Soon, it was Friday, time for the first Magical Creatures lesson.

This is Hoffa's first formal Magical Creatures class at school, of course, if it is not considered formal. In fact, he has learned a lot about Magical Creatures in the first grade.

Poison Sac Leopard, Crooked Devil, Thunderbird, Centaur, etc.

However, since the death of the centaur in the Forbidden Forest and the explosion in the school, it is difficult for Hoffa to imagine that there are any magical creatures in Hogwarts now.

He was a little curious about the content of this class. He was even more curious about what kind of person Aglaia's father was, and he didn't even attend the opening party.

The venue for the Magical Creatures class was placed at the junction of the Forbidden Forest and the Black Lake. It had rained that morning, and the sky was a refreshing light gray. The grass underfoot was wet and very elastic when stepped on.

When Hoffa arrived here with his textbooks, there were already many, many students waiting here. They were standing on the grass wearing red, blue, green, and yellow wizard robes. There were so many people that Hoffa almost died.

I thought there was a Quidditch game here.

It seems that no matter whether they are senior students or junior students, everyone hopes to be selected to participate in special training in the Magical Creatures class so as to get rid of the extremely heavy academic work at Hogwarts this year.

However, as this was the first magical creature class, Hoffa did not see any magical creatures here. He only saw a few tables arranged randomly, with some neatly folded gray clothes placed on the tables.

If you look closely, these clothes are actually swimsuits.

Hoffa didn't quite understand what this was for. Why did the Magical Creatures class prepare swimsuits instead of magical creatures?

While the students present were talking a lot,

Violent magic fluctuations came from the center of the crowd.

Everyone quickly dispersed.

A burst of gray fog dissipated, and a young man holding a cigarette walked out of the gray fog.

He was wearing a black wizard leather jacket, with several silver scimitars tied around his waist, and his silver hair was tied into a ponytail. He looked very capable. But in sharp contrast to his lean appearance, were his eyes. His eyelids were drooped.

, looking like he had just woken up from sleep, coupled with his slightly hunched body as thin as a bamboo pole, he looked extremely listless.

"Hiss." He blew out a smoke ring and asked, "Is everyone here?"

Seeing the young man walking out of nothingness with a cigarette in his mouth, Hoffa narrowed his eyes and thought for a moment. He looked at the other man's silver hair. Then he looked at Aglaia, who was standing next to Sherlock Bohan in the crowd.

An extremely confused sense of absurdity appeared in his mind.

Could it be that this boy who looks no more than two years older than himself is actually Aglaia's...father?

Is it really her father?

It's fake.

You know, Aglaia's mother has crow's feet at the corners of her eyes, but he still looks about the same age as herself.

Who can bear this!

Could this be related to the elf blood in his body? The elves in mythology seem to live a long life...

He turned his head mechanically and stared at Aglaia's face, hoping to get some clues from it. But there was no expression on her face at all, almost numb, and she just clenched her fists.

Not only Hoffa was surprised, but other students were also extremely surprised. However, Hoffa was surprised because he guessed that he was Aglaia's father, but the other students were surprised because of his attitude.

The words of Fatir Drases had just left his mouth.

A tall Gryffindor student stood up with his arms akimbo: "Hey, who are you?"

"My name is Fatil Saroyan Drases. You can just call me Fatil." The tall and thin man said with a hunched back and no energy.

"Fatil?"

The students around him exclaimed in disbelief.

"Are you the Magical Creatures teacher?"

"Hey, how old are you?" a girl exclaimed on the spot.

"This is my privacy, miss." He exhaled a puff of smoke and said.

"Thin and young..."

The tall Gryffindor crossed his arms and looked at Fatir up and down: "Are you kidding? You will be cursed if you lie to others!"

Fatir pointed to the silver faculty badge on his chest, without any intention of explaining too much.

The sign couldn't be faked, and the students began to whisper.

"This guy is really a teacher..."

"Is the principal really crazy?"

"Or is he actually a relative of the principal?"

"Not even relatives. Does he think Hogwarts is his home?"

...

While he was talking, several more Gryffindors in red robes gathered around him.

"Hey, teacher, why don't you prove yourself first?"

Hoffa narrowed his eyes and stood aside without saying a word. He could understand the dissatisfaction of the Gryffindors. This Fatir looked like he was only in fifth grade, and was younger than the average person present.

How can students in sixth and seventh grade be convinced?

He was also very curious about how this seemingly young professor could impress these unruly senior Gryffindor students.

But Fatil didn't make any extra moves. He just took a puff of cigarette decadently on the spot and said calmly: "If you fall in love, don't fall in love."

As soon as these words came out, several Gryffindors took a breath, raised their arms with their eyes widened. However, their ferocious movements were ignored by Professor Drases.

He exhaled a smoke ring, looked around, and asked feebly: "What are you holding in your hands, bricks?"

"Textbooks." someone answered.

"Oh, I thought you were going to build a wall with this thing." De Lacese said with a touch of sarcasm.

The students glanced at the textbooks in their hands and showed incomprehensible expressions. Hoffa immediately found something in common between this guy and Aglaia. It turns out that being mean can be hereditary... It’s just that this guy has changed from beginning to end.

Ouya didn't even look at his daughter.

Is Aglaia really her biological child?

He threw the cigarette butt on the ground and stamped it out, then lit another one. He looked no different from a street gangster:

"Before I came, Principal Dippet told me that this year Hogwarts will cultivate elites at all costs. Do you want to become elites?"

"I think..." the student replied without confidence, not even knowing what kind of medicine this young teacher was selling.

"Then throw away the textbooks in your hands." He said lazily.

"Why?" Someone immediately began to object angrily.

De Lacese: "Because it's useless."

The corners of the crowd's mouths twitched, and some people retorted. They were very unhappy with this young professor, "The textbook teaches us magic knowledge. Without knowledge, how can we become elites?"

"Oh, it's very simple." Fatil de Lasese blew out a smoke ring, "Let's play."

The student couldn't help it any longer, and the crowd began to snicker, and then the snickering turned into laughter. Finally, the student laughed so hard that he couldn't even hold his medicine straight, and the thin boy just stood in the crowd and smoked.

They had no intention of stopping them.

Hoffa couldn't help but glance at Aglaia, and saw that her face turned red and white, and her eyes were full of incomprehension and strangeness.

At this time, the students' laughter ended, and a Slytherin student stood up and said sarcastically: "Professor Dracese, we didn't come to Hogwarts to have fun."

"Then what are you going to do?" Fadil looked at the boy with dead fish eyes.

"Learn magic knowledge, become strong, and survive in this troubled world." The boy vowed.

"That's what you think."

"That's right."

"What about you?" Derasese asked someone else.

"Of course, I'm not here to play." The boy said the same.

De Lacese asked Hoffa again, "Do you think so too?"

Hoffa thought about it carefully, and he had this idea in his head when he was in first grade. Although after two years of baptism, this idea has faded a little now, but there is no doubt that he definitely hopes that he can be stronger.

"I think the same as them," Hoffa affirmed.

Drases: "So, that's what you all think? Study hard and become stronger, right?"

"That's right." These students replied in unison.

Fatir Drases nodded with satisfaction and said: "I was indeed wrong. Everyone here is a motivated idiot."

The crowd was in an uproar.

"Hey, who are you scolding?"

"Professor can't talk like that!"

"Is there a professor like you?"

"What kind of inexplicable madman appears from nowhere?"
To be continued...