Chapter Text
The Demonic Wolf Kotar was cornered. With no time to think things through, he rasped, pouring all the accumulated power of a Miracle Invoker into his words:
‘My wish is for my enemies to be transported to a dangerous place very far away from me!’ at that very moment, Klein’s head began to ache terribly.
“Can you even do this?” a painfully mocking thought flashed through his mind. He felt as though something had begun tearing apart around his body and soul. The Seer’s intuition told Klein to close his eyes, and he hurriedly squeezed them shut so as not to see what he should not. He was in the process of being teleported to ‘a dangerous place very far away from Kotar’, and he had no idea why this was happening so strangely, or whether stopping the process of transporting his body and soul would cause even more problems than simply allowing the wish to come true.
Suddenly, the pain disappeared. Realising that the teleportation had apparently already taken place, Klein opened his eyes. He was in a very dense forest filled with enormous, branching trees. This was definitely not the Forsaken Land of the Gods. Klein could clearly see sunlight filtering through the dense foliage, and in any case, the soil there would not have been capable of nourishing these ‘giants’.
Recalling the exact wording of the Demonic Wolf’s wish once more, Klein focused on the phrase ‘my enemies’. He looked around.
‘Miss Reinette?’ he called softly, trying not to attract the attention of some unknown creature. No one appeared or answered his call. It seemed unlikely that Miss Messenger had hidden Herself in some nearby mirrored surface. Otherwise, She would have shown Herself by now.
He then tried to summon the headless lady using the Adventurer’s Harmonica, only to discover with surprise that it had lost its power. His attempts to extract the Historical Projection of the Ancient Bane were equally fruitless. Klein considered performing a full summoning ritual right then and there to be a rash decision — there could be too many hidden dangers surrounding him. Moreover, he suspected that the ritual would be just as unsuccessful as calling Her through the Harmonica or as a Projection. After all, all three methods operated on the same foundation connecting Klein and Reinette Tinekerr — their contract — and the problem probably lay precisely there. He would have to deal with it later, once he at least found out where he was.
The Scholar of Yore took out a pendulum from the Historical Void and performed a divination. The amplitude of its rotation was very small. After all, he had been sent to a merely ‘dangerous’ place, not a ‘deadly’ or ‘very dangerous’ one. Klein dispelled the pendulum and began walking through the forest in one direction, placing his complete trust in his spiritual intuition in this regard.
However, throughout his entire time here, Klein did not notice a single monster, hostile aura, or anything similar that might put him on guard. A hidden and unobvious problem was always more frightening. Perhaps the problem did not lie with any particular creature but with this place as a whole? That remained to be investigated.
After an unknown amount of time, the forest gradually began to thin, and more and more light illuminated the surroundings. Through the branches, Klein managed to make out some gigantic structure — a castle, seemingly straight out of a medieval fairy tale. The sight was not particularly impressive after the Palace Above the Grey Fog, Calderón City, and Liveseyd. Nevertheless, the structure still possessed a certain degree of grandeur.
Even without being a Marauder, Klein could sense, thanks to his experience, that there was something valuable inside the building. Moreover, he suspected that the Law of Beyonder Characteristics Convergence had led him to the castle — Klein had reached it far too conveniently.
The imposing structure looked well maintained enough that it could not have been abandoned, yet none of its inhabitants could be seen. After checking its danger level and finding it acceptable, Klein headed towards the nearest tower.
The Scholar of Yore summoned his own Projection. However, upon realising that he could not hide in the Historical Void, Klein experienced another bout of frustration. The history of this place apparently differed from everything he knew. Of course, he would not have entered the building personally under any circumstances, so he quickly slipped around a corner in search of a secluded place where he could hide. As a demigod, his sense of shame had become dulled, but losing most of his powers for unknown reasons still made him feel somewhat pathetic.
When the Historical Projection of Gehrman Sparrow tried to teleport inside the tower using Creeping Hunger, his attempt was blocked by an unknown force.
“This is probably the power of the Arbiter pathway. Whoever prohibited teleportation here must be at least Sequence 4 to be this effective at it. It is also likely that my presence here has already been noticed.”
After performing a divination, Klein confirmed that this was indeed the case — he had been discovered, yet the danger level had not changed in any way. That was probably a good sign, since there was no overt aggression directed specifically at him. Klein sighed and decided to continue his exploration.
