My Life in Harry Potter Universe

Professor Quirrell, the Defence Against Dark Art lecturer, looked every bit the paranoid type judging by the overwhelming amount of garlic in the classroom. He was also oddly styled, wearing a turban he claimed was a gift from an African prince for ridding him of a zombie - which Scarlet seriously doubted. His excuse was flimsy; African turban didn’t look like that. It would have been more believable if he’d said it came from India or Arabia. And as for the garlic, she didn’t buy the idea that it could ward off vampires. But Romania? Why Romania? She made a mental note to look into that.

Something was hidden beneath that turban, though. The senses granted to her by the Queen hinted at a connection to death, similar to the feeling she’d experienced when she noticed the soul fragment on Harry’s forehead.

Another fragment? Scarlet muttered the chant to strengthen the bond between the herself and the Queen. Through the gaps between her fingers, which she used to cover her face discreetly, she saw it again. It was a fragment of the same soul, but it was differently shaped. Somehow, it filled her with disgust when she examined it more closely.

She was dumbfounded by events the protagonist had faced in their first year. Seriously, is this something first-year students should be dealing with? And this was supposed to be a magical school with the greatest wizard of all time as the headmaster?

After class, the Hufflepuffs hurried to the greenhouses - the one place they didn’t need to stress about finding. On their way to Herbology, Scarlet noticed most her housemates seemed disappointed and soon found out why: it was the DADA class.

“Well, we were expecting something cooler,” Justin whispered, “At least something like what Akahime had in her academy.”

“Oh,” She replied, recalling her days at the academy in her previous life. The teachers there constantly brought in creatures for them to battle, pushing them forth relentlessly. Every time, without fail, some student ended up in the clinic - either with visible scars and blood all over the place, or with broken bones that the medics would heal quickly, though the process was agonizing. Of course, there was always yelling and screaming from the pain. she was glad to have only experienced it once, and then never again until she graduated; she’d learned to plan well in advance every time. “Well, it’s better not to get ourselves hurt. Trust me, it’s not as fun as it sounds.”

The Caster Academy sounded cool in her book because she focused on the fun parts and only vaguely mentioned the suffering the students endured. That’s probably why Justin and the others compared her description of the academy to the DADA class. Maybe I should write an adult version of Akahime’s Diary as a side story, just to test the market. There might be audience for that kind of content, she mused.

“Still, it’s going to be quite boring if he keeps teaching us like that,” Justin muttered.

They soon arrived at greenhouses, where they found Professor Sprout, the Head of Hufflepuff House. She was a dumpy little witch, with a gentle smile that always seemed always found on her face.

She went easy on them for their first class, providing an introduction, course syllabus, and an overview of what to expect in their first year. She also explained the tools required and where to find them, along with a few useful spells. After they jotted down notes, they donned gloves and began repotting some oddly scented plants - hands-on experience seemed to be a priority in this course.

“Next class, we’ll be repotting Mandrakes, so be emotionally prepared, love!” Professor Sprout cheerfully announced.

She liked this lecturer already.

The class ended on a joyful note, but Scarlet stayed behind as she had something she needed to discuss with the Head of Hufflepuff.

“Yes, dear, is there something you need?” Professor Sprout asked kindly.

“Professor Sprout, do you have time now? Or do you have another class coming up?” Scarlet asked, mindful of the professor’s schedule. “I need to talk to you about something, and it might take while...”

“Oh, it’s fine, I’m free this period. Is something wrong?” Professor Sprout asked, concerned, but Scarlet shook her head immediately.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just that...I’m not sure how to explain this,” Scarlet began, before deciding to take a step back and summon her spear.

She pulled a long spear from a hidden portal. She didn’t swing it, fearing she might break any vases or pots, but stood still, looking at Professor Sprout, who was clearly stunned by the sudden action.

“You see, Professor, I’ve inherited a kind of magic that requires close combat skills, and I need space for physical training.” Scarlet asked tentatively, “Could I request a room or a space for that?”

Professor Sprout looking momentarily dumbfounded, her concern evident, before she replied, “I suppose we can arrange something, but I believe I must inform the headmaster first...Come with me.”

“Of course.” Scarlet kept her spear; Hogwarts already had Harry Potter as its celebrity, and she definitely didn’t want to draw any more attention by wielding a weapon in the school.

As they headed toward the headmaster’s office, they had a brief conversation about how she acquired such magic.

“Well, this has something to do with Celtic legend. I think it would be best if I explain it to you and the headmaster when we get there,” Scarlet said, “This magic is ancient, and I’m still learning it. Ancient Runes and Charms are essential for me.”

