"It's rubbish! Utter rubbish! Umbridge isn't going to teach us a thing! I'd put a galleon that we don't cast a spell the whole year!" Ron's voice carries down the entire stone hallway of Hogwarts and draws Hermione from her troubled thoughts. "Even bloody Lockheart was better, and all that ponce wanted to do was strut up and down the classroom and talk about how he 'vanquished' some bloody dog spirit or whatever…"
"Kitsune, Ron," Hermione corrects her red-headed friend without even thinking. "Lockheart said his newest book was about how he banished a kitsune, a fox spirit, that was inhabiting the body of a young woman." Hermione shakes her head a little, feeling silly that she fell for Lockheart's charming hero act. One only needs to read a bit about the Japanese spirits in question to realize something: even if Lockheart was as good as he pretended, going toe-to-toe with a kitsune is a tall order for any wizard. Even the weakest of the fox spirits are rated XXXXX class by the Ministry of Magic.
Ron merely shrugs. "Same difference."
'It's really not,' Hermione frowns.
Between Ron and Hermione, Harry finally speaks. "I'm just hoping this class isn't like DADA…" he grumbles, obviously still upset with the unfair detention he's going to be forced to serve with Umbridge tonight. "Who ever heard of a Care of Magical Creatures class in an actual classroom? They're always outside."
As Ron groans at the realization, Hermione thinks back to the new CoMC professor introduced the night prior.
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"Now, we have two changes in staffing this year," Headmaster Dumbledore smiles like a model grandfather behind his podium at the head of the great hall. "As Professor Hagrid is taking a temporary leave of absence, please welcome this year's Care of Magical Creatures professor, Mister Lee Henson!"
Hermione, Ron, and Harry all focus on the man who replaced one of their favorite teachers.
At the staff table, seated between Professor Sprout and Professor McGonagall, Professor Henson stands.
Professor Henson is… Shockingly plain, if the trio of hair-raising, claw-like scars on the left of his face are discounted. The man is tall and lean, with a slight suntan uncommon to the British Isles. Under his black robe are a collared shirt, a tie, and slacks that would draw no eyes in either the wizarding or muggle worlds. The man stands and smiles amid polite applause from the students, waving to everyone for a moment before sitting back down.
Hermione's eyes narrow.
When the professor waved, she spied a number of curious spheres hooked to the right of his belt, each one the size of a golf ball and numbering roughly six. They were nothing like any other wizarding tool she's seen before. When she laid eyes on the first one… the young witch swore she felt eyes peering back at her…
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As the trio reach the end of the hallway and push the door to the classroom open, Hermione can't help but flush in embarrassment as many eyes turn to look at them.
They're the last ones to arrive.
"Ah, there you are! You three made it with a minute to spare." At the front of the room, Professor Henson is seated on the front of his desk with a smile on his face, seemingly not upset by the close call. His robe is gone from his person, and his sleeves are rolled back, showing the class a number of scars on his arms, though nowhere near as severe as the ones upon his face. "Go ahead and sit down. Class starts in just a minute," he says, his voice unmistakably American.
As the trio sit down at one of the open, three-person desks, Hermione takes a moment to examine the classroom.
Unlike other classrooms, which are decorated to the tastes and needs of their teacher, the CoMC classroom is rather spartan. There are desks, the Professor's desk, a chalkboard, a few bookshelves against the wall, a curious glass case bearing eight differently shaped pins, and that's it. It's as though the professor brought nothing of his own into the castle.
"Blimey, what's that thing?" Ron suddenly asks under his breath, pointing a subtle finger at the professor.
Following Ron's finger, Hermione… isn't quite sure what she's looking at, and she's not alone if the whispers in the classroom are any indicator.
Stepping out from behind the professor's desk is a gold-furred fox of mammoth proportions. The vulpine must dwarf the average Great Dane and then some, at its large enough to rest its head in the professor's lap even with the professor sitting on his desk. As it walks, its dainty paws are completely silent, and the multiple tails sprouting from its spine all form a majestic fan shape behind it. As the fox sits beside the professor, piercing red eyes that shine like gemstones scan the class.
Hermione shivers as the eyes pass over her, hitting her with the same sensation she felt at the opening feast last night.
"Hey there, love. You finished your nap just in time to help out with class," Professor Henson smiles and strokes the beast behind its ear, and Hermione swears she sees the fox smile a little. The professor then looks up at the clock on the wall and hums to himself. "Okay, top of the hour, so let's get started. We'll begin with roll call, do intros, the syllabus, and whatnot," the professor says, taking a piece of parchment from his desk. Clearing his throat, the professor reads off each name.
