The Arithmancy classroom on the seventh floor bore little resemblance to the other teaching spaces at Hogwarts. Instead of the usual rows of desks facing a teacher's podium, the room descended in tiered semicircles like a small amphitheater, each level holding a long curved desk with comfortable chairs spaced evenly behind it. Blackboards covered not just the front wall but wrapped around the sides as well, all of them filled with complex numerical equations and runic symbols that made Chris's heart quicken with recognition and interest.
"This looks more like a university lecture hall than a classroom," Chris whispered as they chose seats in the middle tier, close enough to see clearly but not so close as to be directly in the professor's line of sight.
Hannah nodded, eyes wide as she took in the equations. "Look at all those numbers. Do you think we'll actually understand any of this by the end of term?"
"We will," Chris assured her, settling between his friends and pulling out his copy of "Numerology and Grammatica" along with a fresh notebook. "It's just mathematics applied to magic. Break it down step by step, and it makes perfect sense."
Before Hannah could respond, the door at the bottom of the classroom opened, and Professor Vector strode in with purposeful steps. She was a witch in her early forties with sharp features and intelligent eyes that seemed to calculate and measure everything they observed. Her deep blue robes were embroidered with silver threads that formed subtle numerical patterns around the hems and cuffs, a detail Chris appreciated for its elegance.
"Welcome to Arithmancy," she announced without preamble, her voice clear and precise. "This subject is not for the faint of heart or the magically imprecise. If you're looking for crystal balls and tea leaves, Professor Trelawney's classroom is in the tower accessible two floors down."
A few students chuckled nervously. Professor Vector surveyed the room, seeming satisfied with the number of students who had elected to take her subject.
"Arithmancy," she continued, "is the mathematics of magic. While your wand movements and incantations are the visible part of spellcasting, numbers are the invisible framework upon which all magic hangs." She flicked her wand at one of the blackboards, causing a complex equation to glow softly. "Every spell can be expressed as a mathematical formula. Understanding these formulas allows us to predict magical effects, create new spells, and modify existing ones with precision rather than trial and error."
Chris leaned forward slightly, interest piqued despite already knowing much of this introductory material. Professor Vector's approach was refreshingly direct compared to the mystical trappings of many magical disciplines.
"For example," she said, turning to another blackboard where a simpler equation was written, "here is the mathematical expression of the basic Lumos charm, broken down into its component parts."
She tapped her wand against different sections of the equation as she explained. "This variable represents the wand movement, a simple upward flick. This coefficient determines light intensity. These terms here relate to the verbal component, the word 'Lumos' itself, and how its sounds interact with your magical core."
Susan was scribbling notes frantically beside him, while Hannah stared at the board with a mixture of confusion and determination. Chris took more measured notes, focusing on Professor Vector's specific terminology rather than the concepts he already understood.
"Now," the professor said with a small smile that transformed her severe features, "let me demonstrate why Arithmancy is worth the headache you'll all undoubtedly develop while studying it."
She raised her wand. "Lumos." A standard ball of white light appeared at its tip, illuminating her face from below. "A perfectly serviceable light spell. But what happens if I alter this coefficient?" She waved her wand in a pattern that Chris recognized as manipulating the mathematical structure of the active spell.
The light shifted from white to a deep blue, then to green, then red, cycling through colors like a miniature rainbow.
"Or if I change this variable." Another precise movement, and the light detached from her wand tip, floating to hover over the center of the room where all students could see it clearly. "Or adjust this component." The light began to pulse rhythmically, growing brighter and dimmer in a hypnotic pattern.
With a final flourish, she manipulated the equation one more time, and the light flashed blindingly bright for a split second before returning to normal and reattaching to her wand. Several students blinked rapidly, afterimages dancing in their vision.
"That," she said with satisfaction, "is the power of understanding the mathematics behind your magic."
"Brilliant," Hannah breathed, eyes wide with new appreciation.
The rest of the lesson focused on establishing a foundation in basic mathematical principles. Professor Vector explained that many wizarding children, particularly those from pureblood families, had gaps in their mathematical education that would need to be filled before they could progress to actual magical equations.
"Your homework," she announced as she distributed worksheets, "is to complete these basic problems. Those of you who find this review too simple may proceed to the supplementary problems on the back. I need to assess your current knowledge before we move forward."
Chris glanced at the worksheet, arithmetic operations, simple algebra, and basic geometric concepts. He could have completed it in his sleep, knowledge carried over from his previous life combined with his advanced reading for this class. Still, he understood the necessity of establishing fundamentals.
