Chapter 138: The Hedgehog and the Professor About to Retire

“‘Flesh Shaping’?” Madam Pince looked at the slip Silven handed her, then gave him a skeptical glance. “Are you certain Professor McGonagall sent you for this book?”

“Of course it’s Professor McGonagall—her signature is right here,” Silven said.

“Strange. Why would Minerva sign a perpetual loan slip?” Madam Pince held the parchment up to the light, as if inspecting for forgery.

But her words made Silven understand what the horizontal line meant… it meant he could return the book whenever he wished.

Eventually, the slip passed her inspection. She told Silven to wait, then walked between the towering shelves, returning about fifteen minutes later with what he needed.

Seven old, thick volumes were placed on the table in three trips. Silven noticed one had two rusted iron chains wrapped around its cover.

Silven was curious what could possibly be written inside that book to warrant being chained up.

But he could imagine it was nothing like textbook material—no wonder Professor McGonagall had specifically warned him not to let anyone else see it.

Silven put the books into a shape-shifting lizard-skin bag and left the library.

But those chains gave him a good idea—he might add a similar protective casing to his Horcrux grimoire.

After all, it wasn’t like a traditional wand; it could even function as a unique weapon.

But iron chains wouldn’t work—they were too heavy and would drain his magic unnecessarily when flying.

As he thought this, Silven walked out of the library.

With the exam date drawing near, nearly every table in the library was taken by fifth- and seventh-year students.

Back in the common room, Silven saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione huddled together again, but this time, before he could get close, they hurried off.

Silven pulled out the Marauder’s Map and saw they were again outside Lockhart’s office.

A few minutes later, Harry entered the office. Ron and Hermione waited at the corridor’s corner, then slowly moved to the doorway and stopped.

They really are going head-to-head with Lockhart.

But this time, Silven felt neither curiosity nor concern. He tucked the Marauder’s Map away and returned to his dorm to read.

First, he took out the book with the chains. Since Professor McGonagall had allowed him to borrow it, the book itself couldn’t be dangerous—he felt reassured.

What puzzled Silven was that the chains seemed intrinsic to the book—there was no lock, no opening mechanism to be found.

He tried prying the chains loose from the side, but it did nothing. And when his palm touched the cover, the book suddenly began to shake violently.

Silven instinctively let go. The book fell to the floor, then transformed before him into a hedgehog, straining to sprint out the window.

Silven was genuinely startled. By the time he recovered his wits, the hedgehog had already darted past him.

Realizing the door was shut, it turned its attention to the window on the other side.

“Crash!” It knocked over a chair, leapt onto the table, and shot toward the windowsill with blinding speed—then launched itself.

But Silven had already drawn his wand and swung it hard.

“Wingardium Leviosa!”

Another book floated up and blocked its path.

The hedgehog slammed into it and fell heavily. It tried to rise again, but Silven pointed his wand at it once more.

“Stupefy!”

The spell struck the hedgehog, but only caused a brief pause. Silven followed with Petrificus Totalus—still no effect.

This thing seemed immune to magic entirely.

The next second, Silven suddenly realized something and swapped the incantation on his lips from a Binding Charm to a Transfiguration spell.

This time it worked. The hedgehog stiffened, froze in place, and Silven tried turning it into a snail—only for it to instantly revert to the chained book.

And now the chains had snapped in half, easily openable.

Silven picked up the book and placed it on the table, curious to read it.

He expected shocking content—but it wasn’t. The book contained nothing but standard, detailed explanations of Transfiguration, even more comprehensive than “Advanced Transfiguration: A Guide.”

This didn’t look like a banned book at all…

Oh, wait.

Silven suddenly remembered: the first time he tried turning the hedgehog into a slipper, it had frozen. The second time, when he used a more complex animal Transfiguration, it had reverted to the book.

He realized—if his animal Transfiguration wasn’t proficient enough, the hedgehog would remain frozen, not revert.

In other words, some Transfiguration master had written this book and, on a whim, added a clever little test… only a truly skilled wizard could access its contents.

If that were true, then yes, this book belonged in the Restricted Section—if anyone could borrow it, Hogwarts would soon become a hedgehog sanctuary.

Silven glanced at the name on the cover: Cogrid Gray.

He had no recollection of the name—probably an ancient wizard.

Just before class, Silven closed the book, and the chains reconnected.

It seemed he’d need to pass the Transfiguration test again to read it next time—he should’ve left it open.

Silven left the common room, jogging to the entrance hall to head to the greenhouses for Herbology.

As he passed the Black Lake, he unexpectedly saw Dumbledore speaking with an old wizard missing half an arm and one leg.

“Do me a favor, Albus—I really should retire,” the old wizard said. “I hope you’ve already found someone to replace me.”

“Of course, Silvanus. I’m deeply grateful for your service to Hogwarts,” Dumbledore said, his gaze falling to the brace on the wizard’s right knee. “But could you please teach through this year?”

“Of course,” the old wizard answered without hesitation. “Just this one year is no problem.”

A professor covered in injuries… retiring…

Silven now knew who he was: Silvanus Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures professor.

In “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them,” Newt Scamander called him “the bravest fool of the modern age” (a compliment, presumably).

He was passionate about magical creatures—and had lost sixty bones because of it.

He lost half an arm studying Hungarian Horntails, and a leg studying Peruvian Vipertooths.

He “embraced” a Runespoor and had five ribs replaced with prosthetics.

…

These incidents appeared every few pages.

Oh, and he’d received a joint gift from every Healer at St. Mungo’s for twelve consecutive years: “Basic Protective Charms Guide.”

In that light, Professor Kettleburn was truly a legendary wizard.

He’s retiring?

Of course—he’s in no condition to teach students daily.

Then who will replace him? Still Hagrid?

Silven felt uncertain.

After all, Hagrid was accused fifty years ago of killing a classmate… though everyone knew he wasn’t the real killer, he was expelled and his wand was snapped.

Until the true culprit was caught, Hagrid couldn’t even openly use a wand, let alone become a Hogwarts professor.

But now… because of his involvement, the diary of Tom Riddle—the only proof of Hagrid’s innocence—was utterly destroyed, and the mastermind himself, Tom Riddle, was reduced to only a quarter of his original form.

Under these circumstances, could the truth of fifty years ago ever come to light?

Silven slowed his steps, then stopped. He wanted to tell Dumbledore—but they were still talking, clearly not the right moment.

Silven decided to wait.

“By the way, Albus, have you found my replacement yet?” Professor Kettleburn asked. “I suggest you find a strong new professor. The creatures in the Forbidden Forest aren’t easy to get along with—if you’re not strong enough, they’ll tear you apart by tomorrow.”

“The Forbidden Forest isn’t that terrifying, Silvanus. The Bowtruckles won’t bite off someone’s ear on purpose,” Dumbledore glanced at the wizard’s half-ear, then added: “If word of that gets out, it’ll create a lot of trouble for me.”

“So… you haven’t found a suitable professor yet?”

“No, quite the opposite—I’ve already found one,” Dumbledore smiled. “And he fits your requirements perfectly.”

“Good. I hope this new professor still has a full body when he retires.”

“I think that won’t be a problem.”

…

As they spoke, they walked farther away—heading toward Hogsmeade.

This made Silven hesitate—should he interrupt them?

And just then, the class bell rang from the castle.

Never mind—he’d tell them later. Silven turned and ran toward the greenhouses.

After all, Professor Kettleburn won’t retire until next year—telling Dumbledore now wouldn’t change anything.

(End of Chapter)