As roll call takes place, Hermione can't help but let her eyes be drawn to the fox at the professor's side again. Even without the fox looking at her, the young witch shifts in unease, for something prods her atrophied instincts, demanding she remains alert. She almost forgets to say "Here!" when her name is called.
Once the roll call ends, the professor sets the list of names aside and stands up. "Okay, everyone. It's the first day, so I won't load you down with work. Once we get intros and the syllabus out of the way, we'll use the rest of the period for questions, either about me, the lessons, or whatever you wish."
Both the Gryffindor and Slytherin students give a short cheer upon learning they have a little less homework.
The professor clears his throat, and the sound calms the cheers. "Before we begin, does anyone have any pressing questions that can't wait?"
"Professor," Harry speaks up, and Hermione cringes a little at the unspoken accusation in Harry's voice and narrowed eyes. "Why did you replace Hagrid? And where is Hagrid?"
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The golden fox's head snaps up, its red eyes staring hateful holes into Harry.
To his credit, Harry doesn't flinch.
Professor Henson places a gentle hand on his fox's head, and it turns its head away with a growl. "It sounds like you were fond of Professor Hagrid. Mister Potter was it?" The professor shakes his head ruefully. "Well, I didn't want to replace Professor Hagrid. It sounds like he was a beloved fixture in the school. Heck, if we're being honest, I didn't want to be a teacher at all." The man's words cause an outbreak of whispers. "Headmaster Dumbledore… got me out of a spot of legal trouble with the ministry recently. Nothing criminal, just a case of traveling paperwork that wasn't up to snuff. In return, he asked me to teach while Professor Hagrid is away, saying you all would benefit from my insight. As for what Professor Hagrid is doing?" He shrugs. "It's not my business, so I didn't ask."
Harry frowns, obviously unsatisfied, but he doesn't speak out anymore.
Near the back of the room, Hermione can hear Malfoy scoff and mutter something to the Slytherin beside him.
The gold fox's ears perk.
"Mister Malfoy!" The professor speaks up suddenly, causing more than one student to jump. "This 'yank' has ears, but they're not good enough to hear all the way back there. Can you speak up, please?" He asks, leveling the blonde Slytherin with an unamused face.
Flushed red in embarrassment, Malfoy stands up and clears his throat. "I was merely wondering about your qualifications, professor," Malfoy's usual tone is replaced with the faux-politeness he uses for professors other than Snape. "Our last professor had none, so as you can understand, I have concerns."
Hermione has to clamp her hand over Harry's arm to keep her friend from standing up and loudly defending Hagrid.
Professor Henson and his fox meet eyes for a second, then the professor hums in thought again. "Let's turn this into a lesson, then. I do possess a magizoologist certification, and based on my partner here, I'll let you deduce what class of creatures I'm rated to handle. Nine, if you would?"
The fox, apparently named 'Nine', steps forward and stands before the class in a side profile, giving everyone an ample view of her. She lets out a human-like sigh and gives the professor a half-hearted glare.
"Now," Professor Henson claps his hand together once and ignores the red eyes digging into him. "I'm sure everyone can see her rough resemblance to a mundane fox. The first one to deduce her species and ministry classification based on current observations gets twenty-five points for their house. Let's give it…" He glances up at the clock. "Fifteen minutes. If you know the answer, raise your hand. Go!"
Everyone quickly rushes to open their bags and pull out their books, and the class is filled with the sound of turning pages and hushed discussion. Beside Hermione, Harry opens his own book while Ron just drops his head to the desk, already giving up. "Any ideas, Hermione?" Harry asks, looking over his glasses at her.
"A few…" Hermione's eyes comb over the fox, taking in every detail from the gold fur, to the red eyes, to the tufts of fur on her chest and head. Then Hermione moves to the tails. "Hold on…" Her eyes narrow in thought, and she silently counts the number of tails she sees. "...Seven, eight… nine…" The muggleborn witch feels her veins ice over. 'There is no way the professor brought one here. It's impossible to tame one.' She counts the tails again, and once more, there are nine of them.
There are a few groans from the Slytherin students as Hermione's shaking hand rises, but Professor Henson ignores them and points Hermione's way. "Yes, Miss… Granger, right?"
"Y-Yes, professor…" Hermione gulps, acutely aware of the fox staring at her. She dares not meet the spirit's eyes. "Your friend… Is she a nine-tailed kitsune?"
A few whispers break out in response in the classroom.
"Kitsune? What's that?"
"Never seen one before. Foreign, innit?"
