Professor Black Hogwarts Legacy Novels & Stories

Rin’s eyes welled up with tears again. “Luna, are you doubting me? Do you really think I tried to seduce the professor? If I didn’t allow him to apply the medicine, the silver poison would have eaten away at my wolf spirit. He had no choice! How could you… how could you think that of us?” The truth stabbed me like a knife. Trevor had already seen and already touched every inch of her body. My limbs went numb and stiff. I did not know how to react, only that when I finally spoke, even my voice was breaking.

Eliana's POV I got to the park five minutes earlier than Professor Mathews. After what happened during our last meeting, he decided it would be best if we met at anywhere other than a restaurant. I didn't really see the need, since it was highly unlikely that we would encounter Oliver again. But Professor Mathews insisted that it would be safer and I agreed. I was already seated on one of the numerous benches in the park when I caught sight of a mass of black hair with a few grey streaks approaching. He was dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans. Him being dressed casually seemed to have miraculously shaved ten years off whatever his age was.

Jackson's expression grew even heavier. So, when will this romantic drama ever end? ... Cloud City University. Office of the Astronomy Department's Dean. "Nathaniel, I've reviewed your research proposal this time, and it's indeed impressive. It's quite rare for a student to have such profound insights into the topic of black holes from their perspective..." Professor Blackwell, the silver-haired Dean of the Astronomy Department, glanced at the paper in his hands, adjusted his glasses, and looked at the well-groomed student sitting in front of him with a calm tone.

Professor Morsa's face was still quite pale and mentally tired. Professor Morsa is the one who teaches the subject Of Werewolf Magic Analysis. Because they hadn't received new books and modules, Hana, Henry, and Jackson didn't carry any items. Even so, Professor Morsa didn't say a word to them until the end of the session. They don't know how Sir. Powen convinced Professor Morsa, but he hadn't accepted Hana, Henry, and Jackson's presence in the class. The first class at D.Ruck ended in boredom and frustration.

Drake kept looking so bad at me that I ignored him. "Good morning, everyone." She’s our professor, Prof. Rose. She's our Spell Professor. She’ in her mid-30’s. She wears a thick glasses, wavy hair, and an elf's ears. Her thick spectacles could not hide the beauty she possessed. She also always carries a thick book where all the spells are. She said that her ancestor entrusted it to her so she did not let it disappear from her sight. Because when it goes in the wrong hands, something may go wrong.

The professor's face was pockmarked and his unruly white hair seemed to sprout from every area that wasn't dirty from the soot of some grotesque unstable experiment, and for some reason his breath smelled of sulfur. Indeed, Professor Plegeus was reputed to be one of the only members of the school who was still actively experimenting and attempting to broaden the scope of their science rather than simply passing on previously received knowledge and honing delicate skills such as enchanting objects, the inscription of scrolls, the preparation of potions with proven formulas and the control of mana for the spells. Viktor found himself staring into the bulging, pin-tipped eyes of the maddened ma

a voice boomed from the front. I froze. That voice. All eyes turned to me, I hate when I'm the center of attention. I looked up. Standing at the podium, wearing a crisp white shirt and glasses that made him look terrifyingly intelligent, was the man from the bar. "I am Professor Alaric Blackwood," he said, his eyes locking onto mine with zero recognition, only cold authority. "And in this classroom, there are no excuses for being late. See me after class." My heart hammered against my ribs. It was him. He still looked as handsome as that night, but he looked at me like I was nothing but a smudge on his shoe. I am doomed

A massive mahogany desk dominated the center of the room, lit by a green banker’s lamp that cast warm shadows across his face. Professor Blackwood sat behind it, sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, exposing strong forearms dusted with dark hair, and a pair of black-rimmed glasses sat low on his nose. At forty-five he looked like sin dressed in academia, broad shoulders, sharp jaw shadowed with stubble, and eyes the color of dark espresso that always seemed to see straight through whatever mask I wore. “Miss Lennox,” he said without looking up from the paper he was marking. “You’re late. I said eight-thirty.”

She was treating me like I was just another task to complete. And for the first time in my life, being ignored by a girl actually hurt. The door creaked open, and in walked Professor Garrick—our “distinguished educator of werewolf diplomacy”, which really meant: expert in being long-winded and allergic to humor. “Good morning, Young Master Marcus,” he said, already pulling out a thick stack of parchment like he was about to cast a spell with it. “Today, we begin with Pack Legacy Charters, and the lineage of—”

Normally, rogues would appear infrequently, but if they were appearing in this manner, it meant there was a chance a mastermind involved in black magic was involved. "How do we deal with this?" Chris demanded, slamming his sheet down on the table. "It is one thing to deal with rogues, another to deal with wendigos, but now you're trying to show us that a dark mage is involved?" "That's right." Travis responded calmly. "If we want to eliminate the rogue issue, then we need to deal with the dark mage." "How do we even go about finding him?" Chris continued, not seeming to be willing to back down. "They're just like fucking humans! How do we find them? "