“So professors at Hogwarts don’t get sorted into houses?” Thorne asked with mild disappointment as he followed Dumbledore and Snape deeper into the castle.
The corridors were deep and ancient.
Moving portraits lined the walls, and every so often a suit of armor shifted position with a faint metallic clank.
To Thorne, almost every figure in those portraits was a bug.
Expressive faces, different poses—yet the entire wall looked like a living display case of insect specimens all chatting with each other.
The armor, at least, still roughly kept a human shape.
That gave him some small comfort.
A bat and a bee walked ahead of him, murmuring to each other.
Thorne wasn’t paying attention to their conversation.
He was far more interested in Hogwarts Castle itself.
[Current Special Environment: Hogwarts Castle (1.9%)] The system notification popped up and he instinctively glanced around.
He had already walked through the entrance hall and the Great Hall and was now inside the tower, yet the exploration progress was only 1.9%?
Thorne clicked his tongue in his mind.
This castle was ridiculously huge.
A staircase appeared ahead.
He glanced at the two “bugs” walking in front of him and felt a flicker of confusion.
They could fly.
Why weren’t they just flying up?
The thought had barely formed before he crushed it.
Right.
I’m the crazy one.
Everyone else is normal.
My bad…
Snape suddenly turned his head with clear distaste and looked at Thorne, then lowered his voice toward Dumbledore.
“Are you sure he’s actually qualified to be a professor?” “He looks like he knows less about magic than a first-year troll—or even a new student.” Dumbledore only smiled faintly as they stepped onto the spiraling staircase.
“Severus, relax.” “The magic in this world is vast.
Mr.
Thorne possesses a type of magic we’ve never encountered before.” His tone was light.
“And I’m not completely unprepared.” “There will be an interview later.
Minerva will handle it.” “You’re welcome to sit in if you’d like.” Snape was quiet for a moment.
“…Fine.” “I don’t want a future colleague who’s completely incompetent either.” “Don’t say it like that.” Dumbledore added with a chuckle, “I think Thorne rather likes you.” He paused, voice turning teasing.
“Mammal Mister.” Snape had just started to glare when a dull thud sounded behind them.
Both men turned at the same time.
Thorne was stuck to the wall in an extremely strange posture, hands gripping the stone, body almost horizontal.
Then he kicked off hard and launched himself upward.
One jump.
Two.
Three.
The movements were clean and efficient, no wasted motion.
In seconds he had flipped himself up onto the second-floor corridor.
Dumbledore and Snape both stared.
“Damn it…” Thorne muttered under his breath.
“They took my mantis claws away, so now I have to climb with raw physical ability.
This is—” He caught his breath and made a mental note.
He needed to figure out how to make another pair later.
When he looked up, he found the bee and the bat staring straight at him.
Snape’s furry ears were standing straight up, almost shiny in the dim castle light.
Thorne shrugged, trying to play it off.
“Uh… your stairs are a little dishonest.” Dumbledore smiled, voice mild.
“Yes, well.
This is a magic school, after all.” Snape wasn’t listening to either of them.
His eyes were locked on the hand Thorne had used to climb.
A faint white glow had flashed across the palm and vanished.
The small scrapes on the skin were already healing at a visible rate.
“…This…” Snape muttered to himself.
“Wandless magic?
Or something else?” He looked up at Thorne, and for the first time his gaze was genuinely serious.
Then he turned to Dumbledore.
“I’m going to put these ingredients away first.” “I’ll be there soon.” Before anyone could answer, he turned and left, black robes disappearing around the corner.
Thorne watched the big bat’s retreating back with genuine regret in his voice.
“Ugh… when Professor Snape leaves, the whole castle feels a little darker.” “His head was even reflecting light.” The words had barely left his mouth before he noticed the old bee beside him subtly squinting his compound eyes in what looked suspiciously like amusement.
“Uh, what?” “Nothing.” Dumbledore’s tone was light.
“Just a reminder—best not to say things like that in front of Severus.” He paused, then added, “Besides, you’ll be seeing him again very soon.” “We still have an interview to get through.” “Interview?!” Thorne’s face changed instantly.
“But I don’t even have a résumé!” Dumbledore reached into his red robes and calmly pulled out a sheet of parchment, still smiling kindly.
“That’s all right.” “We can just make one up.” — “Name: Eric Thorne.” “Gender: Male (crossed out).” Ugh.
He’d spent too long in the insect world.
“Age: 22” “Education: University of London, Department of Genetics, Evolution and Environment — Medical Entomology.” Well.
At least the major was on-brand.
“Mental Health History: …In short, a cognitive disorder in which the patient perceives all humans as insects.” “Research Focus: Soul Magic” “Work Experience: Intern Researcher at the Soul Sanctuary” Thorne hesitated when he reached the last line.
There really wasn’t much he could put here.
If Dumbledore hadn’t insisted—and if he hadn’t actually done real work in Hallownest—he wouldn’t have included it at all.
The résumé was finally finished.
Thorne handed the parchment over and let out a quiet breath of relief.
Then he looked up and began studying the interview panel across from him.
In the center sat the old bee, Dumbledore.
No explanation needed.
To his right was a very serious-looking mosquito lady in dark green robes and thin-framed glasses.
She was reading Thorne’s résumé line by line with complete focus, not even her eyebrows twitching.
Next to her was the bat—Snape.
He kept glancing up at Thorne with an assessing look.
The earlier open contempt was completely gone.
Thorne wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t complaining.
On the other side sat a massive earthworm.
She carried a faint scent of soil and spoke in a warm voice that made her seem very approachable.
But the one who truly made Thorne’s mood skyrocket was the last person.
A human.
An actual, genuine human being.
A kind-faced man who only came up to Thorne’s knee.
It was enough to make Thorne want to cry on the spot.
When he’d first seen the man earlier, he’d almost rushed over and kissed him right there in the middle of the interview.
Right now, Thorne was staring at that human with a huge, unrestrained smile on his face.
He had zero defense against the first real human he’d seen since arriving in this world.
“Buzz buzz buzz, Mr.
Thorne.” “…” “Buzz!
Buzz!
Buzz!
Mr.
Thorne!” “Huh?!
S-sorry!” Thorne snapped back to attention and quickly wiped his mouth.
Great.
He really had been drooling.
He sat up straight and looked at the mosquito lady who had been calling him.
She adjusted her glasses.
The small eyes behind the lenses were staring at him with clear disapproval.
“According to your résumé,” she said in a calm, professional tone, “you conducted research at this so-called ‘Soul Sanctuary.’ I’d like to know—what exactly was the focus of your research there?”