I hope you all enjoyed the classes so far, there will be a couple more before we take a break from learning to return to a bit of plot. Let me know if you enjoy the class style! This chapter, I'm expanding on the lore a bit. Had a lot of fun doing it!
Happy Reading
Chapter 11 - The Best Class Yet
Maxximus woke up to the soft light filtering through the windows of his dormitory. He stretched and sat up, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness for the day ahead. He reached for the color-coded schedule Hermione had created for him and carefully unfolded it on his bed.
He traced the colorful lines with his finger. "Grey, yellow, red. That's History of Magic, Herbology, and Transfiguration before lunch," he muttered to himself. Determined not to repeat the previous day's embarrassment in Potions, he headed to his bookcase and selected books based on their cover pictures, hoping they were the right ones.
The first book he picked up had an intricate golden design on the cover, depicting a wand crossed with a book. He guessed this was for his history class. Next, he reached for a book with a vibrant green cover adorned with illustrations of various plants and fungi. This had to be for Herbology. Finally, he picked a slender book with a silver emblem of a wand transforming into a star, likely for Transfiguration. He hesitated when he saw another book with a similar cover to the history one but with slightly different symbols. This book had a complex design featuring a stylized pentagram surrounded by swirling magical runes. The cover was dark blue, almost black, and it had an air of mystery about it. He opted to take this book instead and left the first one on his shelf.
He took out the detention slip from Snape's class and decided to ask Hermione to clarify its contents. Maxximus dressed quickly, grabbing his wand and the selected books. He took a moment to steady himself, determined not to let his lack of reading skills hinder him today. He placed the detention slip carefully in his pocket, hoping Hermione could help him understand it.
Maxximus made his way through the bustling corridors of Hogwarts, the castle coming alive with the chatter and movement of students preparing for the day. The Great Hall was already filled with the warm aroma of breakfast. He entered, feeling a comforting sense of routine starting to settle in.
He grabbed a seat at the Sphinkus table, which was notably empty. He was the only student in his house, making the table feel large and somewhat lonely. He quickly filled his plate with a hearty breakfast, knowing he would need the energy for the classes ahead. He glanced around, observing other students and their books, trying to gauge if he had chosen his own correctly.
As he ate, his mind wandered back to the previous day's Potions class. Snape's cold gaze and the humiliation of not being able to read his textbook weighed heavily on him. He clenched his fists momentarily, determined not to let it happen again.
After finishing his meal, Maxximus spotted Hermione and hurried to catch up with her. She was walking briskly, her bag slung over one shoulder, and a book already in her hand.
"Morning, Hermione," Maxximus greeted her, slightly out of breath. "Can you help me with something?"
"Of course, Maxximus," she replied with a warm smile, putting her book away.
Maxximus handed her the detention slip. Hermione took it and read it, her brow furrowing. "It says you have detention with Professor Snape on Saturday evening at 7 PM," she explained. "That's not right! Your first weekend at Hogwarts in detention."
Maxximus sighed internally, thinking about how this detention would clash with his time to study the Sphinkus Chronicle with the Praetor. He nodded to Hermione, keeping his thoughts to himself. "Thanks, Hermione," he said, managing a small smile.
As they walked together, Maxximus noticed how different Hogwarts was from his village. The towering walls, the ancient tapestries, and the magical ambiance made everything feel both overwhelming and wondrous. He couldn't help but feel a bit lost.
"By the way," Hermione said, glancing at him. "Professor McGonagall mentioned that I'll be helping you with reading. I love books and learning, so if you ever need help, just ask."
Maxximus felt a wave of gratitude. "Thank you, Hermione. I really appreciate it. I'm still trying to get used to everything here."
"No problem," Hermione replied warmly. "We'll start whenever you're ready. For now, let's get to History of Magic."
Maxximus and Hermione approached the History of Magic classroom, and the conversation shifted to their expectations for the class.
"I've heard Professor Binns is quite the character," Hermione said. "A ghost teaching history is rather fitting, don't you think?"
Maxximus nodded, though he was curious to see how a ghost could effectively teach a class. He felt a mix of anticipation and apprehension as they reached the classroom door. From the outside, it looked like any other classroom at Hogwarts, with its sturdy wooden door and castle walls.
