During their very first Care of Magical Creatures lesson, Hagrid literally spent the entire period instructing the third-years on how to feed shredded lettuce to lethargic Flobberworms.
There were no other activities planned. They just stood in the damp grass and fed worms until the bell rang.
Maurise honestly had no idea how to evaluate the experience.
Typically, professors went to great lengths to prepare engaging, exciting curriculum for their introductory lectures to capture the students' interest.
Describing Hagrid's lesson as merely "perfunctory" felt like a gross understatement.
It was essentially an organized, supervised session of absolute idleness.
As they trudged back up the sloping lawn toward the castle, Kyle leaned close to Maurise, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "The Care of Magical Creatures class the other two houses had yesterday wasn't like this at all."
"They didn't feed Flobberworms?" Maurise asked.
"I heard they were introduced to Hippogriffs," Kyle replied.
"Now that sounds considerably more engaging," Maurise nodded.
Hippogriffs, as the name heavily implied, were magnificent, highly dangerous magical beasts possessing the physical characteristics of both an eagle and a horse. While they resembled winged horses in stature and possessed the ability to fly, the Ministry of Magic formally classified them as a distinct, separate species.
Maurise clearly recalled observing several highly sketchy merchants attempting to sell smuggled Hippogriff hatchlings deep within Knockturn Alley. They fetched an exorbitant price on the black market.
"Unfortunately, a student was severely injured during the demonstration and had to be rushed to Madam Pomfrey's hospital wing," Kyle explained. "That is almost certainly why Hagrid resorted to dumping these pathetic worms on us today."
"Ah, I see. That perfectly explains the sudden shift in curriculum," Maurise noted in understanding.
A severe student injury occurring during the very first lecture of his teaching career would undoubtedly shatter Hagrid's already fragile confidence. The massive half-giant's emotional resilience was notoriously much weaker than his imposing physical stature suggested; his subsequent retreat to the safest, most pathetic creature available made perfect psychological sense.
"Who exactly sustained the injury?" Maurise asked out of mild curiosity.
"I believe it was Draco Malfoy from Slytherin," Kyle answered, though he sounded slightly uncertain. "I merely overheard some students gossiping about it during breakfast."
Maurise paused, a highly incredulous expression crossing his face. "Malfoy is genuinely that incompetent?"
"Er..." Kyle opened his mouth to reply, only to freeze mid-sentence.
Rounding the corner of the stone corridor directly ahead of them was none other than Draco Malfoy, accompanied by a sharp-faced Slytherin girl.
"Oh, brilliant. Trouble," Kyle hissed, leaning frantically into Maurise's ear. "I am absolutely certain they just heard you."
Maurise casually raised his eyes.
Kyle was entirely correct.
Draco's pale face looked incredibly tense. However, he didn't appear enraged; rather, he looked profoundly, intensely awkward.
The sharp-featured girl walking beside him, however, was glaring daggers at them, her face contorted with highly aggressive, self-righteous fury.
"You there!" The girl immediately marched right up to Maurise and Kyle, her voice shrill and grating. "How dare you speak ill of Draco behind his back!"
Maurise stared blankly at her face.
'Er... who exactly is this again?'
He possessed a vague, passing recollection of her features, but he honestly couldn't recall her name. He certainly didn't bother committing every single student's name to his memory.
"Pansy, drop it. Let us just go."
Draco quickly stepped forward, tightly grabbing Pansy Parkinson's sleeve and attempting to pull her away. His face remained completely blank, but the suffocating awkwardness radiating from him was palpable.
It was only then that Maurise noticed Draco's right arm was heavily wrapped in thick white bandages and supported by a sling.
Pansy froze, staring at him in utter disbelief. "Draco? What on earth are you doing? He just insulted you!"
"I said we are leaving," Draco repeated firmly. He kept his gaze locked rigidly forward, absolutely refusing to make any form of eye contact with Maurise.
Without waiting for her response, he turned on his heel and marched swiftly down the corridor.
Seeing him retreat, Pansy had no choice but to shoot Maurise one final, venomous glare before jogging after the blonde boy.
"Draco! Wait for me! Why on earth are you so terrified of that nobody?!"
"I am not terrified of him, Pansy. The boy is completely unhinged. There is absolutely no benefit to engaging in an argument with a lunatic..."
Their voices slowly faded as they disappeared around the far corner.
Maurise remained standing perfectly still, watching them vanish.
'A lunatic?'
'Heh. It seems Malfoy's skin is itching for another beating.'
Though, if he were entirely objective, describing himself as "unhinged" was perhaps a highly accurate assessment of his character.
