Werewolf Professor Harry Potter Novels & Stories

"We've missed you." Professor smiled wearily, his gaze filled with a combination of sadness and determination. "I apologize for my absence," he said. "I had to venture into the depths of the supernatural realm to gather crucial information. The darkness we face is far more insidious than we imagined." As he spoke, the other wolves gathered around, their expressions a mix of curiosity and relief. Professor's return brought a renewed sense of hope, a glimmer of reassurance that we were not alone in this fight.

Shuddering, I watched as he turned around to face us. “I’m Professor Stefan, your Tactics 101 teacher for this year,” he loudly announced to us as he walked from one side of the classroom to the other. “I have been tasked with turning you pups into the best werewolves and leaders you can be.” He stopped suddenly and looked directly at Rowan and me. “I didn't agree to teach you, nasty creatures. But yet here I am forced to do it. I beg of you, don't give me a reason to show you my bad side because I won't hesitate to take you out.”

Harold plopped into the empty seat next to him and squeezed his face towel in his sweaty palms as Professor Travis walked back to the board to continue teaching. It was almost like he was sending out a message; a secret message, to Harold—about the contest. But the more Harold thought of its feasibility, the more doubtful he was that Prof. Travis meant any other thing than he'd said. ≈≈≈ “Today's class, students, will change the perspective from which you all view life as a werewolf. Forever,” Prof. Travis said, looking at Harold with the corner of his eyes. He paced back and forth like the wipers of a windshield on a rainy day before continuing.

It's an infusion of herbs that I know are beneficial to werewolves and I am tempted to ask him why he cares but I don't. “If you are sick, you can take a day off. I can help you apply for permission," he says and I shake my head. ‘I am sure he's pretending to be sick so as to gain the professor's sympathy.” ‘He’s a playboy and we all know it.’ ‘He took the hottest guy in our year and now he wants the professor too?’ ‘Hypocrite!’ Those and more jabs move around the classroom and I can hear them because… I am a werewolf and we have super hearing.

The lady said coldly. Leia scoffed loudly but said nothing. I admired this lady all of a sudden. Whoever she was. "My name is Professor Sylvia, and I am going to be lecturing you on the Art of Mating and bonding between Werewolves." "I wonder who is unlucky enough to be mated to you," Leia said and the half of the class gasped. "Well, thank you for asking, Ms. Craven, My Mate was unlucky enough to lose his life when your father killed him due to his incompetence in running a company," Professor Sylvia said with a cold smirk.

I enter into it and silently close the door. Did he see me?! I almost blurt out my thoughts. My heart is thumping so hard at that rush I didn't expect. I walk further into the laboratory, trying to find the switch for the lights. The laboratory is so dark that I even bump on one of its long tables. My eyes are bad in the dark, very ironic considering I am a werewolf. But, that is just one of the weaknesses I have whenever I am in my human form. I just continue walking when my nose picks something familiar, yet strange.

The class started. Professor Hale explained with clear confidence, moving from one topic to another without slowing down. Unlike most professors who liked to flatter powerful families, he treated everyone the same. I liked that. I listened carefully, writing down every important point. “Let’s see who is actually paying attention.” he said suddenly as he turned around and looked at the class. Professor Hale folded his arms. “Can someone explain the difference between wolfsbane poisoning and silver contamination in werewolf patients? Specifically, how both affect healing abilities and blood circulation.”

“My Alchemy professor confirmed it.” She leans back slightly, still holding my hand as if it might change again before her eyes. “Hmm… I’ve never heard of a werewolf High Healer. That’s usually—other races.” “Is that so?” My voice dips in curiosity, though a small pit of unease forms in my stomach. “Yes,” she says firmly, her tone sharp, thoughtful. “Oh well.” I shrug, forcing casualness even though I feel the weight of her words. “You can’t tell anyone, though. Professor Sloane wants me to keep this quiet.”

Jules agreed. “Jules!” Someone called from the stables, and Harry and Jules crossed to meet them. It wasn’t someone that Harry knew, an older man, and a human, Harry realized as they drew close. “Would you have a look at you!” The man stared at Jules. “You look as if you’ve lost twenty years. Is that a werewolf thing?” “A vampire thing,” Harry replied when they saw that Jules was lost and struggling. They smiled their most charming smile and extended their hand. “I’m Harry, Jules’ partner.”

“Yes, a real one. Hard to find. