"This is humiliating. In the end, even those walking stomachs from Hufflepuff showed up—how long are Crabbe and Goyle planning to sleep?!"
Draco Malfoy stomped irritably down the corridor after class, occasionally kicking the wall and leaving behind dusty footprints.
"That pint-sized professor is clearly biased. Loads more Hufflepuffs were late than us, but he only took points off for those who skipped entirely. He's just jealous Slytherin's won the House Cup six years in a row!"
He glanced to the side. "Don't you think so, Lycos?"
No response.
Draco turned, confused, only to find Lycos Hayden absorbed in Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, reading intently as if Draco hadn't said a word.
"Lycos, are you even listening to me?" he asked, voice raised in frustration.
"Huh?" Lycos looked up, blinking. "Oh, yeah. Totally. I heard you. Right."
After the most half-hearted acknowledgment imaginable, Lycos promptly returned his focus to the book.
During Charms class earlier, he had skimmed most of the textbook and noted several beginner-level spells. It turned out the incantations were just as he remembered.
So why couldn't he cast them?
He now suspected it wasn't just about saying the words—you also needed proper wand movement and some sort of magical response. Magic, it seemed, was more nuanced than his prior muscle memory of the Killing Curse could account for…
Just then, a brown-haired boy approached.
"Draco, where are your two blob-shaped bodyguards today?" he asked, slinging a satchel over one shoulder, his other hand tucked into his pocket. With a nod at Lycos, he added, "And didn't you say last night you were going to 'teach Hayden a lesson'? You two look pretty cozy now."
"Don't talk nonsense! When did I ever say that about Lycos?!" Draco stiffened, glancing nervously toward Lycos.
Seeing that Lycos hadn't reacted at all, he exhaled in relief and whispered back, "Theo, Lycos and I got off to a rough start, but now we're mates."
"Got off to a rough start? With who?" Lycos said coolly from the side, his tone laced with amusement.
Draco turned around to find Lycos looking at him with a slight smirk.
"N-no, I didn't mean that, boss! I didn't say a thing!" Draco snapped to attention, his back going ramrod straight, his face going even paler. "Please, carry on reading—I wouldn't dream of interrupting you."
He leaned in and added under his breath, "Boss, cut me some slack in public, will you?"
Lycos chuckled softly and shook his head, eyes still on his spellbook.
Draco turned to the brown-haired boy—Theodore Nott, stunned silent by the exchange—and quickly changed the subject.
"Anyway, Theo, didn't you ask where Crabbe and Goyle were?"
Expertly, he redirected blame.
"Those two louts are probably still snoring away in bed. Absolute disgrace to Slytherin. I'm going to have words with them when we get back."
---
After a leisurely lunch in the Great Hall, Lycos and his group made their way back to the Slytherin dormitory.
As expected, Crabbe and Goyle were still fast asleep—sprawled in awkward poses, drooling onto their pillows, and snoring like trolls. Their blankets lay kicked onto the floor.
Draco's fury ignited instantly. He stormed over and leapt onto one of them, repeatedly slapping the pudgy stomach like it was a misbehaving cauldron.
"Still sleeping?! Still sleeping?!"
"Slytherin lost five points because of you two—do you even care?! If we don't win the House Cup, are you going to answer for that?!"
"You know how many times I got stuck in stair traps because you weren't there to go first?!"
After a good bout of belly-smacking, the two groggy boys finally stirred and sat up, staring blankly at the red-faced Draco, unsure whether he was angry or out of breath.
"Draco… is it time for Charms class already?" Goyle asked sleepily.
"Shouldn't we get breakfast first?" Crabbe added.
Draco: "…"
He launched himself back onto them.
"Charms class?! Breakfast?! I'll show you Charms class!"
---
After a short break, the Slytherin first-years had to make their way to Classroom 04F on the second floor for History of Magic, shared with Ravenclaw.
This time, Draco was determined not to repeat his earlier mistake. He woke Crabbe and Goyle half an hour early—again—and dragged them along.
He made sure to shove them ahead on the stairs, using them as live bait for trap steps.
Unfortunately, the History classroom was closer than Charms and used mostly familiar paths. Even worse, Lycos had his trap-stair notes handy and gave advance warnings for every danger, meaning Crabbe and Goyle didn't fall once.
Such wasted potential, Draco thought bitterly.
Dong… dong…
The castle's bell tower rang out the start of class. Every student was in their seat in the classroom.
"…Weird," Draco muttered. "Where's the professor? Don't tell me we showed up early for nothing?"
"Don't worry. He'll be here," Lycos said, staring at the A History of Magic textbook on his desk with a sigh.
He wasn't sure he could survive Hogwarts' most famously boring class…
And then, just as the last chime faded, a pearly-white ghost drifted out from the wall behind the blackboard.
He was small, shriveled, and wore tiny round glasses. He clutched a tattered, translucent book and floated stiffly toward the front.
"I am Professor Cuthbert Binns, your History of Magic teacher. Today's topic is…"
Without another word, the ghost began droning in a dry, scratchy voice.
The students were stunned. First, their professor was a ghost—and second, he made an already dry subject sound even duller than imaginable.
Five minutes in, Lycos felt like he was listening to a malfunctioning vacuum cleaner.
To distract himself, he leaned toward Draco and whispered:
"Legend has it, Professor Binns taught here until he was very old. One night, he fell asleep in front of the staff-room fireplace. Next morning, he got up to teach—but forgot to bring his body with him."
"He's been teaching as a ghost ever since. Might never retire."
"Is that in Hogwarts: A History?" Draco asked curiously.
"Er…" Lycos hesitated. That tidbit probably wasn't in any official history text.
"…Maybe," he said vaguely.