"This is going to be challenging," Susan murmured, looking slightly overwhelmed as she examined the problems. "I haven't done mathematics since well before Hogwarts."
"I can help," Chris offered. "It's not as intimidating as it looks."
"I like how practical it is," Hannah said, surprising them both. "It's not just theory, you can actually see how changing the numbers changes the magic. That light demonstration was incredible."
As they packed up their materials at the end of class, Chris felt a familiar intellectual satisfaction. There was something deeply appealing about the logical precision of Arithmancy, the way it stripped away the mysterious veneer of magic and revealed the elegant structure beneath. Even if the current material was review for him, he could already envision how these principles would apply to his independent studies of the Founders' Grimoires.
"Library study session before dinner?" Susan suggested as they navigated the corridor outside, already anticipating the work ahead.
"Definitely," Hannah agreed. "I need to remember how to do long division again, apparently."
Chris nodded, mentally scheduling his time. "I'll bring my notes from the summer reading. Professor Vector might teach differently than the textbook, but the concepts are the same."
As they headed toward their next class, Chris couldn't help but smile. This was exactly the kind of normal academic challenge he'd been hoping for this year, stimulating but straightforward, with no hidden chambers or dark wizards in sight. Just the clean, clear beauty of magical mathematics, waiting to be mastered.
...
The September afternoon sun warmed their faces as Chris, Susan, and Hannah made their way across the sloping lawns toward Hagrid's hut at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. After the mathematical precision of Arithmancy, the prospect of their first Care of Magical Creatures lesson offered a welcome change of pace. A small group of students with blue-trimmed robes was already gathered near Hagrid's vegetable garden, their Ravenclaw scarves fluttering in the gentle breeze.
"Looks like we're with the Ravenclaws this year," Susan observed, adjusting her book bag on her shoulder. "That's a nice change."
Chris nodded, privately relieved. In previous years, Hufflepuff had often shared classes with the Slytherins, which inevitably meant dealing with Draco Malfoy's sneering comments and attempts to disrupt lessons. The Ravenclaws, while occasionally overeager to demonstrate their knowledge, were generally pleasant classmates who shared Hufflepuff's respect for learning.
"I wonder what Hagrid has planned," Hannah said, her eyes bright with anticipation. "Fred and George told me his lessons are 'intensely educational,' whatever that means."
"Knowing Hagrid," Chris replied with a small smile, "that could mean anything from flobberworms to dragons."
They joined the gathering students just as Hagrid emerged from his hut, beaming with barely contained excitement. The half-giant's wild beard couldn't hide his broad smile, though Chris noticed a slight nervousness in how he kept adjusting his moleskin overcoat.
"Gath'r round, gath'r round," Hagrid called, his booming voice carrying easily across the grounds. "Welcome ter Care o' Magical Creatures! Got a real treat for yeh today, somethin' special for yer first lesson."
The students formed a loose semicircle around their towering professor. Despite his imposing size, Hagrid's eyes held a gentle warmth that put most of the class at ease.
"Now, if yeh'll just follow me," he continued, gesturing toward a paddock beyond his hut, "I've prepared somethin' magnificent for yeh to meet."
They followed Hagrid along the edge of the forest until they reached a large enclosure. Inside, tethered to posts around the fence, stood a dozen of the most striking creatures, even knowing what to expect. Half horse, half eagle, the hippogriffs pawed the ground with massive talons and tossed their fierce, beaked heads, their feathers gleaming in colours ranging from stormy grey to bronze to chestnut.
"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid announced proudly, climbing over the paddock fence. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"
A collective gasp rose from the students. Even the typically reserved Ravenclaws were whispering excitedly to each other, pointing at the magnificent beasts.
"Now, firs' thing yeh need ter know abou' hippogriffs," Hagrid explained, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "is they're proud creatures. Easily offended, they are. Never insult a hippogriff, might be the last thing yeh do."
He demonstrated the proper approach, maintaining eye contact while slowly bowing from the waist. "Yeh wait for 'em to make the first move. If they bow back, yer allowed ter touch 'em. If not, well, best back away sharpish."
Chris observed carefully, despite already knowing the protocol from his own experiences at Ambrosia Manor. The ancestral property included several magical creatures, and he'd had the opportunity to interact with hippogriffs, even managing to fly with them. Still, Hagrid's explanation was thorough and clear, showing a depth of knowledge that confirmed his qualification for teaching the subject.
"Right then," Hagrid said, looking over the class. "Who wants ter go first?"