Kyle slumped against the stone wall, letting out a massive, shaky exhale. "Bloody hell, that was terrifying. I honestly thought we were about to get hexed into oblivion."
"Do not worry yourself," Maurise said breezily. "Malfoy is absolutely terrified of me."
Kyle's curiosity flared instantly. "Why? What exactly happened between you two?"
Within the halls of Hogwarts, absolutely everyone was aware of Draco Malfoy's arrogant, domineering, highly aggressive personality. It was incredibly rare to see the boy back down from a confrontation.
Maurise offered a faint, mysterious smile. "Do not concern yourself with it."
"Oh," Kyle muttered, visibly dissatisfied with the vague deflection.
However, he didn't press the issue. After spending so much time around Maurise, he had long since learned an absolute, fundamental rule: if Maurise Black refused to share something, begging him would prove entirely useless.
The two boys resumed their walk toward their next class.
After walking in silence for a few minutes, Kyle finally couldn't hold it in any longer. "But seriously, why?!"
Maurise merely threw a highly irritating, sing-song reply over his shoulder. "Take a guess~"
Kyle: "..."
---
Ten minutes later, down in the damp, greenish gloom of the Slytherin common room.
Draco marched straight toward the most secluded, heavily shadowed sofa in the corner and threw himself down, sinking deeply into the plush leather cushions.
Pansy quickly followed, taking a seat directly across from him. She stared at him intently for a long moment.
"Are you going to explain yourself now?" she asked, her voice significantly softer and more cautious than before. "What exactly is the situation with that Maurise Black character?"
Draco let out a heavy, frustrated sigh, his voice muffled and sullen. "My father explicitly ordered me to avoid interacting with him."
Pansy looked profoundly confused. "But why?"
"Black apparently possesses an incredibly close, highly unusual relationship with Dumbledore," Draco explained in a low whisper. "My father stated that the Headmaster personally looks out for him and treats him with extreme favoritism."
Pansy's brow furrowed tightly. "Dumbledore? Why on earth would the Headmaster care about someone like Maurise Black?"
"I have absolutely no idea," Draco stared blankly at the stone ceiling. "Regardless, the directive is to avoid any unnecessary contact. Ultimately, he is nothing more than a filthy Mudblood anyway. He isn't worth wasting my valuable time or energy on."
"A Mudblood," Pansy sneered coldly, a look of profound disgust washing over her face.
Draco lowered his gaze, his eyes falling on his heavily bandaged forearm.
"Oh, Draco, does your arm still hurt terribly?" Pansy instantly shifted her demeanor, her voice dripping with cloying concern. "Can you move it at all?"
"Not yet," Draco shook his head. His voice suddenly dropped into a cold, highly vindictive sneer. "I firmly believe Hogwarts is in desperate need of a vastly more competent Care of Magical Creatures Professor."
He absolutely despised Hagrid. He always had, right from the very first day of his first year.
The fact that the massive, bumbling oaf had actually been promoted to an official teaching position was an absolute insult to the school's prestige. On what grounds had he been hired? Merely because he was Dumbledore's loyal lapdog?
"I completely agree," Pansy chimed in eagerly.
---
The first period after lunch was Defense Against the Dark Arts.
The moment Professor Lupin stepped into the classroom, he announced cheerfully, "Today's lesson will be entirely practical. Please stow your textbooks and draw your wands. We are relocating."
The third-year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs eagerly followed him out of the classroom, trailing him down the corridor until they eventually halted outside the staffroom door.
"Please, step inside," Lupin opened the heavy oak door, stepping aside to allow the students to enter.
Maurise filed into the staffroom along with the rest of the crowd.
This particular room was typically completely empty during the day, serving as a quiet sanctuary for the professors. Today, however, there was a single occupant.
It was Professor Snape.
He was leaning back in a worn armchair, his eyes closed and his arms crossed tightly over his chest, seemingly attempting to rest in the quiet room.
Hearing the sudden commotion, his eyelids twitched slightly, but he did not open them.
"Snape," Lupin addressed him calmly after closing the door behind the final student. "Why exactly are you currently occupying this room?"
Snape finally opened his eyes, incredibly slowly.
His dark, calculating gaze swept briefly over Lupin before settling on the large crowd of nervous students huddled near the door. He offered a cold, highly contemptuous sneer. "I was attempting to rest. Is that suddenly a violation of school rules, Lupin?"
Observing the incredibly tense exchange, Maurise suddenly comprehended the underlying dynamic.
Snape and Lupin deeply despised one another. This animosity was glaringly apparent to anyone possessing even a shred of observational skill.
Maurise was absolutely no exception.
He strongly suspected Snape was currently lingering in the staffroom purely to annoy Lupin and intentionally disrupt his planned lesson.