By the time the Sorting Ceremony finally ended, the candle beneath Calcifer had nearly burned down to its base.
The little fire demon yawned, his flames flickering listlessly as he whispered to Hermes.
“I’m about to fall asleep.”
“It will be over soon.”
Although Hermes found the ceremony equally tedious, leaving early would have been exceedingly impolite.
Beside him, Professor Flitwick smiled.
“The Sorting Ceremony is one of Hogwarts’ oldest traditions.
Once Professor Dumbledore finishes his speech, the welcoming feast will begin.”
As though responding to Calcifer’s impatient prayers, Dumbledore finally rose from his seat.
The noise in the Great Hall gradually faded.
“Welcome to a new school year.”
Standing before the staff table, Dumbledore smiled warmly at the students.
His voice was not particularly loud, yet it carried effortlessly throughout the enormous hall, reaching every student’s ears with perfect clarity.
“Before the feast begins, allow me to announce several changes to our teaching staff.”
His gaze turned toward the pale wizard wearing a purple turban.
“First, Professor Quirrell will teach Defense Against the Dark Arts to students from the first through fourth years.”
Under everyone’s gaze, Quirrell timidly rose from his chair and gave a nervous nod.
“G-Good evening.”
As he moved, the overpowering odor of garlic surrounding him spread across the staff table.
Even though Hermes had deliberately chosen a seat as far away from Quirrell as possible, the smell still reached him.
His expression changed slightly.
That was an impressive amount of garlic.
“As for our fifth-, sixth-, and seventh-year students…”
Dumbledore’s gaze shifted toward Hermes.
Warm candlelight gleamed across his half-moon spectacles.
“Their Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons will be taught by Professor Moriarty.”
For one brief moment, the Great Hall fell completely silent.
Then it erupted.
“He looks like a student!”
“Can someone that young really be a professor?”
“He only graduated this summer, didn’t he?”
“I’ll have to ask my father to raise the matter with the Board of Governors.”
The younger students were mostly curious, but the fifth-, sixth-, and seventh-years reacted with immediate alarm.
That was hardly surprising.
Their new professor appeared barely older than they were.
The fifth-years were preparing for their Ordinary Wizarding Levels, examinations that would determine which subjects they could continue studying and significantly influence their future careers.
The sixth- and seventh-years had already entered advanced study.
Their courses were preparing them for the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests, and every subject they selected was closely connected to the professions they hoped to pursue after graduation.
At such a critical point in their education, Hogwarts had assigned them a professor who looked like one of their peers.
Amid the rising clamor, Hermes remained perfectly composed.
A faint, courteous smile rested upon his face as he rose and waved to the students below.
Perched upon the candlestick, Calcifer observed the uproar with barely restrained amusement.
Go ahead and complain.
Your good days are just beginning.
Once Hermes had returned to his seat, Dumbledore raised one hand.
The conversations gradually subsided.
“The feast may begin.”
The instant he finished speaking, the empty golden plates covering the four House tables filled with food.
Platters of roast beef, chicken, sausages, lamb chops, potatoes, vegetables, and fresh bread appeared one after another.
Pitchers overflowed with pumpkin juice, while fragrant steam rose toward the enchanted ceiling.
Cheers erupted throughout the Great Hall.
At the Gryffindor table, Ron immediately seized a chicken leg and took an enormous bite.
Grease soon covered his fingers and the corners of his mouth.
“Harry,” he asked between bites, “do you know that professor?”
He had noticed Harry’s distraction from the moment they entered the hall.
When the older students began questioning the young professor’s qualifications, the concern on Harry’s face had become impossible to hide.
“Mm.”
Harry nodded.
“Uncle Hermes is a very good person.”
Suppressing his lingering concern, a small smile appeared on Harry’s face.
“I’m sure he’ll be an excellent professor too.”
His only regret was that Hermes would not be teaching his year.
“He is called Hermes Moriarty.”
A confident voice suddenly came from across the table.
Before Harry or Ron could respond, Hermione continued at a rapid pace, the words pouring from her mouth like a string of exploding firecrackers.
“He’s from Norway and graduated from Durmstrang Institute.
I read several reports about him before coming here.
While he was still a student, he supposedly developed hundreds of original spells and made significant advances in several branches of magic.”
She glanced toward the staff table, unable to conceal her excitement.
“I never imagined he would come to Hogwarts, much less become one of our professors.
He only graduated this summer.”
Harry blinked and looked toward the staff table again.
He already knew which school Hermes had attended.
His graduation certificate had been displayed in a cabinet in the lobby of the Moving Castle.
Beside him, Ron rolled his eyes.
He leaned closer to Harry and whispered, “There’s definitely something wrong with her brain.”
After a moment, he added indignantly, “We weren’t even talking to her.”
That night, news that Hermes Moriarty had become Hogwarts’ new upper-year Defense Against the Dark Arts professor spread beyond the castle.
By the following morning, his name had already attracted attention throughout the British wizarding world.
What they uncovered was far from reassuring.
The next morning, Hermes entered the classroom carrying a thick stack of parchment.
The previously noisy room fell silent at once.
He walked to the front and casually placed the parchment on the lectern.
The sound was soft.
Yet nearly every student stared at the stack with an inexplicable sense of dread.
This was a joint sixth-year class for Gryffindor and Slytherin.
Following an old and unspoken tradition, the students from the two Houses had seated themselves on opposite sides of the classroom.
The empty space between them resembled a clearly drawn border neither group had any intention of crossing.
Most of the Gryffindors looked openly unconvinced.
The Slytherins, by contrast, appeared somewhat more restrained.
Even if they doubted their new professor, they had been raised to conceal such thoughts until they understood the situation.
Morning sunlight streamed through the windows and fell across Hermes’s slender figure.
His face looked only a few years older than those of the students before him.
Several girls could not resist stealing additional glances in his direction.
Hermes ignored their whispers.
He leaned casually against the edge of the lectern and swept his gaze across the classroom.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
His fingertip struck the wooden surface at a steady rhythm.
The sound echoed through the unnatural silence.
For some reason, the tapping seemed to synchronize with the students’ heartbeats.
An inexplicable tension spread through the room, tightening around them with every measured beat.
At the same time, they recalled the rumors that had circulated throughout Hogwarts the previous night.
Hermes Moriarty.
Their new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
A graduate of Durmstrang Institute, the school notorious for openly teaching the Dark Arts and placing strength above nearly everything else.
The Prince of Dark Arts.
The greatest magical genius of the century.
One terrifying title after another flashed through their minds.
As Hermes’s gaze passed over them, the students unconsciously straightened their backs.
Those who had loudly questioned his qualifications the previous evening now avoided meeting his eyes.
After all, what if the rumors were true?
What if this young professor took offense and responded with a Killing Curse?
The tapping stopped.
A moment later, Hermes nodded in satisfaction.
His voice was gentle and calm, yet it carried an authority that allowed no argument.
“Very good.
No one is late.”
Happy Reading!!!