A tense silence fell over the group. The Ravenclaws exchanged glances, their academic enthusiasm apparently tempered by the sight of the hippogriffs' sharp beaks and powerful talons. Chris deliberately took a half-step back, resisting the urge to volunteer. This was a learning opportunity for his classmates, and he didn't want to show off his prior experience.
To his surprise, Hannah stepped forward beside him.
"I'll try," she said, her voice steady despite the slight tremble in her hands.
Hagrid beamed down at her. "Good girl! Right then, let's see how yeh get on with Silverfeather here."
He led Hannah toward a handsome grey hippogriff with silver-tipped wings that gleamed like polished metal in the sunlight. The rest of the class backed away slightly, giving them space while maintaining a clear view of the demonstration.
"Easy now," Hagrid instructed. "Keep eye contact, that's it. Now bow, nice and low."
Hannah followed his instructions precisely, maintaining unwavering eye contact with the imposing creature while bending into a respectful bow. The hippogriff regarded her imperiously, its fierce orange eyes unblinking as it considered this small human showing proper deference.
For several tense seconds, nothing happened. Chris found himself holding his breath, impressed by Hannah's courage but ready to intervene if needed. Then, with deliberate grace, Silverfeather bent one scaly front knee and lowered its feathered head in a clear bow.
"Well done!" Hagrid exclaimed, clapping his enormous hands. "Right, yeh can touch him now. Pat his beak, go on."
Hannah approached slowly, hand outstretched. Her fingers made contact with the hippogriff's hard beak, and she stroked it gently. Silverfeather closed his eyes contentedly, clearly enjoying the attention.
"I reckon he might let yeh ride him," Hagrid suggested, watching the interaction with pride.
Hannah's eyes widened. "Really? Is it safe?"
"'Course it is, if yer careful. Just climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint. And mind yeh don't pull any feathers out, he won' like that."
With Hagrid's help, Hannah carefully mounted the hippogriff, settling herself on its back just where the wings joined the body. She looked both terrified and exhilarated, gripping the creature's neck feathers gently as Hagrid had instructed.
"Off yeh go!" Hagrid slapped Silverfeather's hindquarters, and the hippogriff launched into the air with powerful strokes of its enormous wings.
Hannah's startled yelp turned into delighted laughter as she soared upward. The class watched, necks craned, as Silverfeather carried her in a wide circle around the paddock, climbing higher before swooping low over the Forbidden Forest's edge. Hannah's blonde hair streamed behind her like a banner, her face alight with joy even from a distance.
After a few minutes of flight, Silverfeather descended in a gentle glide, landing with surprising delicacy for such a large creature. Hannah slid off its back, her legs wobbling slightly as she readjusted to solid ground. Her hair was wildly windswept, her cheeks flushed with excitement, and her eyes sparkled with an almost manic joy.
"That was, that was, " she gasped, struggling to find adequate words. "Incredible! The view! And the feeling when he turned! It's nothing like a broom, it's like riding the wind itself!"
The rest of the class broke into applause, emboldened by her success. Several Ravenclaws now stepped forward, eager for their own turn with the hippogriffs.
"Didn't know you had that kind of courage in you," Susan said admiringly as Hannah rejoined them.
"Neither did I!" Hannah admitted, still breathless. "But I just thought, it's our first day of new classes, and if I can handle advanced mathematics in the morning, I can certainly handle a hippogriff in the afternoon!"
Chris grinned at her reasoning. "Well done, Hannah. That was impressive."
As the lesson continued with other students taking their turns, Chris reflected on how different this class was from his previous educational experiences. There was something uniquely Hogwarts about learning magical theory one hour and riding mythical beasts the next. For all his advanced knowledge and past-life memories, moments like these reminded him why he cherished this second chance.
...
Morning light streamed through the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, the breakfast tables buzzed with the familiar chaos of clattering plates, morning conversations, and the occasional burst of laughter. Chris spread marmalade on his toast while listening to Hannah enthusiastically recount her hippogriff adventure to a group of wide-eyed first years who had gathered around their section of the Hufflepuff table.
"…and then we were soaring over the treetops!" Hannah was saying, her hands gesturing expansively. "You could see for miles! The castle, the lake, everything looks different from up there."
"Were you scared?" asked a small boy with freckles scattered across his nose.
"Terrified," Hannah admitted cheerfully. "But the good kind of terrified, you know? The kind that makes you feel alive."
Susan glanced up from her copy of the Daily Prophet with an amused smile. "You've told that story three times since yesterday. I think you've found your calling as a magical creature enthusiast."
