Another school year, another Sorting Ceremony. This year's ceremony was no different from usual. The first-years, pale-faced from frightening rumors, finally breathed sighs of relief when they discovered there were no dragons, no trolls, no phoenixes, and no scary tests—just a dirty hat they had to put on.
"Everyone, there have been some changes to the staff this year..."
The old wizard had probably said this line far too many times, so his expression didn't change even slightly. "Let us welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart."
As soon as he finished speaking, a glittering man stood up from the staff table, flashing a dazzling smile and waving to the crowd.
"Of course, there is one more announcement I must make..."
The old wizard's gaze landed on someone hiding in the corner. Though reluctant, Owen stood up, hovered just above the ground, and flew from the back of the hall to the front. He bowed to the professors, then turned to face the students of the four Houses.
"My name is Owen Corlett. Starting today, I will be your Teaching Assistant for Potions, Herbology, Charms, and Transfiguration. Additionally, if anyone has questions regarding History of Magic, Astronomy, Alchemy, Care of Magical Creatures, or Muggle Studies, you may also come to find me. I will be on the lawn outside the castle for one hour after dinner every day."
After speaking, Owen didn't fly back to his corner. Instead, he sat down at a special table placed between the staff table and the student tables.
Incidentally, Lockhart had tried to sit there earlier. But before he could even lower himself into the chair, Snape had pulled him away and informed him that it was a reserved seat—and definitely not for him.
Lockhart had been puzzled then, but now it made sense. What he was more curious about was how Hogwarts had a student who seemed even more special than Harry Potter.
This young wizard must have quite a story, no?
A certain young witch tugged at her sister's sleeve. "Daphne, is this Owen... really powerful?"
While Daphne was figuring out how to explain, Draco, sitting across from them, looked up. He stared into the little girl's eyes and said, "Not just powerful. Extremely powerful. He is the most unique person in Hogwarts. If you don't want to become the school's public enemy number one, do not provoke him. Especially when he is reading—you must keep quiet."
"Astoria..." Daphne patted her sister's head. "Draco is right. Since you are here now, there are some things you need to discover for yourself. Also, go to sleep early tonight. Wake up at six tomorrow for the morning run."
"W-what time?"
The little witch felt like she must have misheard. Six o'clock? The sun wouldn't even be up!
"Don't be surprised. This is a tradition Owen left for Slytherin. Wake up at six for a morning run, rain or shine. Plus, there are special benefits."
The little girl didn't know what the special benefits were, but she went to bed right after dinner. The next morning, she woke up early and groggily followed the large group for the run. Until she saw someone on the path...
"Owen? He's running with us?"
"Yes, Owen has been doing this for years..." Draco looked at the dazed girl. For some reason, something felt slightly off, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "After the run, someone will instruct you on the next exercises."
After running a lap around the castle and arriving at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the little witch felt like she was dying. Looking around, she realized that almost everyone gasping for air was a first-year. The second-years and above showed no reaction at all.
"First-years, over here!"
"Prefect!"
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen. Since it's your first day, you have a special privilege: you get to watch our practice. I will explain as we go. Starting tomorrow, you will be expected to follow the routine自觉ly. Come, over here. Look. After running, we practice spellcasting techniques here. Remember, it's technique practice, not actual spellcasting. Only when you have mastered sufficient technique... Look over there. Casting while moving. Someone will teach you the techniques when you're ready."
"What if we master that?"
A young wizard asked the question. The young prefect didn't get angry; instead, he led them to another area where upper-year students were engaged in wizarding duels. The first-years watched with their mouths hanging open.
"In Mr. Corlett's words, magic is a form of power. We must learn not just to possess it, but to wield it. Wizarding duels are the most comprehensive demonstration of this. Watch closely. I hope you can join them soon."
The young wizards were impressed. But someone sharp-eyed spotted a certain person boxing against a tree. "Isn't that Mr. Corlett? What is he doing..."
"Boxing practice. You don't need to learn that, and honestly, you probably can't. Remember this: on the 10th and 20th of every month, Mr. Corlett gives dueling lessons. This is a benefit exclusive to Slytherin."
"Don't other Houses have it?"
"It's not that they can't, it's that they can't wake up early enough. So naturally, they miss out. Hahaha! Alright, let's go. You can go back, get your books ready for class, and grab breakfast."
---
New school year, same curriculum, just a different professor.
Owen didn't have any strong feelings about Lockhart. The man's books were well-written, but they always seemed to gloss over the most critical points lightly. Owen assumed Lockhart would explain these key details clearly in class, treating his books as introductory material.
But he was disappointed. The content of the class had absolutely nothing to do with Defense Against the Dark Arts. Looking at the quiz handed to him, Owen simply flicked his wrist. Blue Fiendfyre consumed the paper instantly. Then, without sparing Lockhart a glance, he vanished from the classroom.
Unlike others who would complain to the Headmaster about an incompetent professor, Owen wouldn't. Dumbledore hired this man for a reason, whether good or bad.
This year, he had been assigned the role of Teaching Assistant for almost every subject. This was a test for him as well, so he needed more time to study.
In core subjects like Potions, Charms, and Transfiguration, Owen had no issues assisting students from first year all the way to seventh.
But for some electives, like Astronomy, he was a bit weaker. He needed to adjust his sleep schedule to make time for stargazing.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
With the password, the Marauder's Map slowly revealed itself. After checking and finding nothing abnormal, Owen closed it.
He thought for a moment, then tidied up and headed to the dungeons. Finding Professor Snape absent, he went to Professor McGonagall's office. Seeing the busy witch, Owen picked up a stack of processed documents and began reading them one by one.
If he was going to protect the school, he couldn't just teach students; he needed to learn administrative management too.
The only upside was that Hogwarts currently had sufficient funding, even carrying over a surplus each year. Part of this fund was being used to replace hardware like desks and chairs. Years four through seven were done; years one through three would be upgraded next year after saving up a bit more.
The biggest expense for the school was food. The house-elves genuinely served the students with heart, selecting only the best and freshest ingredients.
However, the menu was too repetitive, meaning the suppliers were few, and prices were naturally controlled by them.
One potato: one Knut.
Ten chicken legs: one Sickle.
Fifty kilograms of flour: one Galleon.
"Professor, these prices are unreasonable. I think it's necessary to switch suppliers."
McGonagall took the invoice, glanced at it, and looked at the young wizard calmly. "If you were to handle this, what would you do?"