Maxximus and Hermione pushed the heavy oak door open, only to find a scene unlike any they had expected. The classroom was arranged like an amphitheater, with tiered seating allowing all students a clear view. At the bottom of the amphitheater, students were huddled together, murmuring in confusion and amazement. The room had an ancient, grand feel with columns, statues, and magical artifacts displayed around. It was hard to believe this was inside Hogwarts Castle.
Maxximus and Hermione joined the group of students standing at the bottom of the amphitheater, Maxximus feeling curious and a bit apprehensive about what to expect. He glanced around, noticing the detailed carvings on the columns and the historical artifacts displayed around the room. It was clear to him that history was a subject taken seriously at Hogwarts.
"Where's Professor Binns?" a Ravenclaw student whispered, glancing around the room. The question rippled through the group, everyone looking equally puzzled.
Suddenly, the ghostly figure of the Praetor walked through the wall, his form gaining colour and substance, appearing nearly alive. The room fell silent as the Praetor stood before them. Murmurs of surprise and confusion rippled through the room as the students realized this was not Professor Binns.
"Welcome, students. Praetor Virinius Sphinkus at your service, your guide through the annals of magical history. The headmaster, in his wisdom, deemed my experiences and perspective worthy to enhance your understanding of this noble subject."
With a wave of his hand, the room began to transform. The stone walls softened into white marble, columns grew and stretched upward, and the room took on the appearance of an ancient Greek agora. The students gasped as they saw the changes unfold. The marble walls then evolved, morphing into the grand arches and frescoes of a Roman forum. Statues of historical figures lined the walls, and the room felt charged with the energy of the past.
The transformation didn't stop there. The Roman architecture slowly transitioned to Byzantine with intricate mosaics, then to Gothic with pointed arches and stained-glass windows. The final shift brought them into the grandeur of the Renaissance, with elaborate tapestries and ornate woodwork. The room then morphed back into the amphitheater, retaining elements from each era, creating a blend of historical grandeur.
"History is not merely a record of dates and events, but the lifeblood of our magical heritage. By understanding our past, we gain the wisdom to navigate our present and the foresight to shape our future."
At his words, the students rushed to find seats, forming a semi-circle at the base of the amphitheater. The initial confusion gave way to eager anticipation as they settled into their places. Maxximus and Hermione found seats near the middle, ready to absorb the lesson. The Praetor's eyes scanned the room, noticing the students taking out their textbooks and parchment. He raised a hand, commanding their attention.
"Put away your tomes," the Praetor declared, his voice echoing through the hall. "Here, such objects are but trifles."
The students exchanged puzzled glances. Hermione, ever the diligent student, looked particularly dismayed as she reluctantly closed her book. Some Ravenclaws, known for their love of knowledge, mirrored her concern. A few Gryffindors appeared relieved, happy to avoid the usual notetaking.
Maxximus felt a surge of relief. Not needing a book was a small victory, easing one of his worries. This announcement added another layer of intrigue to his day.
"This is no common history lesson," the Praetor continued, his voice resonating with the gravitas of a seasoned general. "Your tomes, filled with dates and names, lack the very soul of the events themselves. Here, you shall learn not merely to recite facts, but to grasp the essence, to feel the fervor, to comprehend the gravitas of the moments that forged our world."
A Revenclaw student raised a skeptical eyebrow. "So, what will we be learning then, if not from the books?"
"You shall bear witness to history," the Praetor responded, his tone both commanding and enigmatic. "You shall see the past breathe anew before your eyes. Through these visions, you shall glean deeper wisdoms than any tome could bestow. Prepare yourselves to see, to feel, to know the true weight of our magical heritage."
The students settled in, curiosity piqued and expectations high.
"Now, we shall delve into a pivotal moment in our magical history," he began, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. "The Battle of Druids and Romans. This clash was not merely of armies, but of cultures, magics, and destinies. It shaped the very fabric of magical Britain."
He paused; his spectral eyes glowing as he continued. "I was part of the Second Magical Legion, an expeditionary force sent by Rome to conquer the British Isles. We, the legionaries of Rome, wielded a magic rooted in structure, discipline, and control. Our spells were precise, our formations unwavering. We believed in the supremacy of our order, the strength of our unity." The pride of his own heritage bleeding through into his speech.
"But when we arrived on these shores," the Praetor continued, "we found that we were not the only wielders of magic. The land was inhabited by native magic users—the Druids. Their magic was ancient, wild, and deeply connected to the earth. Unlike our Roman order, their spells were woven with the very fabric of nature, calling upon the spirits of the land, the elements, and the ancient forces that predated even their own existence."
