Chapter 13: The First Class
The feast had ended, and it was almost nightfall.
The castle didn't quiet down immediately.
After two months away, the students were back at school and in high spirits. They were restless on their way back to the common rooms. The boys gathered in groups to laugh and play; the girls huddled together, chatting excitedly about the fun they'd had over the holidays.
Ghosts drifted through the walls, from one suit of armor to another. They didn't really mind it wasn't as if they could feel anything but the laughter and shouts of the young wizards filled them with energy.
Professor McGonagall had to call out twice before the students finally calmed down a little.
Melvin wasn't in the mood for company and returned to his room early. The castle's walls were well soundproofed; as soon as he shut the door, the noise faded away.
He washed up in the bathroom, changed into summer pajamas, slipped on slippers, and sat behind his desk.
Opening an envelope he had just received, he began to read silently.
It was a letter from the Magical Examination Authority, written by Madam Marchbank. It was quite long, but well organized and neatly detailed, filling five pages of parchment. The first four pages were packed with scientific questions:
Does the universe have limits?
Can a damaged atmosphere be repaired with magic?
Why aren't whales fish? Why aren't bats birds?
Some of the questions were Madam Marchbank's own, while others were contributed by the Authority. It seemed the "encyclopedia fever" was still going strong.
The final two pages contained the main message:
> "...Additionally, please remember to record the contents of your course, organize and summarize them, and submit them regularly to the Authority. The committee will redesign the examination program based on your materials."
According to Madam Marchbank's plan, the fifth and seventh years currently preparing for exams would remain unchanged, while third, fourth, and sixth years would follow the new plan in preparation for next year's updated exams.
Unexpectedly, even the magic school professors now had to submit their teaching logs.
Melvin replied to every question, promising to send monthly lesson plans. At the end of the letter, he recommended several books not children's encyclopedias, but scientific popularizations for young readers.
He folded the letter neatly into an envelope, planning to send it the next morning. Then he took out a blank sheet of parchment and began writing another letter thoughtfully.
This one was intended for Knockturn Alley. The deal he had arranged wasn't yet complete, and he still hadn't received the map of Britain's magical villages. He was writing to inform them of a new delivery address to be sent to the Hogsmeade Post Office.
Receiving it at Hogwarts would have been too risky it could expose his identity.
Finally, he unfolded the schedule that Professor McGonagall had sent him.
He had a class the next morning, apparently with third-year students.
Hogwarts was a magical castle, and that magic pulsed through every corner of it.
The magic of the Transfiguration classroom lay in Professor McGonagall's skill, transforming desks into fat, squealing pigs with a single flick of her wand. The magic of the portraits resided in the wizards who roamed freely, whispering through the halls. The brick walls hid moving staircases and shifting doors, eager to make the unwary lose their way. Ghosts drifted in and out; students practiced charms; house-elves scurried in the shadows…
New students and teachers found it all wondrous, while the older ones had long grown used to it. Few wizards realized that this same enchantment had endured for millennia unchanged and unrenewed.
Such stagnant magic, devoid of novelty, revealed its flaws long ago.
Melvin climbed the moving stone staircase, gradually learning its shifting rhythm, as his initial sense of wonder began to fade.
The other new students experienced much the same.
"Don't think no one saw you!"
A deep, vaguely familiar voice made him pause mid-step. Peering around the corner, he saw Snape and Quirrell facing each other.
"You were watching that boy, weren't you?" Snape hissed.
"I I wasn't... wasn't..." Quirrell stammered, his severe stutter perhaps a lingering side effect of Voldemort's mental possession.
"Denying it, are you?"
"I... I... know you..."
"Don't know what I mean?"
"You were watching him too."
"..."
Snape glared icily at him, suspecting the last line had been deliberately articulate.
Melvin pressed his lips together, barely suppressing a smile but a faint snort escaped him. Both men turned sharply toward the sound.
"Ahem..."
Melvin stepped calmly around the corner. "Excuse me, could you tell me where the Muggle Studies classroom is? I'm still unfamiliar with the castle."
Snape gave him a cold stare, said nothing, and swept away down the stairs. Quirrell, still trembling slightly, pointed down the corridor. "I-it's... this floor. T-t-turn right ahead... th-third room."
"Thank you very much," Melvin said with a polite smile, watching him disappear. Snape really was unpleasant.
He followed Quirrell's directions and soon found the classroom.
A few minutes before the lesson began, most of the third-year students had already arrived. They chatted animatedly boys discussing why the fourth-floor hallway had suddenly been blocked off, while the girls giggled about their outfits from last night or gossip from the Daily Prophet.
Melvin paused by the door, listening for half a minute. He could tell which houses they were from and even recognized a few familiar names.
Ding dong...
The bell rang, and the room fell silent. Melvin pushed open the door and entered.