It was rather fortunate that the castle had been built with such a textured exterior. Using the Clown’s balance and agility, Klein climbed up the wall to one of the open windows and slipped inside. He was greeted by a dark corridor, stone walls, and a spiral staircase leading to the top of the tower and down to its base. Places like this usually attracted ghosts. After looking around, Klein proceeded down the corridor. It was more important to find the castle’s central hall as the main point connecting all the major passages before exploring the towers and other branches.
Along the way, he discovered several different doors, but they were all locked. He had no intention of breaking into them and angering a powerful Beyonder while there was still a chance to resolve everything peacefully, so he could only leave them alone for the time being.
He had barely refreshed his Projection when he heard approaching footsteps echoing throughout the corridor. An image of an elderly man with a rather angry expression appeared before his eyes. He was clearly not a Beyonder, and dealing with him would have been laughably easy. A few seconds later, the grim-faced man appeared before Klein again, but this time he was no longer a vision.
The man spoke in a rough voice. Klein’s expression did not change at all, thanks to the powers of the Clown. It was frightening to imagine how horrifying the psychological impact would have been if Amon had not shown him Chernobyl beforehand. The man was definitely speaking English! Klein had studied it before and had barely managed to pass his exam in it. However, as it turned out, that was far from enough to understand a single word when confronted with a native speaker. But there was no way he could fail to recognise English! Where on earth had Kotar sent him?!
Klein maintained a cold expression as he hurriedly recalled every word and phrase he knew. Suddenly, he realised just how limited his English vocabulary was. He could only guess what he might have been told in such a situation, so he used a more or less universal response:
‘I’m lost.’
The dissatisfied man nodded to himself, apparently partially satisfied with the answer.
‘Follow me, please.’
This time, being prepared for English speech, Klein understood the man’s words. He was currently in the guise of Gehrman Sparrow, and Gehrman Sparrow would not thank a person who was most likely a servant in this castle and was simply doing his job. Therefore, he silently followed him. Klein only hoped that the owner of the castle was not at home and that he could pass himself off as a lost traveller who had desperately trespassed onto private property in search of help. However, with Gehrman’s face, passing himself off as an innocent victim would be extremely difficult.
That was what he was thinking as the man led him through numerous identical corridors. Soon, they found themselves before a statue of an ugly gargoyle. When the castle worker uttered a phrase that was apparently a password, the statue slid aside, revealing a secret passage — a spiral staircase leading somewhere above, decorated with a majestic stone griffin. Most likely, that was where the owner of the castle was located.
Klein was led through the newly opened passage into a fairly spacious, round study filled with all sorts of artefacts and strange mechanisms that continuously smoked and produced all kinds of irritating noises. The place even somewhat resembled a treasure vault: a hat on top of a cabinet, radiating an aura of antiquity and spirituality; a phoenix perched on its stand; a strange, large bowl that was clearly some kind of Sealed Artefact; and much more besides. Taken together, all of this could easily fetch at least 5000 pounds. Klein was not certain about the effects of these mystical items, so their value could be much higher.
Going a little deeper into the study, Klein saw a desk covered with all sorts of objects and some old man wearing a strange but clearly expensive robe. The Scholar of Yore could not recall a single place or historical fragment in which people might have worn anything like it. At the same time, the worker who had brought him here was dressed quite normally, albeit somewhat shabbily. Klein’s expression did not change in the slightest, remaining as cold as ever. He removed his half-top hat and gave the old man a greeting nod. The latter was clearly an important person here.
‘Good afternoon. My name is Gehrman Sparrow,’ Klein said in a slightly hoarse voice to conceal his accent. The old man also introduced himself in a rather friendly manner as Albus Dumbledore.
At this point, the servant who had brought him to the study joined in. He hurriedly explained something to the old man — apparently describing his encounter with Klein. In response, the old man merely nodded and smiled amiably. Then the old man turned to Klein and asked him something. The only words Klein could make out were ‘new professor’. At least it did not sound aggressive or suspicious.
