The staff lounge was a long room with wooden panels lining the walls. In the center stood a few wooden tables and wardrobes.

  At the moment, three or four professors were seated around the long table on the left side of the lounge. Among them was a retively young wizard, Professor Charity Burbage of Muggle Studies, and the eldest of the group, the ever-loquacious Professor Kettleburn.

  This particur professor had led quite a legendary life.

  Silvanus Kettleburn, the Hogwarts professor of Care of Magical Creatures, had, over his tenure, been pced on probation sixty-two times and had lost one hand and 1.5 legs in the process.

  The wooden leg he currently wore had been a gift from Headmaster Dumbledore two years prior, supposedly in recognition of Kettleburn’s recent restraint in teaching methods—though many suspected that, given he now had only one and a half limbs left, leading a calmer life was simply his only remaining option.

  Nonetheless, Professor Kettleburn remained as spirited as ever.

  “…What? You’re asking about Fluffy?”

  He gnced at the professor beside him and said, “Oh, that was the three-headed dog Hagrid raised a couple of years ago. I must say, it was rather well-trained. If Albus hadn’t insisted on borrowing it, Hagrid and I had pnned to release it into the Forbidden Forest.”

  Kettleburn sighed dramatically, as if deeply regretful, eliciting a round of dry chuckles from the other professors.

  Good thing they didn’t.

  Otherwise, the Forbidden Forest would have been completely off-limits.

  Their expressions made this sentiment abundantly clear.

  It was at this moment that Victor entered the staff lounge. Upon seeing him, Professor Kettleburn’s eyes lit up, and he greeted him enthusiastically.

  “Well, if it isn’t Professor Victor! Last time I saw you was at the Start-of-Term Feast.”

  “That’s right. Good afternoon, Professor Kettleburn.”

  Victor nodded in acknowledgment.

  “Oh, just call me Silvanus—unless you find that harder to pronounce than my surname, in which case, call me whatever you like.” Kettleburn grinned. “This here is Professor Erik Philemon, who teaches Alchemy, and of course, you already know Professor Burbage from Muggle Studies.”

  “Oh, yes,” Professor Burbage smiled warmly at Victor, seeming to hold a favorable impression of him. “I sat a few seats away from you at the feast and overheard some of your conversation with Quirrell. It’s nice to know you also believe Muggles shouldn’t be discriminated against.”

  “Of course.”

  Victor shook hands with her and exchanged greetings with Professor Philemon—the person he had actually come to find.

  However, before he could speak to Philemon, Professor Kettleburn had already pulled him over to the table, bringing him into the ongoing conversation.

  At the same time, Kettleburn pushed a pte of biscuits toward him. Every professor at the table had one in hand, including Philemon.

  Though, curiously, none of them seemed to have eaten much. The only one bearing a bite mark was Kettleburn’s own.

  The biscuits were brown, looking somewhat hard but not necessarily unpleasant—at least, the cracks on their surface seemed evenly formed.

  Thinking they wouldn’t be too bad, Victor picked one up.

  Seeing him take a biscuit, Kettleburn looked pleased, as if the gesture had brought them closer, and immediately pulled him into their conversation.

  “Victor, I heard from the students that you were with Severus st night. Do you know why Fluffy suddenly snapped at him? I thought Hagrid had trained it fairly well.”

  Victor shook his head.

  “I don’t know much,” he said, bringing the biscuit to his mouth. “Severus went there alone. By the time we arrived, he was already down by the door on the fourth floor, but he still insisted on going with us to check on the troll—seems he suspected the whole thing was intentional.”

  “I see… Severus really has been diligent this year.”

  Kettleburn looked like he wanted to gossip but, for some reason, restrained himself, leaving the other two professors visibly curious.

  But just as Victor was about to take a bite, Philemon suddenly spoke up.

  “Oh, right—just be careful not to bite down too hard, or—”

  Crack!

  A loud, crisp sound rang out from Victor’s biscuit, akin to breaking a rock in half.

  The other professors froze immediately.

  ?

  Victor gnced at Philemon, who had suddenly gone stiff, and then took a bite of the biscuit—chewing with complete ease, as though it were any ordinary snack. Only, as his teeth ground against the biscuit’s surface, it emitted two deep, crunching sounds.