"Can you blame me?" Hannah replied, helping herself to more scrambled eggs. "It was brilliant! Speaking of brilliant, what do we have today?"
Chris consulted their timetable, which he'd already memorized but checked out of habit. "Double Potions this morning with the Ravenclaws again, then Ancient Runes after lunch."
"Two new subjects in one day," Susan said, folding her newspaper neatly. "Are we gluttons for punishment or what?"
"Intellectual challenge," Chris corrected with a small smile. "Besides, Ancient Runes should complement what we're learning in Arithmancy. They're often used together in complex spellcraft."
Hannah groaned good-naturedly. "Of course you'd already know how they connect. Did you read all the textbooks over summer?"
"Not all of them," Chris replied, though in truth he'd not only read the assigned texts but supplemented them with additional reading from the Ambrosia library. His comment was interrupted by the familiar sound of rushing wings as the morning owl post arrived.
Dozens of owls swooped through the high windows, circling the tables before finding their recipients. Chris wasn't expecting any mail, Jilly and Bouncy knew to only contact him for emergencies, so he returned his attention to his breakfast. It was only when a distinctive flash of white caught his peripheral vision that he looked up sharply.
Athena, his snowy owl, glided into the Great Hall with unmistakable grace despite clear signs of exhaustion. Her normally pristine feathers were slightly ruffled, and her flight path wavered slightly before she corrected course toward the Hufflepuff table. Chris felt a surge of excitement mingled with concern for his faithful messenger.
"Isn't that your owl?" Susan asked, noticing his sudden attention shift. "I don't think I've seen her since the end of last term."
"Athena," Chris confirmed, quickly clearing space on the table before her. The magnificent bird landed with less than her usual precision, her blue eyes blinking slowly as if fighting fatigue. "She's been on a special errand."
The owl extended her leg, where a letter was attached with a silver clip. Chris carefully removed it, then immediately offered Athena a strip of bacon and his goblet of water, which she accepted gratefully. Her exhaustion was evident up close, this had been no ordinary delivery.
"She looks like she's flown across the continent," Hannah observed, gently stroking the owl's back. "Poor thing."
"She might have," Chris murmured, examining the letter in his hands.
The parchment was unlike any he'd seen before, a pale cream color with a texture that spoke of extreme age and quality. It shimmered faintly in the morning light, suggesting preservation enchantments of exceptional sophistication. Most striking was the seal, deep red wax impressed with an intricate design that wasn't a family crest but rather an alchemical symbol surrounded by tiny runes.
His heart beat faster as realization dawned. After weeks of waiting, Nicolas Flamel had finally responded.
"That's not ordinary mail," Susan said quietly, her keen eyes noting the unusual quality of the parchment and the complex seal. "Is everything alright?"
Chris nodded, still staring at the letter. "Everything's fine. It's just... a correspondence I've been waiting for. For quite some time, actually."
Hannah leaned closer, curiosity evident in her expression. "From whom? That parchment looks ancient, and that seal is nothing like I've ever seen."
"It's from..." Chris hesitated, aware they were in the crowded Great Hall where too many ears might overhear. "Let's just say it's from someone with considerable expertise in a matter I've been researching."
Susan's eyebrows rose. "That's deliberately vague, Chris."
"I know," he admitted with a small smile. "I promise I'll explain later, somewhere more private."
Athena had finished her bacon and water, looking marginally refreshed though still weary. She nipped Chris's finger affectionately before spreading her wings and taking off toward the owlery, clearly eager for a well-deserved rest.
Chris carefully tucked the unopened letter into his inner robe pocket, aware of both his friends watching him with undisguised curiosity. The weight of the parchment against his chest felt significant, a tangible connection to one of the most extraordinary wizards in history.
"You're not going to open it?" Hannah asked, sounding disappointed.
"Not here," Chris replied, glancing meaningfully around the crowded hall. "Some correspondence requires privacy."
"Well, now I'm completely intrigued," Susan said, her voice low. "Will you tell us what it's about after you read it?"
Chris considered this. His friends knew nothing of the Philosopher's Stone or his communication with Flamel. Yet he trusted them more than anyone else at Hogwarts. "If I can," he said finally. "Some secrets aren't entirely mine to share."
The morning bell rang, signaling they had fifteen minutes to reach the dungeons for Potions. As they gathered their bags and joined the stream of students flowing out of the Great Hall, Chris could feel the letter in his pocket like a physical weight. Whatever Nicolas Flamel had written, whether agreeing to meet, refusing outright, or something in between, would undoubtedly shape the course of his supposedly "quiet" third year.