“This is quite astonishing, dear,” Professor Sprout remarked, “And you acquired this when you were just eight?”

“Yes.”

“Does your family know about it?”

“My dad knows.” Scarlet replied, “My grandparents and others knows part of it.”

They soon arrived at the doorstep of the headmaster’s office. Professor Sprout spoke to the gargoyle that served as the security gate, requesting a meeting with Dumbledore. The gargoyle quickly stepped aside, revealing the doorway, indicating that the headmaster was in his office and not away on business or dealing with some tedious paperwork or officials.

“Please, have a seat.” the headmaster motioned for them to sit in front of him, offering tea and snacks, especially to Scarlet.

“Professor Sprout informed me that you have something important to discuss, Ms. Hong. May I inquire about the reason behind this request?” The Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, looked at her with an intrigued gaze.

Scarlet looked around, making sure the space was wide enough. She stood up, did exactly what she had showed Professor Sprout earlier, with one exception - she swung her spear, just once...Well, it was hard not to; she was so accustomed to swinging it into a standby position whenever she summoned the spear.

Professor Dumbledore was surprised but remained calm, waiting for her explanation.

“I’ve inherited a kind of ancient wisdom, and it comprises two parts. One, ancient magic based on runic alphabets. Two, the combat skills of using a spear.” Scarlet explained, “I have the responsibility to master both, and I’m quite weak in spear combat, so I need a space for practice and training.”

Professor Dumbledore didn’t remain quiet for long and nodded, looking pleased, “You shall have a room as you’ve requested. We have plenty of empty rooms for you to choose from - simply mark one, and it will be your training room for the rest of your school years.”

“Really? Thank you so much, Professor Dumbledore!” Scarlet didn’t expect it to be that smooth; she thought her request might be rejected since this was outside of Hogwarts’ usual syllabus.

“Well, I do have some questions I’d prefer to have clarified,” Professor Dumbledore said calmly, “Which ancestor’s great magic have you inherited? It’s very unique, and I haven’t seen anything like it anywhere.”

“Uhm...” Scarlet hesitated, feeling a bit uncertain, “Well, promise you won’t be mad?”

Professor Dumbledore nodded, “You have the word of a powerful wizard.”

“Do you know about Celtic mythology? Cú Chulainn, the legendary hero? And Scáthach, his teacher who guards the realm of death?” Scarlet watched their expression closely. Professor Sprout seemed puzzled but amazed, while Professor Dumbledore appeared enlightened, as though understand what she was referring to.

The he asked, “Why would you think I’d be irritated by your words?”

“...Because wizards mostly believe in Merlin?” Scarlet said tentatively, “I’ve done some research - Celtic beliefs faded as Christianity spread through the British Isles. Although the story of Merlin, who I suppose was Celtic, raised King Arthur to become the legendary king, King Arthur later searched for the Holy Grail in the legends, which hints at Christianity’s influence. So, I’m not sure how Merlin would have viewed Scáthach. Scáthach’s magic is far more ancient, perhaps not as modern as Merlin’s magic...Well, just some brief research I did at the community library. I might have gotten some things wrong, so I’m just making a wild guess. I plan to study English mythology further after graduating from Hogwarts though.”

Professor Dumbledore chuckled at her words, “Child, you’ve been overthinking, haven’t you?”

Professor Sprout grinned as well, “We welcome all kinds of magnificent magic! We’ve had exchange students from other schools around the world. Students from Asia and Africa brought their own unique ways of using magic. You’ll be just fine, dear.”

Well, that’s a relief. Scarlet thought, and the professors must have noticed her expression.

“Ms. Hong, when would you be practicing with your spear?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Early in the morning or at night before ten - whenever I’m free without classes.” Scarlet replied, “I wish I could spend more time on it, but I’m too busy at the moment.”

“And what keeps you so busy?” he inquired.

“Homework, for starters. Then there’s monitoring my business through reports from my manager. And drafting my next novel - my editor was chasing me for the plot a few days ago before I came here...” Scarlet counted on her fingers, then suddenly had an idea. “Could I sponsor a few school owls? I’m expecting to send frequent mail - one letter per day, maybe even two. It’d be exhausting for my owl to handle it all on its own.”

Both professors were stunned by her words, but Professor Dumbledore agreed, “I believe our owls wouldn’t mind enjoying some extra snacks if you’re willing to offer.”

Problem solved, Scarlet left with a spring in her step, following Professor Sprout.

Dumbledore, now alone in his office, sank into deep thought.