  It was the kind of noise one would expect to hear when bones were being crushed to powder.

  The other professors stared bnkly as Victor finished his bite, their eyes flickering to the biscuit in his hand, which now bore a sizable missing chunk—nearly a third of its original size.

  A few seconds ter—

  “You… you actually swallowed that? That’s one of Hagrid’s Rock-Skin Biscuits!”

  Professor Kettleburn gaped at him for a solid few seconds, then shot another incredulous gnce at the pte of biscuits on the table.

  “They’re called Rock-Skin Biscuits? How fitting,” Victor remarked calmly. “The outer yer is quite crisp, and the sugar crystals inside blend well with the flour. Overall, it’s not bad—just a little tough on the outside.”

  “A little tough?”

  Professor Burbage raised her voice slightly. “My teeth still hurt from trying one earlier—it was no different from gnawing on the table!”

  “You really didn’t use any magic on your teeth?” Philemon asked.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  Victor exchanged a silent gnce with the other professors, until all four of them saw the same look of confusion mirrored in each other’s eyes.

  After a moment—

  “Hagrid is going to love you. You absolutely must visit the hunting grounds sometime.”

  Professor Kettleburn regarded Victor with newfound admiration.

  "But come to think of it, Viktor, you seem to be a bit picky with food every time you eat. I remember at the opening feast, you only ate things that were either extremely sour or extremely sweet. At the time, I thought maybe Albus had been a bad influence on you. But now that I think about it..."

  "What about it?"

  "Oh, nothing, of course! It's just quite interesting," Professor Kettleburn quickly waved his hand.

  "I suddenly remembered—magical creatures like dragons and Vee tend to favor foods with extreme fvors. Other creatures cssified at XXXXX-level show simir tendencies... During my research, I found that this might be because their sensory perception differs from that of human wizards. It’s likely an innate trait caused by their magic."

  "You know, young wizards experience magical outbursts before they can properly use magic, but dragons are born with it. We even determine the future size of a Hungarian Horntail based on the intensity of its fire-breathing at birth."

  As Kettleburn spoke, he seemed to get lost in his own thoughts. After a few seconds, he chuckled and said,

  "Who knows? Maybe you have dragon or some other magical creature's blood in you, Viktor."

  "......"

  Viktor didn’t respond immediately.

  His expression remained as bnk as ever. For some reason, however, Professor Burbage had the odd feeling that he seemed even colder than when he had first entered—

  But after studying Viktor’s hollow, bck eyes and the pale, expressionless line of his lips, she began to think it was just her imagination.

  Professor Philemon couldn’t help but interject with a scoff, "A dragon? That’s impossible. No one would do something like that. If anything, a vampire seems like the more likely possibility."

  "But vampire teeth are hollow. Since they mostly consume liquids, their teeth aren’t particurly strong," Professor Kettleburn said with a hearty ugh. "If a vampire bit into this rock-hard scone, their mouth would be full of blood, and they wouldn’t be able to eat for half a year."

  "Oh—apologies, Viktor. We didn’t mean to imply anything—it was just a joke."

  "It’s fine," Viktor replied coolly, nodding slightly at Professor Kettleburn, looking completely unbothered.

  Seeing this, Kettleburn and the other two professors quickly moved on from the topic and resumed their discussion about Snape and Fluffy.

  Although Snape was the Potions Master, everyone knew he was exceptionally skilled in the Dark Arts, so they were all curious as to how he had gotten bitten.

  Their final conclusion was that Snape had held back. After all, he didn’t want to kill Fluffy, nor did he want to harm it, which meant that most of the spells he was proficient in had been rendered useless.

  After all, was there even such a thing as a Dark Arts spell that didn’t cause harm?

  However, throughout the conversation, Viktor remained silent, which made the professors slightly uneasy. They worried that their earlier remarks had been too careless and that Viktor might have felt offended. After all, the wizarding world wasn’t particurly known for treating non-human beings with respect.

  Fortunately, just as their discussion was wrapping up, Viktor suddenly spoke again.

  "Speaking of alchemy, I actually have a question for you, Professor Philemon."

  "Of course, no problem!"

  "......But did we ever mention alchemy?"

  ---

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