‘I don’t understand you, Mister,’ Klein replied as cautiously as possible, using Ancient Hermes, a language that was universal to almost all countries and eras. The old man raised his grey eyebrows very expressively, clearly surprised and confused. The Scholar of Yore could only shake his head in disappointment. If they could not communicate properly anyway, he had no intention of admitting to these people that he did not know their language: that would give them far too much freedom to act. Therefore, Klein nodded subtly, pretending that he had understood the question perfectly.
‘I think and hope so,’ perhaps it sounded unnatural, but the important thing was to give the old man an answer that was more or less appropriate without provoking hostility or suspicion.
Those words clearly delighted and reassured the old man. He smiled pleasantly and pointed with his palm towards a vase filled with lemon sweets, saying something incomprehensible at the same time. Apparently, he was offering Klein a treat. The Historical Projection, without changing his cold expression, thanked him, grabbed a sweet, and slipped it into his pocket. Albus Dumbledore continued speaking, while Klein maintained an impassive expression and carefully nodded during the pauses in his monologue.
At one point, the old man turned to his subordinate and gave him some instructions. During this, Klein finally learned the servant’s name. The grim-faced man, who had just shot him another angry look, was called Filch. After saying something to Klein, the servant began to leave the study. When Filch turned around, clearly to check whether Klein was following him, the Scholar of Yore realised that he was once again being led somewhere. With the measured, calm stride of a man who knew exactly what was going on, Klein followed the servant.
Last time, the man had led him through some hidden and inconspicuous passages, but now they were walking through a wide, brightly lit corridor.
“If speed was the priority before, does Filch now want to show me the castle? That must be why he is choosing the main corridors. He probably expects me to remember the layout.”
Along the way, Klein saw several paintings and nearly flinched when he realised that the people in them were moving and behaving just like living beings. He even noticed a painted child pointing a finger at him. A painted woman, apparently his mother, immediately came over and began scolding him. Klein looked away, not knowing whether he was even allowed to watch this. After that, he only glanced at the paintings from time to time, wanting to make sure that the canvas depicting the mother and child was not unique to this castle. As they continued walking, they encountered several more paintings of entirely different kinds, but the people, animals, and even insects in all of them moved without exception.
After some time, Klein was finally brought to one of the hundreds of doors. This time, no passwords were required, only an ordinary key. Upon entering the classroom, the first thing that caught his eye was the skeleton of a dragon beneath the ceiling. It was quite impressive and even majestic. Klein’s gaze was then drawn to rows of identical desks, much like those found in schools. At the far end of the elongated classroom was a small open area and a desk, apparently intended for the teacher. Obviously, this was a classroom. Unusually, there was also a small staircase at the far end of the room, leading to a door about a metre above the ground. That was where Filch led Klein.
“Considering what they said earlier about a new professor and the setting of this room, I can assume that they are taking me to him. Perhaps this professor is progressing along the Spectator pathway, and they want to have him examine me? How terrible it is not to understand what is happening around me. That is why they say the unknown is the most frightening thing of all.”
However, when Klein entered the door at the far end, there was no one there. The room looked half-empty and uninhabited. A fairly spacious bed stood in one corner, with a chest beside it. There were also bookcases filled with books. Unfortunately, the words on their spines were nothing more than a collection of letters to Klein.
Filch briefly explained something, but of all his words, Klein could only make out ‘This will be your room’, as well as ‘documents’ and ‘wait’. After that, the man left, finally leaving Klein alone. Quite a lot of time had already passed, and the Historical Projection needed to be refreshed, so the true body of the Scholar of Yore, which had been hiding somewhere outside all this time, stood beneath the window leading into the very room with the dragon.
Klein easily climbed up the wall, entered the room where his Projection was, and successfully refreshed it. He then climbed back out of the window, but instead of descending, he climbed onto the roof. It would have been safer on the ground below, but the distance and time limitations of the Projection still applied. The Scholar of Yore intended to continue maintaining it until he gathered enough information to move on. However, he was not certain whether he was even allowed to leave this place. There might be some kind of restriction or barrier here, so friendliness and negotiation were the best strategy, assuming their one-sided talks could even be called communication.
Minerva McGonagall was in her office, writing letters for the first-years. It was already almost the middle of August, and only the most difficult-to-reach children remained to be sent invitations to study at Hogwarts. The work was tedious and monotonous, but it nevertheless filled her with a certain sense of excitement that these letters might radically change someone’s life, opening the way to the magical world for a new generation of wizards and witches.
