In the vast highlands of Scotland stood the ancient and mysterious Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, majestic as ever.
This school, with a history spanning a thousand years, had silently borne witness to the rise and fall of the magical world in Britain and across Europe.
The current headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was no ordinary wizard—recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class; founder and secret-keeper of the Order of the Phoenix.
At the same time, he was the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.
His mastery of Alchemy and Transfiguration was unparalleled, reaching heights few could dream of.
In the vast domain of magical theory, he had made numerous groundbreaking contributions through wisdom and relentless research.
Yet, if one were to name his most glorious achievements, none could compare to his defeat of not one, but two infamous Dark Lords: Gellert Grindelwald and Lord Voldemort.
Because of this, he was widely regarded as the most powerful and greatest wizard of his time.
And yet, at this very moment, this near-110-year-old wizard sat like a chastened child, quietly enduring a scolding.
"Is your head full of honey, Dumbledore!"
"If it were, that would be rather delightful, Severus."
"Call me Professor Snape."
"Very well then, Professor Snape."
With a warm smile, Dumbledore held out a bright yellow lemon sherbet.
"Would you like one? Muggles made these with great care—quite the lovely flavor."
He was met with a glare sharp enough to kill.
Sighing, Dumbledore put the candy away and muttered under his breath,
"What a shame."
"Severus, why are you so strongly opposed to Mr. Elwin joining Hogwarts as a professor? You used to care for him quite a bit."
"Don't pretend you don't know what he's been doing since he graduated."
"Of course I know. Mr. Elwin is a wizard full of boldness and a spirit of adventure..."
"He consorts with Dark Wizards like it's a hobby. Breaking magical law seems no more unusual to him than sipping tea."
"But we've never found any concrete evidence..."
"Exactly. Which proves just how cunning he is—no different from him."
Dumbledore's gaze grew solemn and sincere.
"You're overthinking it."
Snape pressed his lips together and said nothing.
"It seems neither of us will convince the other," Dumbledore sighed. "Why don't I simply invite Mr. Elwin here so we can all ask him directly?"
Without delay, Dumbledore took up a finely crafted quill and wrote a letter.
"I want to supervise the entire process," Snape added firmly.
"No problem."
Dumbledore nodded and passed the sealed envelope to an owl, opening the window gently.
The owl grasped the letter with its beak, spread its wings, and soared out into the sky, vanishing into the distant horizon.
Meanwhile, Wes Elwin was completely engrossed in a research paper.
It was a recently published essay by Professor Minerva McGonagall, an in-depth exploration of advanced Transfiguration theory.
As one of the registered and rare Animagi in the magical world, Professor McGonagall was undoubtedly a true master of Transfiguration.
Wes was utterly absorbed in the paper, as if the words had drawn him into a realm of powerful magic—so deeply that he didn't even notice the repeated tapping at the window.
In the end, it was Jandy who rushed over to open it, gently ushering in the owl.
The owl flapped its wings indignantly, hooting sharply in protest, clearly expressing its deep annoyance at having been kept waiting.
"Hey, quiet down, little one. Don't go disturbing the master now."
Jandy pulled out a pouch of premium pet feed.
The owl caught the rich scent and instantly dove in to feast with great enthusiasm.
Once it had eaten its fill, it affectionately nuzzled Jandy, dropped the envelope, flapped its wings, and flew off into the sky.
Jandy hurriedly picked up the envelope and carefully examined the seal. Upon confirming the sender, he respectfully handed it to Wes.
"Master, it's a letter from Hogwarts."
The irritation Wes had felt from being interrupted vanished the moment he heard the word Hogwarts. His eyes lit up, and without hesitation, he tossed aside the paper he'd been reading and eagerly tore the envelope open.
---
"Mr. Wes Elwin,
We are pleased to receive your application for the position of Professor of Magical Runes. After careful consideration, you are invited to attend an interview in the Headmaster's Office at 10 a.m. tomorrow.
Best regards,
Albus Dumbledore"
---
"Oh! Fantastic!" Wes exclaimed with joy, dancing around the room with an elated grin. "Three years—it finally paid off!"
"Congratulations, Master," Jandy said with sincere pride, ever the dutiful house-elf.
"I can't afford any mistakes this time," Wes said with resolute eyes. He was determined to succeed.
By 8 a.m. the next day, Wes stood in front of the mirror, carefully inspecting himself.
The reflection showed a sharply dressed young man full of energy. His hair was combed to perfection, sleek and neat.
The finely tailored robes hugged his tall frame elegantly, and his handsome face only added to his commanding presence.
"Well? What do you think?" Wes asked with anticipation.
"Perfect, my master!" Jandy beamed.
Wes smiled and picked up the briefcase beside him.
"Hold down the fort while I'm gone."
"As you wish, Master."
At 9:30 a.m., Wes arrived at Hogwarts—and to his surprise, he was greeted not by a random staff member, but by Professor McGonagall herself.
Wes was caught off guard and quickly bowed in respect.
"It's been a long time, Professor McGonagall."
"Mr. Elwin, you've grown into quite the remarkable young man," she said warmly. "I never imagined we'd one day become colleagues."
"That depends entirely on Headmaster Dumbledore," Wes replied modestly.
"You were a sharp and diligent student. If Albus still has any sense left in that head of his, he'd be a fool not to hire you."
"I hope everything goes as you say."
"Mr. Elwin—"
"Please, call me Wes, Professor McGonagall."
"Very well, Wes. How does it feel to return to school?"
A look of nostalgia crossed Wes's face.
"Familiar… and yet foreign. Back then, I never really explored this mysterious castle. I spent most of my time buried in books or practicing spells in the library."
"Yes, that much was quite unforgettable," McGonagall chuckled.
"No student has ever studied as obsessively as you. Even for a Ravenclaw, it was... extreme."
Wes scratched his nose sheepishly.
"You certainly kept us professors busy."
Though she said it in jest, the truth was, McGonagall had always looked after Wes, often giving him private instruction. Other professors were much the same. Even the usually stern Professor Snape had viewed him with rare favor.
"By the way," Wes asked, "does Filius know about this yet?"
"Not yet. I figured I'd wait until everything's official before informing him."
As they chatted, the two of them reached the 8th floor.
The massive and hideous stone gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office suddenly spoke.
"Password?"
"Toffee." McGonagall replied calmly.
The gargoyle moved aside without protest.
Behind it was a slowly rotating spiral staircase. At the top stood the door to the Headmaster's office—crafted from polished oak and adorned with a brass knocker shaped like a griffin's head.
As the two approached, the door creaked open on its own.
Looking at the opening door, Wes felt a flicker of nervousness rise within him.