Hogwarts’ White Lord

RIP MAGGIE SMITH! 

I'm certain she is in heaven, spending her time relaxing with her friends. She was a legend, and legends never die. ♥

.....

Also, my little brother said that maybe she transmigrated into the HP world as Professor McGonagall for real and I believe my lil bro on this. 

____________

"Ah!"

At that moment, a student stumbled and knocked over a row of flower pots nearby.

The next moment, a series of crackling sounds echoed through the greenhouse.

The student's face turned pale as Professor Sprout and a group of young wizards turned around.

"WooOOOoooo WooOOOoooo!!!"

Before anyone could react, a piercing scream rang out.

Everyone felt dizzy, and the glass on the roof of the greenhouse shattered. Suddenly, the young wizards clutched their heads in pain.

"Be quiet!"

Seeing this, Ivan quickly stepped forward and pressed his palm against the source of the deafening noise on the ground before Professor Sprout could even draw her wand.

He didn't cast any specific spell; he simply cut off the raging magic.

This strange and terrifying sound wave was a type of magic that Ivan hadn't encountered in any of his books. It wasn't a traditional spell, but rather something engraved within the peculiar plant lying on the ground.

'Triggered by a mechanism,' Ivan realized, and was able to use his own magic to disrupt the magic within the plant and force it to stop.

While it sounded simple, it was incredibly difficult to execute.

Most people would never have an eye capable of perceiving the microscopic world and the traces of magic at such a deep level.

"Oh!!"

The scream of the Mandrake stopped abruptly, which made Professor Sprout pause, her hand still holding her wand.

The Hufflepuff Head of House quickly checked on the students' condition. Seeing that everyone was fine, just a bit dizzy from the noise, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Child? You.."

Sprout noticed Ivan. It was this student who had stopped the chaos just moments ago.

The Mandrakes in the Hogwarts greenhouse were still in the early stages of cultivation. Their screams were terrifying and could cause fainting if prolonged, but they weren't lethal.

But even so, Sprout didn't want to see her students sent to the hospital wing during their very first class.

"My name is Ivan, Ivan Ambrosius, professor."

"Oh, Mr. Ambrosius."

Professor Sprout's eyes were filled with admiration and gratitude. "Thanks to you, no one got hurt. Gryffindor, twenty points!"

Hua La La~~

After her announcement, the students who understood what had just happened applauded Ivan warmly.

Professor Sprout did not scold the student who had caused the disturbance. She gently placed the inexplicably quiet Mandrake back into its pot. "This is a Mandrake. You'll learn about this magical plant in your second year."

She explained the habits and dangers of Mandrakes to the students and expressed her gratitude to Ivan once more.

"Ivan, how did you do that?"

Hermione didn't understand at all what Ivan had done. He merely stretched out his hand and said a word, and the Mandrake immediately calmed down.

Ivan didn't hide anything from Hermione, but the magical theory he explained was too advanced for her to fully grasp.

In the end, Hermione could only attribute it to Ivan's unique magical talent, which made the little witch quite envious.

Professor Sprout and the other first-year students overheard their conversation as well, and Sprout in particular was quite shocked by Ivan's theory of magical nodes.

Later that night, after Ivan and his classmates had attended the history of magic class—a subject notoriously known as the most boring at Hogwarts—it seemed that Professor Binns, the ghost lecturer, had taken the boredom of history to new heights.

Ivan had never experienced such a dull class in his life.

While Ivan and the others were struggling through their evening class, Sprout went to find McGonagall.

"Minerva," she called out.

Sprout, the Head of Hufflepuff, and McGonagall, the Head of Gryffindor, had always shared a good relationship.

"Pomona?" McGonagall looked at Sprout curiously. "What's the matter?"

"The new student in your house," Sprout said, sounding a little excited. "I've never seen a young wizard with such talent."

"You're talking about..."

McGonagall's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Ivan?"

"Yes, Ivan Ambrosius,"

Professor Sprout was filled with envy: "He protected the students in my class, and I gave him 20 points for that!"

It was astonishing that Ivan had been able to calm the Mandrake with just one word.

Additionally, during the lesson, Sprout noticed that Ivan had a remarkable affinity with plants—the flowers and plants in the greenhouse seemed to adore the child.

"Aha~~"

Upon hearing this, Professor McGonagall's face lit up with joy. The older cat lady spoke with a trace of pride in her voice: "That child is a natural-born great wizard."

"???"

Professor Sprout was puzzled until McGonagall explained Ivan's background.

"Merlin's beard!" Sprout exclaimed, "I always thought that was just a legend."

Professor Sprout couldn't help but feel McGonagall's incredible luck. She had gone out to guide two freshmen and ended up discovering such extraordinary talents as Ivan and Hermione.

Yes, Hermione had left a strong impression on Sprout as well.

No matter what question Sprout asked, Hermione was the first to raise her hand, always providing the correct answer.

"Ahem."

McGonagall coughed lightly, suppressing her pride: "You have to understand, Pomona, the Sorting Hat is very good at finding the right traits in children~"

Sprout felt as though she had just swallowed a lemon.

The last time the Sorting Hat placed the Weasley twins in Gryffindor, hadn't McGonagall herself grumbled about the hat deliberately targeting her?

Luckily, it was Sprout who brought this up, and the head of Hufflepuff House was merely envious.

If it had been Flitwick, he might have dragged McGonagall to the Sorting Hat to demand an explanation on the spot.

After the History of Magic class, Ivan parted ways with Hermione. He asked the little witch to help feed Yuumi, then headed toward the floor where the headmaster's office was located.

"Sherbet lemon."

After saying the password, the gargoyle statue moved aside, allowing Ivan to ascend the stairs and knock on the door of the headmaster's office.

"Headmaster."

The office looked just the same as it had the last time Ivan visited, though it felt slightly more spacious...?

Dumbledore was pacing behind his desk, a habit he indulged in every night. He liked to circle his desk alone, lost in thought.

"How was your first day?"

Dumbledore didn't project the image of the world's greatest white wizard in front of Ivan. Instead, he appeared more like a kindly elder, warm and approachable.

"It was great," Ivan smiled. "Except for the History of Magic, you know... Cuthbert Binns's class is a bit..."

"Haha~ I understand," Dumbledore chuckled. "I asked myself the same question when I was a student."

Dumbledore then added with a twinkle in his eye, "Perhaps it's because ghosts don't get a salary?"