As she dipped her quill into the emerald ink once again, Minerva glanced at the clock, but her attention was immediately drawn to movement in the usually tranquil landscape outside the window. She looked more closely and froze. A man in strange clothing was climbing along the far wall of the castle. He cautiously made his way towards the window of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom and climbed inside with the agility of a cat. McGonagall immediately rose from her desk and hurried into the corridor.
Although there was a barrier around the castle against Muggles and evil forces, and any unauthorised intrusion should already have been known to Dumbledore, Minerva did not want to stand aside and leave everything to chance. She should at least clarify the situation and, if necessary, raise the alarm. Perhaps it was a thief, some other intruder, or a student who had decided that causing a ruckus before the school year even began was twice as cool and entertaining as doing so during it. She quickly made her way towards the office the unknown man had entered, until she ran into their caretaker around one of the corners. He looked even grumpier than usual. The Transfiguration professor began anxiously:
‘Mr Filch, someone has broken into the Defence Against the Dark Arts office …’ she did not have time to finish before the man interrupted her. In a hoarse, angry voice, he said:
‘Don’t worry, Minerva! That’s the new professor. He only just arrived. I have no idea where the headmaster dug him up, but he looks like someone who should have been thrown out within the first few seconds of arriving here.’
Their caretaker was perhaps the only person in the entire castle who was genuinely happy about the Ministry’s interference. He had been waiting for it to ‘finally bring order to Hogwarts’. His disappointment over the arrival of the new professor was quite understandable, so Minerva naturally ignored Filch’s grumbling. Confusion mixed with excitement, McGonagall gave a faint smile.
‘So Dumbledore did manage to find a new professor after all? Merlin’s beard, then I must “delight” the Ministry right away and inform them that we have no need for Dolores Umbridge’s services.’
‘Don’t get ahead of yourself, the documents haven’t been signed yet,’ Filch grumbled with unclear resentment, turned around, and began to leave. Minerva watched his back for several seconds but ultimately decided to keep silent about the strange behaviour of the new professor that she had witnessed. Many wizards had unusual and unique habits. It was better for their new professor to climb walls than to report their every move to the Ministry and sniff out ‘conspiracies’.
One should not immediately assume the worst about an unfamiliar person. She wanted to believe that the man simply had not found the entrance to the office and had come up with a somewhat radical solution to the problem. At least, that was what she wanted to hope. Although newcomers often found it difficult to navigate Hogwarts, this assumption still sounded rather implausible. In any case, she had confirmed that he was not a thief. Minerva turned away and calmly walked back towards her office, privately deciding to keep an eye on her new colleague.
After waiting for Filch, who had brought him the documents, to leave, Klein took a translation device out of the Historical Void and pointed it at the paper. As soon as the text had been translated, he immersed himself in reading it. It turned out to be an employment contract describing the duties, requirements, and benefits provided to the employee. Everything seemed quite standard except for the position being offered — some kind of ‘Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts’ — and the date, 9 August 1995. Kotar was not capable of sending him into the past, and the Scholar of Yore could not imagine what kind of being would have to exist to accomplish something on such a scale. It definitely had to be something else rather than time travel.
The Demonic Wolf’s wish might have been affected by the power of distortion, or it could have been an incredibly powerful influence on the mind that caused subconscious images to surface. In any case, Klein could only make guesses, but he felt that all of them were far from the truth.
He was also puzzled by these people’s attitude towards him. Dumbledore had not even asked him about his experience working with children, his abilities, or anything else! Essentially, the old man knew only his name, and even that was fake. Yet he had already been offered some strange job at this castle, along with free accommodation. Most likely, they had seen Gehrman as a problem and wanted to keep an eye on him, preventing him from leaving the castle for the time being. But why let him anywhere near the children?
“How do they recruit their staff? I thought it wasn’t obvious from my face just how soft-hearted I am inside …” Klein chuckled to himself but did not allow it to show on Gehrman Sparrow’s face. He was glad that at least he now understood what was happening.
He thoughtfully twirled the quill provided for him in his hand. Fate itself seemed to be pushing him to sign the paper, but Klein had no desire whatsoever to follow a predetermined path. He sighed and tossed a gold coin into the air. After looking at the result, the Scholar of Yore dipped the quill into the ink and decisively signed his name.