Stepping out of the Headmaster's office with Tom in tow, Viktor let out a long, relieved breath.
He'd known Dumbledore's invitation pretty much guaranteed the job, but that old "dropout" label had still nagged at him like a stubborn Splinching scar.
Now, with the contract signed and the magical bond to Hogwarts sealed, he finally felt the weight lift. He wasn't sneaking back in as some failed ex-student anymore. He was returning as a full-fledged, respected professor.
For the first time in years, Viktor felt clear-headed, shoulders light, everything clicking into place.
He reached over and gave Tom a vigorous ruffle—the cat was currently locked in a completely unfair toothpick-sized knight's sword duel with Sir Cadogan's portrait, jabbing away like a tiny berserker.
After a quick laugh and a wave goodbye to the indignant portrait knight, Viktor headed straight for Professor McGonagall's office to report in.
…
Knock, knock.
A small carpet cat unrolled itself and hopped up to push the door open.
"I've already received notification from Dumbledore. Congratulations, Professor Viktor."
McGonagall looked up from her desk as Viktor walked in with Tom trailing behind.
"Thanks, Professor. Looking forward to working with you."
She studied him for a second—the way he suddenly seemed steadier, more settled—and gave a satisfied nod.
"Of course. You can come to me with any questions."
As she spoke, McGonagall flicked her wand.
The tall bookcase beside her opened silently. A dozen or so sheets of parchment flew out and arranged themselves neatly in front of Viktor.
"Here's your timetable, student rosters, list of professor duties and privileges, requisition forms for supplies, and the teaching plan Silvanus Kettleburn left behind."
"And the most important question: do you want to change the textbooks?"
"Besides the absolute basics, as a Hogwarts professor you're allowed to add supplementary material that fits your curriculum."
Viktor's eyes lit up instantly. He looked almost giddy.
But then McGonagall gave him a very pointed look and added,
"However—your book is not allowed."
"Which one, Professor? I only wrote two."
McGonagall took a slow, deep breath at his feigned innocence.
"Don't play dumb, Viktor. You know exactly which one."
"How could I? I wrote them myself, I'd remember—"
"Enough." She cut him off before he could finish. "The one called Magical Creatures in the Stomach. I will not have the entire castle reeking of barbecue and hot pot every time you open a class."
Viktor rubbed the back of his neck, defeated.
"Fine, fine, Professor. No adding that one. Let me think… the original text is Grandpa's Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, right?"
"Then I'll use my Magical Creatures Here and The Monster Book of Monsters instead."
"Only the little witches and wizards brave enough to stare down sharp teeth and claws get to take my class."
McGonagall sighed but scribbled the two titles onto one of the parchments.
"Very well. Anything else, Viktor?"
He scratched his head, suddenly sheepish.
"Um… Professor, did Dumbledore mention anything about my salary? He said he'd…"
McGonagall inhaled sharply, eyes narrowing.
"Your salary will be doubled. Now get out—immediately. You've already disrupted my work."
…
Amid McGonagall's lioness roar, Viktor and Tom fled the Deputy Headmistress's office.
Both of them were digging at their ears in perfect sync as they walked down the corridor.
"Man, Professor McGonagall is exactly the same as ever," Viktor laughed. "That's actually really comforting."
"Right—let's see… second floor, left turn, right, right again… yep, here we are!"
In front of them stood a thick oak door.
Viktor drew his wand, tapped into his new Hogwarts privileges, and gave it a light knock.
With a low creak, the heavy door swung open.
Inside was solid, dark wood furniture that smelled faintly of polish and age, and the room was spotless.
Viktor couldn't help but marvel at how hard the house-elves worked—even an office sealed for decades looked ready for immediate use.
The moment he stepped in, a small figure popped into existence right in front of him with an excited squeak.
"Honoured Mr. Scamander! Welcome back to Hogwarts!"
Viktor broke into a wide, genuine grin and reached down to gently pinch the elf's enormous ears.
"Long time no see, Jamie. How's the cookbook I gave you lot coming along?"
"Very well, sir! The house-elves are always ready for your inspection!"
"Excellent. I'll be counting on you to impress me at the start-of-term feast, then."
"We won't let you down, sir!"
"Great. Thanks for the welcome, Jamie—but I don't need anything right now. I'll call if I do."
"At your service anytime!"
With a sharp pop, Jamie vanished again, practically vibrating with excitement.
Viktor chuckled. "What a bunch of pure-hearted little guys."
He turned to survey his new office properly.
Sixty square metres—plenty of space. Deep brown, time-worn wood furniture that felt solid and reassuring.
At the back was a smaller door. He pushed it open to reveal a roughly fifty-square-metre rest room.
Through the window he could see the greenhouses, Hagrid's hut, and the endless green sea of the Forbidden Forest stretching to the horizon.
The rest room was empty for now. Viktor flicked his wand.
Click.
The latches on the suitcase at his feet snapped open.
Another wave of his wand, and the case warped and stretched—until it became a pair of towering double doors, easily two metres high.
The heavy doors swung wide almost eagerly.
A furry Niffler poked his head out, sniffing suspiciously at the outside world.
The instant he spotted Viktor, he froze.
He'd been the one who'd sneaked out in the Headmaster's office earlier.
Before he could duck back inside, though, he was shoved out head-first in a tumbling roll.
Then came a whole avalanche of squealing, scrambling Nifflers pouring through the doorway.
As the last one tumbled out, the massive doors stood fully open.
And with them came a flood of sounds—chirps, growls, rustles, distant roars, the soft splash of water, the flutter of wings—all pouring out from the other side like an invitation to chaos.