He was still dressed in Muggle fashion a pine-green blazer over a jet-black shirt, the notched lapels naturally folded. The soft, slightly loose fabric gave him an air both relaxed and refined.
Many young witches' eyes lit up immediately.
The boys, too, noticed their new professor looked rather handsome.
"Melvin... Lewynter..."
The students watched as chalk dust traced his name on the blackboard, whispering it softly.
It was a familiar presentation method McGonagall had reshaped the whole blackboard, Flitwick conjured his name in shining sparks, and even Professor Sprout had once spelled hers out using venomous tentacle vines.
Snape, of course, had never bothered introducing himself.
Melvin's approach, however, felt unusually Muggle.
He finished writing, dropped the chalk carelessly onto the desk, and turned.
"I imagine many of you have seen my name on your schedules or perhaps even in The Prophet. Since not everyone reads the papers, and some of you may have questions about the changes in this course...
You now have five minutes to raise your hand and ask."
The students' eyes brightened.
It was always the professor who asked them questions but never the other way around. This time, it felt like a real dialogue.
A girl in the second row raised her hand first.
"Yes, you."
"Professor, are you really from Ilvermorny?"
"A pointless question but yes."
"Uh... Professor, why did you drop out?"
"A very good question. When I left school, I knew many people would ask that, so I prepared plenty of answers but none of them ever fit. Not even Headmaster Dumbledore asked me when he hired me. I suspect he forgot."
A wave of laughter spread across the classroom. Melvin waited for it to settle before continuing.
"The formal answer is: I had already completed my core studies, and the final two years were mostly revision and exam prep. I wanted to test my knowledge in the real world to observe, to experience, to explore. My mind was bursting with ideas, and a graduation certificate felt less important. Leaving school just... happened naturally."
Silence followed then a Gryffindor girl raised her hand again.
"Professor, what's the less formal answer?"
Melvin smiled. "The world is too big so I wanted to see it."
Laughter rippled again, lighter this time.
He continued, tone soft but serious:
"Leaving school was a difficult choice. I thought I had a plan or perhaps just good timing. But I wouldn't recommend others do the same. If I found out any of you were considering it, I'd contact your parents and advise them to confiscate your wands immediately."
That earned a few nervous chuckles.
"Professor, what's Ilvermorny like?"
"It's similar to Hogwarts four houses, boarding system but with different teaching methods. If you want to learn about other magic schools, I can recommend books like The Educational Crisis in the Wizarding World, How Magical Schools Influence Society, and School in the Desert: A History of Witch Education in Afghanistan."
"Professor Lewynter, how is the new curriculum different from the old one?"
"You'll find out soon enough it's hard to explain briefly."
"But Professor, will there be a lot of homework?"
"That depends entirely on your effort."
"Sir, I heard you're an advisor for the Examination Authority. Does that mean you'll write future exam questions?"
Melvin smiled. "Don't think I don't know what you're after. My advice: study hard."
The five-minute Q&A ended quickly. Though it felt like many questions were asked, none had truly been answered but the gap between students and teacher had narrowed.
This "ordinary" theoretical subject suddenly felt far more interesting than anyone expected.
"Now that you know me a little better," Melvin said, pulling out a chair to sit casually beside the podium, "it's your turn. Starting with you name, house, and why you chose this course."
The students exchanged excited looks another new experience!
"I'm Alicia Spinnet, from Gryffindor," said the girl nervously but confidently. "I'm Muggle-born, and I think this class will be easy maybe I'll earn an extra certificate."
Melvin nodded knowingly.
"Next."
"Angelina Johnson, Gryffindor. I'm Alicia's roommate she dragged me here."
"Lee Jordan, Gryffindor," said a boy with dreadlocks. "I like Angelina, so I came too."
The whole class burst into laughter. Angelina rolled her eyes.
"Cedric Diggory, Hufflepuff. I'm interested in Muggle culture and want to learn more. If it's engaging, I'll continue next year; if not, I'll drop it."
"Roger Davies, Ravenclaw. Same reason as Cedric."
"Cassius Warrington, Slytherin. My father told me to take it it'll help me join the Ministry after graduation."
The reasons varied little: most thought it easy, convenient, or social. Only a few were genuinely interested in the Muggle world but even so, none saw it as a vital subject.
As expected, the Slytherins were few but pragmatic and purposeful.
Melvin remained expressionless throughout, merely nodding. "A question for you all did you already know one another?"
Cedric answered after a pause. "I know all the Hufflepuffs and some of the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. I recognize some Slytherin Quidditch players, but only by face."
Melvin nodded again, unsurprised. "All right. Those whose names I've called, please help fetch the textbooks from the library storeroom. The rest of you stay here and get to know each other better."
"Cedric Diggory, Lee Jordan, Roger Davies, Cassius Warrington…"
The young professor seemed to remember each name after hearing it only once.
(End of Chapter)