Professor Black Hogwarts Legacy Novels & Stories

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.

“I met with Professor Anderson Pym to discuss my study plans. He was the only professor who responded to dozens of emails I sent to several different professors. How about you? Who is your mentor?” “Wait, you emailed them? Didn't they email you?” Scott chuckled dryly as he chewed his crunchy pie crust. “Never in history has a professor emailed a student to offer to be their mentor. They are super busy. They never even memorize the names and faces of each student.” "But I think the professors will email us after seeing the study plan we submitted on the campus website. I got an email from Professor Simmon Kendrick about two months ago.” “Who? Professor Kendrick? Are you kidding me?”

Callum’s voice, low and deceptively casual, threaded into the group’s idle conversation. “—No, I’m telling you, I heard it from one of the upper form Prefects. Professor Madeline had a meeting with Atlas Blackwood two days after the Pre-Ball. They were talking about some girl—someone with the wrong name on her records. Something about a… false legacy.” He let the words hang in the air like smoke. A few students muttered in interest. One snorted, dismissive. Another leaned in. I watched Ingrid. Her fingers didn’t tremble. But they stilled. The way a predator stills—not in fear, but in attention. Her glass stopped mid-tilt, the light catching its rim like a blade unsheathed just beneath the su

A hint of amusement laced his voice. "She was talking about some thesis, but I guess it was an excuse," Professor McClone teased. Sebastian's mind racing, he smiled. "Don't think too much, John. We were working on the Ashwood Heritage research. She wasn't lying," Sebastian clarified. Professor McClonechuckled. "I didn't ask for an explanation, Seb. Just meet her when you come back," Professor McClone said. With a final smile, Professor McClone hung up the call.

“You had one last chance to redeem yourself. You just needed to bloody graduate, Imogen. That man is gone, he never really loved you. He just wanted to get into your pants, and you let him!” “Whoring yourself around, is that the only professor you slept with? Which other professor did you give yourself to?” my father asks, his voice low and menacing as he takes off his belt. “None... it's just him, I swear,” I choke out, my voice barely a whisper, my eyes wide with terror.

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.

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.

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 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.”