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Chapter 23: The First Day of Classes
🕑 Added 2025-02-13 05:30:02 +0000 UTCSeverus awoke to the faint murmurs of hushed voices outside his dorm.
His duel from the day before had already spread through the school. The moment he stepped into the 6th-year common room, several students turned to look at him. Some nodded in respect, others whispered among themselves.
Alessandro—of course—was thriving in the attention.
“Shafiq, my dear friend,” Alessandro called dramatically from across the room, grinning like a lunatic. He had already draped himself over a couch, his uniform still half-buttoned and slightly disheveled, like he had just woken up in someone else’s bed.
“Word on the street is, you’ve successfully terrified half the school.”
Severus ignored him and went to pour himself a cup of coffee.
Aurora Sinclair, the sharp-eyed Horned Serpent, smirked as she passed by. “You realize this means you’ll have to keep proving yourself, right?”
Severus merely took a sip of his coffee.
He had no intention of losing.
The Potions classroom at Ilvermorny was nothing like Hogwarts’ cold, stone dungeons.
Large, sunlit windows overlooked the mountains. Rows of cauldrons were equipped with self-regulating heat charms. The air was filled with the scent of fresh ingredients, instead of the usual dungeon dampness he was used to.
Severus took his seat, eyeing the professor—a woman in her late forties, with streaks of silver in her black hair and the steady hands of someone who had spent a lifetime brewing.
“Professor Langford,” Alessandro whispered beside him. “Strict but brilliant. Hates when people waste her time.”
Langford’s sharp eyes scanned the class.
“This is Advanced Potions, not a beginner’s course,” she said. “You will not just follow recipes—you will modify them, refine them, and, if necessary, break them.”
Severus was intrigued.
At Hogwarts, Slughorn had focused on memorization and precision. Here, Langford wanted experimentation.
“Today’s task,” she continued, waving her wand. The board filled with a basic recipe for a Healing Potion. “Modify this potion to make it stronger, faster, or longer-lasting. No instructions, just results.”
Students immediately got to work.
Severus analyzed the ingredients, considering variations in timing and stirring methods. He instinctively adjusted for efficiency.
Alessandro, to Severus’s mild horror, dropped an ingredient without measuring it.
Severus stiffened. “What are you doing?”
“Relax, Shafiq. I know what I’m doing.”
To his annoyance, the potion did not explode—it actually gained a richer consistency.
Langford walked by, observing their cauldron. She raised a brow. “Interesting. You deviated from the standard formula, and it worked.”
She turned to Severus. “Hogwarts teaches you to follow the rules. Here, we teach you how to break them intelligently.”
Severus smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
At Hogwarts, Flitwick had been an excellent Charms professor, but the focus had always been on structured spellwork.
Ilvermorny?
Completely different.
Charms were taught in motion, rather than through repetitive practice. Students were encouraged to test the limits of their spells, seeing how much variation they could apply. Instead of desks, the classroom had open space, resembling a spell dueling arena.
Professor Silas Graves was intimidating—tall, silver-haired, and sharp-eyed like a hawk.
“This is not just Charms,” he announced. “This is Applied Spellcasting. If you cannot modify a charm in real-time, then you do not truly understand it.”
He waved his wand. A quill hovered in midair.
“Wingardium Leviosa?” he prompted.
A few students murmured the incantation.
The quill rose slowly.
Graves snapped his fingers. “Wrong.”
The quill shot forward instead of up, flipping unpredictably.
The students blinked.
“Magic is alive,” Graves said. “Rigid spellwork is fragile spellwork. Learn to adapt, or fail.”
Severus was fascinated.
At Hogwarts, spells had been taught as absolute constructs. Here, they were seen as flexible and adaptable.
When paired with Aurora Sinclair for practice, he quickly grasped the differences.
He adjusted the angle of his wand, controlling the force of levitation rather than simply making an object float. He experimented with speed—modifying a Summoning Charm to bring objects faster or slower. Instead of focusing just on pronunciation, he adjusted intent, seeing how magic responded.
Aurora, watching him, smirked. “You catch on fast.”
Severus gave a rare nod of acknowledgment.
Ancient Runes had always fascinated Severus.
At Hogwarts, the subject was academic—translations, meanings, historical context.
At Ilvermorny?
It was alive.
Instead of just reading runes, students were expected to activate them. Wand movements and intent played a role in unlocking hidden magical properties. The class was structured like a workshop, with each student receiving a sealed scroll containing runes that needed to be decoded in real-time.
Professor Maeve Holloway set a sealed, rune-covered scroll in front of each student.
“No wands,” she instructed. “No notes. Just instinct.”
Severus traced the runes with his fingers, letting magic guide him.
His instincts clicked before he realized what was happening.
Without thinking, he murmured an incantation.
The scroll unfolded itself, glowing with hidden text.
Holloway tilted her head, intrigued.
“You cast that instinctively,” she observed. “Not from memory.”
