September 1st—the day the school year officially began.
The Great Hall inside the castle had been carefully decorated to create a warm and welcoming atmosphere. Long tables stretched across the vast chamber, filling gradually as students entered in orderly groups according to their year and house. At the High Table, professors took their seats one after another, their presence lending a sense of authority and tradition to the occasion.
Linn sat at the edge of the High Table, quietly observing everything around him with keen interest.
It had to be said—despite Hogwarts' somewhat outdated lighting system—the sight of thousands of candles floating in midair was nothing short of breathtaking. Their soft glow illuminated the hall, casting gentle shadows that danced along the walls. Above them, the enchanted ceiling reflected a star-filled sky, so vivid it felt as though one could reach up and touch the constellations.
Adjusting his silver-framed glasses, Linn studied the scene more closely.
These glasses were no ordinary accessory. They were an alchemical creation of his own design, permanently enchanted with a fifth-circle Detection Spell through the use of "Permanency." With them, Linn could quickly analyze people, objects, and even magical effects in his surroundings. The enchantment was stable, functioning as a constant high-level illusion layered with sensory capabilities—he could even perceive the weather outside the castle in real time.
A fascinating combination of spells, and an elegant one at that. Truly, Hogwarts was worthy of its reputation.
"Professor Gray, truly young and promising."
A cheerful voice interrupted his thoughts. Sitting not far away, the diminutive Professor Flitwick—perched atop a stack of books—raised his goblet toward him.
Linn returned the gesture with a polite nod. "A pleasure to meet you, Professor."
Before he could say more, a booming voice came from his other side.
"Nice to meet you, Professor Gray! Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys!"
Turning his head, Linn saw the enormous figure of the half-giant. Hagrid's face, partially hidden behind a thick beard, was flushed red—likely from drink—and his enthusiasm was unmistakable.
"Professor Dumbledore told me you lived in the forest for ten years! You must've seen all sorts of magical creatures! We've got to talk sometime—I love those dangerous little darlings!"
"There will be an opportunity," Linn replied with a faint smile, lifting his goblet.
At that moment, he felt the temperature around him drop sharply.
A dark figure slid into the empty seat beside him, bringing with it a faint scent of herbs and an oppressive chill.
Severus Snape.
Even during such a festive occasion, the Potions Professor maintained his perpetually dour expression, as though the entire world owed him a significant debt. His greasy black hair framed his pale face, and his hollow eyes scanned the students below before settling on Linn.
"It seems Dumbledore grows more misguided with each passing year," Snape murmured in a low, silken voice edged with disdain. "Allowing a child barely out of infancy to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts… I wonder how long you'll last. Perhaps until Christmas."
The implication was clear—the infamous curse on the position.
Linn calmly took a sip of red wine before turning to face him.
"I hope you last a bit longer as well, Professor Snape."
Snape's eyes narrowed slightly. "I have taught here for eleven years. Your concern is unnecessary."
"Oh, I wasn't referring to your tenure," Linn said with a mild smile. "I meant your hair. Chronic irritability often leads to endocrine imbalance—excess oil production, severe greasiness… even hair loss. Judging by its current condition, I'd say it may not last much longer."
For a brief moment, Snape's gaze sharpened dangerously, as if he might cast a curse through sheer will alone.
Unfazed, Linn added, "If you're interested, I could recommend a few effective oil-control shampoos. Muggle products are surprisingly reliable in this regard."
Snape let out a cold snort and turned away, clearly choosing silence over escalation.
By then, the Sorting Ceremony was nearing its conclusion.
Linn watched as Professor McGonagall removed the Sorting Hat and returned it to its place. Through his enchanted glasses, information appeared clearly before him:
Item Name: Godric Gryffindor's Sorting Hat
Type: Wondrous Item
Grade: Legendary
Traits:
Intelligent Item
Personality Analysis
??? (Unknown ability)
"A legendary-grade item…" Linn murmured to himself, slightly surprised.
In Faerûn, such items bordered on artifacts. He hadn't expected this seemingly simple hat to possess such a high classification. The unknown trait likely referred to its ability to produce the Sword of Gryffindor.
As the feast began, Linn shifted his attention to the student tables below.
The Gryffindor table was lively and loud, filled with laughter and conversation. Among them, however, one figure stood out.
A girl with bushy brown hair sat rigidly, her attention divided between the doors of the Great Hall and the two empty seats beside her. She hadn't touched her food at all.
Hermione Granger.
Linn observed her thoughtfully. Reality differed slightly from memory—she wasn't particularly striking in appearance, especially given her lack of grooming—but there was a sharp intelligence in her eyes.
Activating his glasses, he examined her attributes.
Even as a second-year student, her Intelligence had already reached 15—a remarkable figure. For comparison, Linn himself had started with 17 after transmigration.
Impressive.
He continued scanning the hall, noting patterns among the houses.
Slytherin students generally displayed higher Charisma, with some upperclassmen reaching 16 or even 18. A fitting trait for a house known for ambition and influence.
Ravenclaw, on the other hand, surprised him. Rather than Intelligence, their standout attribute appeared to be Perception. Reflecting on it, the pattern made sense—many Ravenclaws were more observant and intuitive than conventionally "intellectual."
Midway through the feast, a sudden disturbance drew his attention.
The caretaker, Filch, approached the High Table, clutching a rolled newspaper. His cat followed closely, looking unusually agitated. Rather than addressing Dumbledore directly, Filch leaned toward Snape and whispered something.
Snape's expression darkened further—yet beneath the gloom, there was a flicker of something resembling satisfaction.
"Very good… very good…" he muttered before rising abruptly and sweeping out of the hall.
Only then did Linn recall the timeline.
This was Harry Potter's second year. The incident with the flying car.
Setting down his glass, Linn stood.
Perhaps it was worth meeting the "protagonists."
Deep within the dungeons, in Snape's office, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley sat huddled together, pale and shaken.
Their misadventure had left them rattled, and now they faced a far more intimidating threat—Severus Snape.
"…I shall fetch someone better suited to deal with you," Snape had said before leaving.
Moments later, the door opened again.
Instead of Snape, a young man entered.
"Excuse me… who are you?" Harry asked cautiously.
"Lynn Gray," he replied. "Your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."
"Hello, Professor…"
"Relax," Linn said, stepping closer. "You won't be expelled."
With a flick of his wand, he repaired Harry's broken glasses.
"Two second-year students flying an unstable magical vehicle across Britain without supervision…" Linn said, meeting their eyes. "Frankly, I think that deserves recognition."
Harry and Ron stared at him, stunned.
"Next time," Linn added with a wink, "make sure your invisibility system is working properly."
At that moment, both boys silently decided that Defense Against the Dark Arts would be their favorite subject.
"Absurd! Completely absurd!"
Snape's voice cut through the room as he returned, accompanied by McGonagall and Dumbledore.
"Professor Gray's methods are highly inappropriate," Snape declared.
"Inappropriate?" Linn replied calmly. "I'm simply acknowledging their initiative. Faced with a problem, they chose to solve it independently. That spirit has value."
"Breaking rules has consequences," McGonagall said firmly, though her expression softened slightly.
"Indeed," Dumbledore added. "While their courage is commendable, discipline must be maintained."
He turned to the boys.
"You will receive punishment, and your families will be informed. Any further misconduct will not be tolerated."
Then, with a light tone, he added, "Now, Minerva, shall we return? I believe there was a rather excellent custard tart waiting."
As they left, Linn glanced once more at Harry, his glasses quietly displaying a detailed breakdown of the boy's attributes.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
For more chapters
patreon.com/Albert213