Legend of Hogwarts (Harry Potter x League of Legends)

As someone who had always been fond of courting disaster, and who was, technically, already dead, Peeves the Poltergeist was truly fearless. Aside from Dumbledore and the Bloody Baron, only a few professors ever earned even a modicum of respect from him. This emboldened him to unveil his newest, off-key composition during dinner... right in the Great Hall.

As you might imagine, the moment the song began, nearly every first-year flushed crimson. The bustling dining hall suddenly fell awkwardly silent, the loudest of the new students all simultaneously became inexplicably fascinated with their food. Even empty plates were fussed over, as they mimed the motions of eating only to realize their plates were bare.

Fortunately, although Dumbledore himself was not present for dinner, several other professors were. They swiftly put a stop to Peeves’s second rendition, if not, the first-years might never have made it through their meal.

”Professor Sigma! Don’t you think you’ve gone a bit too far?” Professor McGonagall confronted him after driving off the mischief-making Peeves and hearing the full story from her students.

Normally stern and composed, Professor McGonagall’s fury was something to behold, enough to chill anyone to the bone.

Thus, the first-years finally learned the name of the professor who had cast such a terrifying shadow over them: Professor Sigma.

”Oh, calm down, Professor McGonagall,” Sigma replied casually, a picture of unbothered ease. ”As you can see, no harm has come to these youngsters. If anything, a little knock to their pride might actually motivate them to study harder. Don’t you think so?”

”But...” McGonagall began, attempting to argue.

She was quickly cut off.

”Oh, come now, Professor McGonagall. You must have more faith in your students. Their potential clearly exceeds your expectations. Several of them successfully cast spells today, some even completed the entire classroom task ahead of time. You’ve coddled them too much. So please, don’t interfere with my teaching.”

Left speechless, McGonagall was forced to concede the point. Each professor had autonomy over their own class’s curriculum. Just as she had never managed to rein in Divination Professor Trelawney despite her disdain, she couldn’t interfere with Sigma’s methods. Dumbledore alone held the power to hire or dismiss staff. And as long as the students weren’t harmed and could perform basic spells, there was technically nothing wrong with the class.

Thanks to Peeves’s antics, dinner ended on a sour note. However, no one mocked the first-years, Sigma’s class wasn’t limited to them. Defense Against the Dark Arts was taught to all years at Hogwarts. And if Sigma was this intense with the new students, what horrors awaited the older ones?

Unlike first-years, upper-year classes were scheduled to begin in the second week, allegedly because the professor was waiting on certain teaching materials. At first, older students had celebrated the unexpected break, but now, uncertainty about what ”teaching tools” might entail left many of them deeply unsettled.

As a result, the library was packed all weekend with students researching every possible protection spell they could find. No one wanted to end up as humiliated as the first-years, especially the older students, many of whom now had reputations (and romantic interests) to uphold. No one wanted to be seen drenched in who-knows-what.

This general panic softened the professors’ earlier irritation toward Sigma. After all, fear had sparked a frenzy of studying.

But none of this concerned Allen. With a rough map of the castle’s layout now in his head, he began scouting out the hidden passages he vaguely remembered. It was a massive undertaking, he could barely recall the fine details of the original story anymore.

Fortunately, hidden passages often left subtle clues. Thanks to a mix of instinct and half-remembered lore, Allen managed to uncover several usable shortcuts. One, to his delight, was the tunnel that led to Hogsmeade Village.

This made Allen long for the Marauder’s Map even more. Sadly, though he wasn’t sure exactly when Fred and George would come into possession of it, he knew for certain they didn’t have it yet. After all, their legendary feud with Filch hadn’t even begun.

••┈┈┈┈┈༓┈┈┈┈┈•••

After the weekend of exploring, Allen noticed a marked shift in the school’s atmosphere.

It started with Transfiguration. Originally, the week’s lesson was meant to be transforming peas into buttons. But when they arrived at the classroom, Professor McGonagall handed out grass ropes instead. Their new assignment? Turning the ropes into nets.

This threw many students off, especially those who had studied ahead. Even Allen barely managed to produce a net so lopsided and misshapen that it was painful to look at.

McGonagall was clearly unimpressed. The class was assigned what could only be described as a mountain of homework.

Next was Herbology. Professor Sprout taught them about an advanced plant known as the Snapgrass. Its blossoms gave off a rich fruity aroma and had mild anesthetic properties, commonly used in healing potions.

At the end of class, each student was given a small pot of almost-blooming Snapgrass and assigned an observational and usage report as homework.

Notably, Allen received ten extra points for helping hand out tools, a rare act of favoritism from the famously impartial Professor Sprout.

In Charms class, they learned a spell that was, frankly, almost useless, the Noise Jinx. According to Professor Flitwick, it was a harmless prank spell used to annoy unwanted visitors.

The last surprise came from none other than Professor Snape.

Under his withering sarcasm, the students began brewing a potion not even mentioned in the textbook, a common insect repellent, according to him.

All of these off-syllabus lessons had the first-years on the brink of collapse, especially with the dreaded Friday Defense Against the Dark Arts class looming. Many still couldn’t consistently cast a proper Shield Charm, let alone hit a darting bat midair with a spell they barely understood.

Yet complaining did little. Facing angry professors after failing homework was just as terrifying, if not more so, than a swarm of bats. Especially when the angry professor was also your Head of House. Given the choice between facing the unknown gunk again or the wrath of McGonagall, most opted for the former.

But just as the students were grumbling through their assignments, something strange happened, they got easier.

All the sudden changes to the curriculum, however difficult, had a clear purpose. Every lesson, in its own way, was designed to train their accuracy, control, or reflexes. All skills needed to fight the bats.

It became clear: Professor Sigma had been ”targeted” by the other Heads of House, who were quietly buffing their students to survive his lessons.

••┈┈┈┈┈༓┈┈┈┈┈•••

P.S.: Since no one applied for the job, let’s take a moment to salute the brave soul who did, Professor Sigma.

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