The room shifted again, this time to a battlefield with Druids and Roman wizards clashing in a magical duel. The Praetor narrated the event, highlighting key figures, strategies, and the impact of the battle on magical history. The students watched in awe, feeling the tension and significance of the moment.
"The Druids' magic was untamed, their rituals complex and mysterious," the Praetor explained. "They drew power from the earth itself, summoning storms, commanding animals, and wielding the elements as their allies. To them, magic was life, interwoven with the natural world in ways we Romans could scarcely comprehend."
The Roman wizards in the scene moved with military precision, their spells forming a disciplined barrage that met the wild, untamed magic of the Druids. "In contrast," the Praetor continued, "our Roman magic emphasized control, discipline, and the channeling of raw magical energy into precise forms. We believed that through order and structure, we could master the chaos of magic and bend it to our will."
"The clash of these two magical traditions inevitably led to conflict. The Druids saw us as invaders, disruptors of their sacred balance. To us, they were a force that needed to be subdued, brought under the yoke of Roman order. And so, war became inevitable—a war not just of soldiers and spells, but of ideologies and ways of life."
The students watched in awe as the scene played out before them. The Druids chanted, their voices resonating with the power of nature. Trees bent and swayed under their command, roots erupted from the ground, and animals joined their ranks. The Romans responded with precision, their swords emitting bright, controlled bursts of magic that countered the Druidic forces.
"Behold," the Praetor said, his voice resonating through the transformed room, "the clash of Druids and Romans. A battle that would shape the future of magical Britain."
The students remained captivated, the vivid reenactment making history feel immediate and relevant.
"Ultimately, the discipline and coordination of the Roman forces overwhelmed the Druids," the Praetor continued. "The Druids, realizing their defeat, fled to the hills, preserving their traditions in secret."
The battlefield began to dissolve, and the room shifted back to the amphitheater. The Praetor stood before the students, his glowing eyes scanning their faces.
"What did you observe in the clash between these two magical sides?" he asked, his voice commanding their attention.
A Ravenclaw student raised her hand. "There are no wands!"
The Praetor nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Indeed. The Druids' wooden staffs channeled magic well and allowed for powerful feats. However, they were unwieldy and required great effort. The Roman swords, enchanted for both combat and magic, were far easier to manipulate and produced deadly concentrated results."
The student followed up, "But why does no one use wands? I thought wands were essential for casting magic."
The Praetor smiled in earnest, anticipating the question. "In those days, the forms and tools of magic were diverse. The Druids' staffs and the Romans' enchanted swords were both effective channels of magical power. The use of wands as the primary tool for casting spells evolved later."
He paused, a nostalgic look crossing his features. "My friend, Gaius Ollivander," eyes widened at the mention of the familiar surname, "was once a magical smith. He forged many enchanted weapons and tools. However, he saw the potential for a more versatile instrument, one that could combine the power and precision of both staffs and swords. Thus, he created the wand, a perfect fusion of both. The wand became the standard because it offered the power of a staff and the ease of use of a sword, making it the ideal tool for all manner of spells." As the Praetor spoke, Hermione's brow furrowed, she remembered that Ollivander's was established in 382AD, yet the Praetor was alive with the Founders of Hogwarts. She tabled the thought, nonetheless, enraptured by the new lecturer.
"The Roman Faction would continue to shape Magical Britain for many years to come, for better or for worse it is for each of you to ascertain. As such, your assignment for this night is to prepare talking points speculating some present-day impacts of Roman occupation in Magical Britain." He paused, scanning the class.
"I will not be seizing written work. Some of you will be called upon at random to deliver your discussion. Those who are diligent will receive points and active participation will enhance your learning. To those who are not…" Another pause to allow the gravitas of his statement to carry. "You will find your experience shameful and will lose points for your houses. Have I made myself clear?" The authority in his tone caused all students to sit straight and respond in chorus.
"Yes, Praetor Sphinkus!"
"Good. As we move forward in our studies," the Praetor said, his voice softening, "remember that history is not just a record of what has been, but a guide for what may come. Learn from it, and let it shape your path."
With those final words, the Praetor marched back through the wall, leaving the students inspired and eager for the next lesson. Maxximus felt a surge of excitement and determination, these lessons were just like home. He could do well here all on his own. Momentarily, the classroom shifted back into the original layout typical of the Hogwarts Castle.
