Chapter Twenty-One: The Great Celebrity, Professor Plenton

Upon realizing that the Herbology lessons remained as dull as ever and that the History of Magic class he’d missed was just as incomprehensible as ancient runes, Xiwen abandoned any notion of catching up. Besides, at that moment, something far more delightful caught his attention—

The kitten had returned!

He only discovered this while his roommates were discussing their feelings about skipping class. As they chatted, Xiwen suddenly recalled that his poor sleep the night before had been due to sneaking out to look for the kitten. He vaguely remembered seeing a pair of strange yellow eyes in the cat cage at noon, though whether those eyes had lulled him into a stupor or he’d simply been too tired to resist, he wasn’t sure.

Glancing at the cage, he was immediately overcome with joy.

Inside, a kitten that looked remarkably like a British Shorthair Chinchilla lay quietly, its silver-white fur soft and fluffy, head round as a dumpling, body chubby and adorable, and its large pale yellow eyes occasionally blinking sweetly—altogether irresistibly cute.

Xiwen rushed over, flung open the cage, and scooped the kitten into his arms.

“Kitten, you’ve opened your eyes?” he exclaimed in delight.

His three roommates, curious, all crowded around.

Mobley, enchanted by the kitten’s cuteness, reached out to stroke her, only for his hand to be briskly batted aside by a tiny paw. His hand was left awkwardly suspended in midair until, feigning an itchy nose, he withdrew it to rub his face.

“So your cat really did sneak out on its own, didn’t it?” said Abraxas.

“It seems so,” Xiwen replied, nodding. “Kitten, don’t wander off again, okay? Even if you go out to play, be sure to come back early at night. Otherwise, who knows how many more classes I’ll miss because of you!”

The kitten, as if understanding him, let out an adorably soft “meow.”

…

If the kitten’s return filled Xiwen with happiness, the prospect of the next morning’s interminable Herbology class brought the opposite feeling.

Professor Essad was evidently displeased with Xiwen’s absence the previous day, fixing him with a stern gaze all morning. Every mistake he made was immediately pointed out, and he was even asked to demonstrate in front of the class. Having barely studied Herbology at home, Xiwen endured a morning of sheer misery.

By afternoon, he had hardly recovered during Defense Against the Dark Arts, still practicing the Spark Charm, when the dreaded History of Magic class arrived.

Professor Binns, a diminutive, elderly ghost, called roll with the same unchanging monotone and expressionless face as ever, then began his lecture, oblivious to his audience. Whether due to his extreme age or ghostly state, he spoke in wheezy, drawn-out tones that made it nearly impossible to pay attention; drowsiness soon crept over everyone.

Xiwen privately thought a recording of Professor Binns’s lectures could easily top the charts as a best-selling sleep aid. In desperation, he cast a discreet Muffliato charm on himself during the lecture and studied his textbook, “A Brief History of the Magical World,” on his own.

…

The next morning brought Transfiguration, with Dumbledore once again guiding the young witches and wizards in turning matches into needles.

Ever since discussing the wonders of magical power with Dumbledore, Xiwen felt as though a new world had opened up to him; ordinary transfiguration posed no challenge at all. With the professor’s permission, he began practicing the higher-level spell of transforming beetles into buttons, much to the envy of nearby Elxiona, who had only just mastered the match-to-needle transformation.

That afternoon’s Charms class was also a practical lesson. After demonstrating the spell, Professor Woflin instructed the students to cast the Levitation Charm on a feather.

Having spent countless hours at home immersed in Charms, Xiwen found the basic spell effortless; the feather floated easily, and he even guided it through a graceful pattern in midair. Professor Woflin, impressed, awarded Slytherin house ten points.

When Charms ended, every Slytherin first-year eagerly dashed toward the grassy field on the castle’s northwest side. They were about to attend their very first Flying Lesson at Hogwarts!

…

Before they reached the lawn, sharp-eyed Abraxas spotted two neat rows of broomsticks lying on the green grass in the distance.

“Look! Broomsticks!” he shouted, running gleefully toward them.

First-years weren’t allowed to bring their own brooms, and with his roommates unwilling to accompany him to the Quidditch pitch to borrow upperclassmen’s brooms, Abraxas had clearly been holding back his excitement for too long.

As they drew closer, Xiwen saw a handsome, athletic middle-aged wizard standing between the rows of brooms. He wore a sky-blue robe, with two dark blue letters “T” emblazoned on his chest—apparently representing a team.

“Merlin’s beard, am I seeing things?” cried a Hufflepuff boy nearby, his yellow-collared uniform standing out. “That’s the Tornadoes’ jersey! I can’t believe it—Rodry Plenton?!”

The man in blue smiled amiably at the Hufflepuff student. “Even in retirement, there are still people who recognize me. I’m truly touched,” he said.

The young wizards and witches erupted in excitement, scarcely able to believe they were looking at Rodry Plenton, the legendary Seeker of the Tutshill Tornadoes.

Plenton raised his hands for silence. Once the initial wave of awe had subsided, he addressed them: “Regardless of my past, today I stand here in a different role. Allow me to introduce myself: I am your new Flying Instructor, Rodry Plenton. You may call me Professor Plenton!”

Thunderous applause broke out, refusing to subside for some time.

Amid the commotion, Xiwen quietly sidled up to Abraxas and whispered, “Was Professor Plenton really that famous?”

Abraxas stared at him in disbelief, as if astounded by the question. “How could you not have heard of Rodry Plenton? He’s the legendary Seeker of the Tutshill Tornadoes, won the League Cup five times in a row, and still holds the record for fastest Snitch catch in a single match!”

Xiwen nodded, enlightened. With such impressive achievements, no wonder the students were so excited.

Once the applause finally died down, Professor Plenton instructed the students to line up in two rows by height—Slytherin on one side, Hufflepuff on the other. At his direction, each student stood beside a broomstick.

He then cautioned them all, his tone serious and attentive. “Remember, flying is not without danger. First-years haven’t learned the spells needed to protect themselves if they fall from great heights. Attempting to fly unsupervised is not only dangerous, but foolish! That’s why the school doesn’t allow first-years to bring personal brooms.”

He paused, then raised his right hand high, his voice full of energy. “Now, the exciting part begins! Get ready for your first test flight!”

…

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