Severus frowned. “Is that… unusual?”
Holloway smiled faintly. “Very.”
She studied him for a moment longer, then walked away.
Severus had the distinct feeling that she would be watching him closely.
Unlike the chaotic, informal duel with Damian Connors, Ilvermorny’s Dueling Class was structured and strategic.
Professor Leonard Callahan, an ex-MACUSA battle mage, observed the students with the precision of a trained soldier.
“Many of you believe dueling is about power and aggression,” he said, glancing at Damian, who smirked.
“That is a mistake.”
His gaze landed on Severus. “Shafiq. Show them.”
Severus stepped forward.
His opponent? Evie Sterling.
A Wampus duelist. Fast. Unpredictable. Reckless.
The duel began.
Evie moved first—fast and aggressive. Severus sidestepped instead of blocking, redirecting her momentum. Instead of overpowering her, he baited her into overextending—then struck.
A well-placed Petrificus Totalus, and Evie froze mid-motion.
The class murmured in admiration.
Callahan nodded approvingly. “A duelist who fights with his mind. Well done.”
Evie, once released, laughed breathlessly. “Alright, fine. You’re terrifying.”
Severus smirked.
Though Potions, Charms, Dueling, and Ancient Runes had been the highlights of the day, Severus had also attended a full schedule of other subjects, each reinforcing the unique teaching style of Ilvermorny.
Transfiguration – Practical, not theoretical.
Unlike McGonagall’s strict, structured approach, Ilvermorny’s method was more experimental. Students were encouraged to figure out new ways to transform objects, rather than just following existing spells.
Today’s task? Find an innovative way to transfigure an inanimate object into a moving one without using a pre-learned spell.
Severus found it frustratingly open-ended, but also intriguing.
Magical History – More than just memorization.
At Hogwarts, Binns droned endlessly about past events. Here, the subject was interactive. Professor Hammond led debates, forcing students to defend different historical perspectives.
Today’s discussion? The ethical consequences of Rappaport’s Law and its impact on magical secrecy in America.
Severus wasn’t used to debating history—he had always just been expected to memorize it.
Astronomy – Magic Beyond the Stars.
Less about charting stars and more about understanding their influence on magic.
Lunar phases, planetary alignments, and their effect on spellcasting—a concept Hogwarts barely touched on. Severus had never considered that his own spellwork could be subtly affected by celestial movements.
Herbology – A Living Science.
No greenhouses here—Ilvermorny students studied magical plants in a real forest.
Their first lesson involved identifying indigenous magical flora and how they differed from European species. Severus had to admit—learning in the field, rather than from inside a greenhouse, made a difference.
By the end of the day, one thing was clear—everything about Ilvermorny was designed to challenge traditional learning methods.
By the time Severus returned to the 6th-year common room, his mind was buzzing.
Ilvermorny was nothing like Hogwarts.
Magic was fluid, adaptable, and constantly shifting.
Classes were designed to force creativity, not just memorization.
Dueling wasn’t about raw strength—it was about precision, control, and intelligence.
Hogwarts had taught him rigid structure. Ilvermorny was forcing him to think beyond that.
He wasn’t just learning new magic—he was unlearning limitations.
And for the first time in years, he felt challenged.
Severus barely had time to process the day before Alessandro threw himself onto the couch beside him, sighing dramatically.
“Merlin’s beard, what a day.”
Severus shot him a flat look. “You barely did anything.”
“Excuse me, I cast at least five spells.”
“Wrong,” Kiera interjected from across the room, stretching her arms over the back of her chair. “You flirted with at least five people. That’s not the same thing.”
Alessandro placed a hand on his chest. “Flirting is an art. You wouldn’t understand.”
Evie Sterling smirked, flipping her hair as she sprawled onto a beanbag. “Says the guy who got hexed by a fifth-year for trying to ‘appreciate her aesthetic’ in the hallway.”
“That was a misunderstanding.”
“Sure,” Aurora Sinclair drawled, sipping her tea. “And you definitely didn’t deserve it.”
Alessandro groaned, slumping further into the couch. “You’re all against me.”
Severus almost smirked. Almost.
Jonas, the Pukwudgie healer-in-training, shook his head. “I still can’t believe you signed Severus up for that duel before classes even started.”
Ben Hale, the hex master of Wampus, chuckled. “Bold move, but I gotta admit—it paid off.”
Evie grinned at Severus. “You wrecked Connors.”
Severus took a slow sip of his tea. “He was… predictable.”
Kiera laughed. “Damn, Connors is gonna hate that.”
Aurora leaned forward. “So, what’s your impression so far, Shafiq?”
Severus considered for a moment before answering. “Different.”
Jonas snorted. “Understatement of the year.”
Alessandro nudged Severus with his elbow. “You know, compagno, I think you might actually fit in here.”
Severus tilted his head slightly, considering the words.
For the first time, he thought… maybe he did.