Whispers could be heard from the students as they prepared to leave for their next class before lunch.
"How did he do that? Ghosts can't do magic."
"Those battles, it was like being in a film."
"What's a film?"
"If that's the power of the ghost of a Founder, he must've been right scary alive."
The general sentiment of awe and fascination filled Maxximus with a deep sense of pride. This was his ancestor. This is what it meant to be a Sphinkus.
As the students began to file out of the classroom, Ron Weasley, Seamus Finnigan, and a couple of Ravenclaw students approached Maxximus, their faces alight with curiosity.
"Hey, Maxximus," Ron started, looking a bit sheepish. "That was bloody brilliant! I mean... he's something else."
Seamus nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, mate. Is it true he's related to ye? Reckon he's stronger than Dumbledore?"
Maxximus felt a flush rise to his cheeks. "Well, yes, he was my ancestor, but... I don't really know much about his power or anything. I just found out about him recently myself."
A Ravenclaw girl with long dark hair, whose name he couldn't remember, chimed in. "But if he was so powerful, does that mean you have his power too? Can you do all that stuff he showed us?"
Maxximus shifted uncomfortably, not sure how to answer. "I... I don't think so. I'm still learning basic spells." That earned a small look of disappointment from the girl.
The Ravenclaw boy next to her, Michael Corner, asked, "And why was he teaching our class? Is he always around? It was like he was almost... alive."
Maxximus shook his head. "I don't really know. He just appears sometimes. It's all still new to me."
Ron, noticing Maxximus' discomfort, tried to lighten the mood. "Well, it must be pretty wicked having a relative like that? Wish I had someone like him in my family."
Seamus grinned. "Right, all I've got is a bunch of leprechauns."
Despite Ron and Seamus's attempts to be friendly, the questions kept coming, and Maxximus started to feel overwhelmed. He wasn't sure how to explain something he didn't fully understand himself. Just as the situation began to feel too much, Hermione appeared by his side.
"Maxximus," she said firmly, "we need to get to Herbology. We don't want to be late."
She shot a look at Ron and the others, her expression stern. "Come on, Maxximus. Let's go."
Maxximus felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Thanks, Hermione."
As they walked away, Harry caught up to them. He gave Maxximus a sympathetic smile. "I've been there too. When everyone's staring and asking questions, it can be a lot to handle. At least there isn't a reminder right on your face." At this he ran his hand over his hair to cover his scar further. Maxximus nodded, appreciating Harry's understanding. "Yeah, it can. Thanks, Harry."
Maxximus and the Gryffindors made their way from the History of Magic classroom to the greenhouses for Herbology where they were joined by the badger-crested Hufflepuffs. The walk was filled with lively conversation among the students, many still buzzing about the Praetor's lesson. Maxximus felt a sense of anticipation for the upcoming class. He had always been fascinated by plants and their magical properties, and Herbology seemed like it would be a familiar and comforting subject.
They entered Greenhouse One, where the first-year Herbology lessons were held. The greenhouse was warm and humid, filled with the earthy scent of soil and the fresh fragrance of various plants. Maxximus noticed the vibrant greenery and the assortment of magical plants that adorned the greenhouse. Long wooden tables were arranged in rows, each equipped with gardening tools and pots of soil.
Professor Sprout stood at the front of the greenhouse, her round face beaming with enthusiasm. She wore a wide-brimmed hat and had dirt smudges on her robes, giving her a practical, no-nonsense appearance. She welcomed each student with a nod and a smile as they found their places.
"Welcome, everyone, to your first Herbology class!" Professor Sprout called out, her voice filled with warmth. "Before we delve into today's lesson, let's go over some important greenhouse safety rules."
She gestured to the various tools and plants around the greenhouse. "Always wear your protective gloves when handling plants and tools. Be mindful of your surroundings, and never rush your work. Some plants can be quite delicate, and others might carry quite a bite."
The students listened attentively as Professor Sprout continued. "Herbology is not just about growing plants; it's about understanding the magical world around us. The knowledge you gain here will aid you in Potions, Healing, and even Defense Against the Dark Arts."
With a wave of her wand, pots containing small Dittany plants levitated from a nearby table and gently settled in front of each student. Maxximus felt a sense of excitement as he carefully placed his pot of Dittany on the table in front of him.
