them as content for the third-year students' first lesson. The creatures seemed content enough, their dragon-like heads turning curiously toward the approaching students. "Well, these are the magical creatures we'll be studying today," He said with enthusiasm, pointing at what appeared to most students to be empty air. The students looked at each other in confusion, seeing great puzzlement reflected in each other's eyes. They exchanged worried glances, wondering if this was some sort of test or if their professor had perhaps gone mad because of teaching DADA during those final days of last year. Only students who had witnessed death could see Thestrals which was a fact that created an invisible divide among the class. Except for a scattered few, most students couldn't see anything at all—just their professor gesturing at empty space like a performer in some surreal theatrical production. However, Harry could naturally see them. He recognized these peculiar creatures—it was they who had pulled the carriages that brought him to school yesterday. "These are Thestrals, a type of winged horse," Adrian began explaining to the students. "Now for the first question of this year—who can tell me the common types of winged horses?" Hermione immediately raised her hand with eagerness. "Well then... Hermione," Adrian called reluctantly. In fact, he didn't really want Hermione to answer questions, because Hermione had earned far more points from him than other students combined. Unfortunately, it seemed no one else knew this information besides Hermione, their faces were blank with uncertainty. This was also normal, as the answer to this question didn't appear in their standard textbooks, it required additional research and perhaps curiosity about magical creatures. Hermione immediately stood up to answer with precision: "Abraxans, Aethonans, Granians, and Thestrals. A major characteristic of winged horses is that they all have wings and possess the ability to fly, though each species has distinct properties and temperaments." "Oh, very good," Adrian clapped his hands in satisfaction. "Five points to Gryffindor." Hermione immediately held her head high, her hair catching the afternoon sunlight as pride radiated from her face. The feeling of earning points was still so wonderful. But Adrian keenly noticed that Hermione seemed to be in a somewhat unusual state—there appeared to be a hint of fatigue in her brown eyes, dark circles. "Professor!" At this moment, a voice suddenly emerged from the crowd, "We can't see anything." Adrian smiled and looked toward where the voice came from—it was Draco Malfoy who had raised the question. "Don't be impatient, Mr. Malfoy," Adrian then looked at everyone with patient understanding. "Are there any among you who can see the Thestrals?" Harry, Neville, and a thin Slytherin student raised their hands hesitantly. Adrian nodded with gentle understanding and explained to everyone, "You must have personally witnessed human death—only those who have seen death can see the form of Thestrals. It is not a gift to be envied." Upon hearing this, Neville shuddered visibly, his face paling as he looked frightened. Whether his fear stemmed from the Thestrals before him or from the memories Adrian's words had stirred was unclear, but his hands trembled at his sides. "Then how are we supposed to study these creatures?" Draco pressed, his voice carrying the sulky tone. "I mean... we can't see them, can we? Do we need to find a way to witness death?" "Of course not. Death is a very heavy thing," Adrian said firmly, his expression growing serious at the suggestion. Adrian smiled, then threw out a small object from his pocket, "I've prepared realistic statues that will allow you to understand the true appearance of Thestrals." As soon as he finished speaking, the object rapidly enlarged through Transfiguration, becoming a lifelike Thestral—with a dragon-like head topped by white, pupilless eyes, bat-like wings that stretched wide and leathery, pitch-black all over, and with almost no flesh on its body. Even its skeletal structure was visible beneath the stiff skin, creating an appearance that was both magnificent and deeply unsettling. Unfortunately, this Thestral created through Transfiguration could only stand there stupidly, frozen in place like a chilling sculpture. Forget about flying—it couldn't even take two steps or recognize the students' presence. Honestly, the appearance of Thestrals was quite terrifying and fearsome, especially for these students who had never encountered such creatures. Several gasped, and a few took instinctive steps backward. "I don't want everyone to be afraid of them just because of their terrifying appearance," Adrian said gently, stroking the real Thestral beside him with obvious affection. His hand moved along the creature's skeletal neck with familiarity. "They are actually very gentle animals, and very loyal too. They can judge whether someone is friend or foe with remarkable accuracy." The Thestral nearby nuzzled against Adrian affectionately, its head pressing against his shoulder with trust and contentment. However, most people could only see Adrian's hand stroking something invisible, his movements appearing strange and disconnected, like a mime performer practicing his craft in an empty theater. The Thestrals within Hogwarts had been well-trained over many years; unless they were really pushed to their limit or genuinely threatened, they wouldn't attack other people or animals. This was also why Adrian felt comfortable letting students interact with them, knowing their gentle nature despite their fearsome appearance. "So... who wants to come and pet them?" Adrian looked at the crowd and smiled as he called out someone's name with encouraging warmth: "Mr. Longbottom, come and try. You can see them." ________________ You can read more chapters on: /IamLuis

0222 First Class

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