"I saw 'em mentioned in some Asian comic book once."
Both the professor and the Nine the kitsune seem surprised. "Well now…" He smiles at the kitsune, who is seemingly sulking as if she lost some unspoken bet. "Considering Nine's kind aren't native to Europe, I didn't expect anyone to get that. Bravo!" The professor lightly applauds. "If you want to elaborate on what a kitsune is for the class, Miss Granger, I could be convinced to part with more points."
Hermione licks her lips and thinks to herself, trying to find an answer that is not only correct, but stresses the unreal danger that everyone is currently in. The last thing they need is someone like Malfoy or his hanger-ons accidentally damning them all for an errant insult.
"The k-kitsune…" Hermione pauses and steadies herself. "The kitsune is a mythical creature from Japanese folklore that is often depicted as a fox with supernatural powers. Kitsune are associated with various attributes, such as wisdom, intelligence, trickery, curses, and various powerful magics."
The mention of curses makes everyone quiet down and pay attention.
Hermione continues, her voice picking up strength. "One of the most famous versions of the kitsune is the Kyuubi no Kitsune or the 'Nine-tailed fox'. In Japanese folklore, the nine-tailed fox is a powerful creature that can live for centuries. It is said that the more tails a kitsune has, the more powerful it is, with each tail representing an accumulated century of power."
The more Hermione goes on, the more the danger sinks in to her classmates. For a moment, Hermione thinks about telling everyone about the legendary kitsune Tamamo-no-mae, a kitsune seen as a monster and unstoppable engine of destruction after slaying thousands of soldiers and wizards in ancient Japan. She holds her tongue at the last second, fearing the fox in the classroom might take the comparison as a slight.
"A nine-tailed kitsune is said to possess intelligence and an understanding of magic superior to that of a human. They are natural shape-shifters, capable of transforming into a human form, other animals, or inanimate objects. They can utilize pyromancy, telekinesis, mind magics, illusions, wards, various dark magics, spiritual magics, space-time magics, unbreakable curses, and many others." Hermione takes a breath. "The oldest and most powerful kitsune are the Tenko, who are nine-tailed kitsune with white or golden fur. It's said these kitsune have divine powers, and they're thusly worshiped…" She hesitates, finally looking at the kitsune in the room, but not at her eyes, "as holy spirits and deities."
The classroom is utterly silent as Hermione takes her seat once more. From the corner of her eyes, she sees Harry look mystified, and Ron deathly pale.
The young witch looks forward again, at the living legend at the front of the room.
The kitsune seems to draw the eyes of everyone in, and Hermione can feel an ethereal weight upon her head and shoulders, pushing her down as if compelling her to bow. As the seconds pass, it grows heavier and heavier.
"Love, stop it! You're making the kids nervous."
The weight vanishes, and more than one student suddenly gasps when it does.
Nine the kitsune turns and stares up at the professor with a sour look on her muzzle.
The professor kneels down to her level and takes Nine's cheeks in his hands, smooshing her face as if she were a lapdog and not a thousand-year-old terror. A growl rolls out of the kitsune's throat, and Hermione mentally prepares herself to see what kind of horror will be inflicted on her teacher.
"So dramatic…" Professor Henson clicks his tongue. "Corvi is enough of a drama queen for all seven of us. You don't need to compete."
Nine's jaws dart out and nip the professor right on the tip of his nose.
"Ow!" He stands and rubs his nose, which is still on his face, miraculously. "Love hurts, it seems."
The kitsune snorts, seating herself and wrapping her tails around her legs. After a moment of fidgeting, she sighs and stands again. The fox rises to her hind legs, braces her forepaws on the professor's shoulders, and gives him a short, affectionate lick on his nose, right over where she bit him.
"The feared Lady Ninetales, kissing boo boos better. What would Battlenet say?" The professor chuckles as Nine sits once more. "Anyway…" Professor Henson rolls his eyes and turns his gaze to Hermione. "To finish up the question, what is Nine's ministry rating, Miss Granger?"
'I don't think I was ready for today…' Hermione sighs, feeling the mental exhaustion of Umbridge's non-class and whatever this is catching up to her. "Class 5, or XXXXX, sir." Then the professor's earlier words return to her and her eyes widen. "Wait, professor, you said earlier that you're certified to handle creatures in the same class as Miss Nine, correct? That would mean-"
The professor smiles and raises a hand, halting her. "Class, allow me to introduce myself properly and put any doubts to rest. My name is Lee Henson, and I'm the first person since Newton Scamander to be certified in the handling and care of Class XXXXX creatures."