"Today, we'll be working with Dittany," Professor Sprout announced. "Dittany is a versatile plant with powerful healing properties. Its essence can heal cuts, burns, and other minor injuries almost instantly. Knowing how to care for and use Dittany is essential for any witch or wizard."
She began by demonstrating how to properly water the plant and trim its leaves. "Make sure the soil stays moist but not waterlogged," she instructed. "Trim any dead or damaged leaves to encourage healthy growth."
As the students followed her instructions, Professor Sprout continued to explain the importance of Herbology. "Plants are the foundation of many magical practices. They provide ingredients for potions, remedies, and even magical defenses. Understanding how to cultivate and care for these plants is a great start for young witches and wizards like yourselves."
Suddenly, a sharp cry interrupted her lecture. Justin Finch-Fletchley had accidentally cut himself deeply with a pair of pruning shears. Blood was streaming down his hand, and he looked pale with shock.
Maxximus, being the closest, reacted instinctively. He quickly grabbed a leaf from his Dittany plant, chewed it up and spat it onto Justin's wound.
Initially, some of the students looked disgusted. Zacharias Smith wrinkled his nose, "Did he just spit on him?"
Hannah Abbott's eyes widened, "That's... really gross." But as Justin's wound healed rapidly, the expressions of disgust turned into awe.
The entire class, including Professor Sprout, watched in stunned silence as Justin's hand healed before their eyes. Maxximus' swift action had not only stopped the bleeding but also demonstrated the potency of Dittany in a dramatic way.
Professor Sprout recovered first, her face breaking into a wide smile. "Excellent work, Maxximus! Ten points to Sphinkus for quick thinking and effective use of Dittany."
Justin looked at his healed hand in amazement. "Thanks, err… Maxximus. That was gross but cool. I'm Justin by the way." Extending his freshly healed hand.
"Maxx, nice to meet you. Here, let me wipe that off for you." Interpreting the outreached hand incorrectly and wiping off the chewed-up leaves instead.
Professor Sprout turned back to the class, using the incident as a teaching moment. "As you just witnessed, Dittany is incredibly practical. When applied correctly, it can heal wounds almost instantaneously. Normally, we extract the essence in a potion, but Maxximus showed us another effective, albeit unconventional method."
She continued to explain the properties of Dittany, now with a real-life example to highlight its importance. The students listened with renewed interest, the dramatic demonstration making the lesson far more engaging.
As the class drew to a close, Professor Sprout commended Maxximus once more. "Excellent work today, everyone. For your assignment, I want you to write in your Herbology journals about your observations and experiences with the Dittany plants and their healing properties."
The students began to pack up their things, chatting excitedly about what they had learned. Maxximus felt a sense of accomplishment and contentment. He had not only impressed his classmates and Professor Sprout but also potentially made a new friend in Justin.
As they left the greenhouse, Maxximus and Hermione walked together, discussing the class.
"That was brilliant, Maxximus," Hermione said, her expression a curious one. "How did you know that would work? It's not mentioned in 'One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.'"
Maxximus chuckled. "Back home, we don't always have access to potions and prepared remedies. My mother taught me that chewing Dittany leaves and applying them directly to a wound could help in emergencies."
Hermione's eyes widened. "That's fascinating! So, you learned a lot about plants and healing in your village?"
Maxximus nodded, smiling as he recalled a specific memory. "Yeah, there was this one time I was climbing a date palm tree to get some fruit. I slipped and ended up with a nasty cut on my leg. My mother, she chewed up some Dittany leaves and spat them on my wound just like I did today. It healed up almost instantly!"
Hermione giggled. "That sounds both gross and amazing!"
Maxximus laughed too. "It was definitely gross, but it worked. I guess you could say it's a Sphinkus Special."
Hermione, straightening her back as she does when getting ready to discuss school related matters, takes control of the pair's upcoming itinerary.
"Herbology ended early today to give us enough time to freshen up before Transfiguration. It's a long way to Gryffindor Tower so I best be off. Professor McGonagall's class is on the first floor, will you be able to find it?" she said.
Grateful for Hermione's friendship, Maxximus felt like at the very least, he should be able to find the classroom on his own this time. His plan was to get to the first floor and ask some portraits. He nodded, waved her off and made his way to the third floor to freshen up in his own dorm before rejoining the Gryffindors in Transfiguration.