Ding! Ring ring ring ring~
Early morning. The Niffler-shaped alarm clock promptly pulled a tiny bell from its belly pouch and began shaking it like mad. The crisp ringing echoed through the room.
Amid the noise, Viktor let out a huge yawn and sat up in bed.
From the luxurious cat bed beside him, a paw shot out like a cannonball—smack!—and nailed the Niffler clock square on the head.
The poor alarm clock's eyes spun into mosquito coils. It wobbled in a full circle on the desk before collapsing with a dramatic plop.
A few seconds later, rhythmic snoring resumed from the cat bed.
Viktor shook his head at the instantly-back-to-sleep Tom, got up, and started his morning routine.
In the bathroom, brushing his teeth in front of the mirror, Viktor was in an excellent mood.
And not just because he'd finally become a Druid the day before—gaining Nature Sense, Animal Speech, Nature Shapeshifting, and all the other abilities that left him feeling refreshed and connected.
No, today was even better.
Today was his very first class at Hogwarts.
And after some very firm (and very logical) negotiation with McGonagall, she had finally approved his revised timetable.
What used to be two-house joint classes had been merged into one giant four-house mega-class.
Plus Magical Creature Protection was an elective that only started in third year.
Which meant… from now on, Viktor only had to teach one big class per day and he was done.
Compared to the Defence professor and Snape, whose schedules were packed wall-to-wall with back-to-back lessons…
Viktor could only feel overwhelming happiness.
Happiness really was relative.
He still remembered the schedules McGonagall had shown him over the summer—for Potions and Defence.
In his previous life he would have summed it up in one sentence:
"Ten years of hard study just to spend the rest of your life in hard labour. What's the difference between this and a life sentence?"
He'd even joked to himself that the reason the Defence Against the Dark Arts position was cursed wasn't dark magic at all—it was sheer exhaustion.
Snape's permanent scowl and overflowing resentment? Obviously caused by never having time to wash his hair because he was too busy dealing with chattering students all day.
And yet Snape still found time to brew potions, research new ones, and patrol the corridors at night to catch rule-breakers and deduct points.
Honestly? Snape was basically Superman.
Oh, right—and now Snape also had to carve out extra time to brew an antidote for Tom's gender-swap potion.
Tsk tsk. Truly exhausting.
Muttering about Snape's superhuman workload (completely forgetting who caused the extra work in the first place), Viktor headed to the Great Hall for breakfast in high spirits.
His class today was second period for fourth-years. Plenty of time. After breakfast he could even take a quick stroll through the Forbidden Forest.
......
In the bright, spacious Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom,
What should have been a neat and orderly space was currently utter chaos.
The little badgers and eagles sat in stunned silence, watching the dishevelled figure of Lockhart stagger out the door.
After a long moment of quiet, the students began silently helping each other fix ruined hairstyles and straighten rumpled robes.
The long-awaited first Defence lesson had ended in complete farce.
No one had expected the world-famous, supposedly invincible Gilderoy Lockhart to be… this incompetent in person.
A bizarre pop quiz followed by a disaster caused by a supposed South American creature called a "Capoeira" (or whatever Lockhart called it) had turned the class into a literal catastrophe.
Thinking back to those dozen-or-so furry little demons—each one as mischievous as Peeves—the badgers and eagles collectively shuddered.
"Maybe… possibly… Professor Lockhart just isn't very good at teaching," offered one of his die-hard fans among the Hufflepuffs, voice full of uncertainty and doubt.
"Alright everyone, clean up and let's go. Next is Professor Viktor's class—we don't want to be late."
Cedric spoke up, already helping his neighbours tidy their robes.
At the reminder, the rest of the students snapped back to reality.
The Hufflepuffs looked excited and eager.
The Ravenclaws… noticeably more hesitant.
Clearly, Lockhart's performance had left a heavy psychological shadow.
"Cedric… do you know anything about this Professor Viktor? He's a Scamander, so he must be Hufflepuff, right?"
Hearing the Ravenclaws' question, the badgers reacted as though someone had flipped a switch.
They immediately launched into full propaganda mode, enthusiastically telling their eagle classmates everything.
Pure Hufflepuff lineage.
Entered school and immediately publicly denounced Slytherin's blood purity nonsense.
After being targeted by Slytherin upper-years, gave the legendary "Pub Speech" in the Hufflepuff common room and led the house in open rebellion.
By fourth year, had personally led Hufflepuff to crush Slytherin three times—the final time literally trapping them in their own common room fountain for half a day.
Unfortunately, this legendary Hufflepuff ultimately fell to the sinister schemes of surviving Death Eater sympathisers and was forced to withdraw from Hogwarts.
After expulsion, studied under his grandfather—the equally legendary Hufflepuff wizard Newt Scamander.
Travelled the world in Newt's footsteps—rescuing magical creatures, battling poachers.
During this time, published Magical Creatures Here and the even more infamous Magical Creatures in the Stomach.
Earned honours and recognitions from multiple Ministries of Magic.
Watching their Hufflepuff friends rattle off this biography like they'd rehearsed it a thousand times, Cedric could only stare in stunned silence.
Wait… you guys are way too practiced at this.
He'd been planning to casually mention his father's extremely high opinion of Professor Viktor—just to make sure the Ravenclaws didn't carry over their Lockhart disappointment.
But now? Clearly unnecessary.
He'd been overthinking it.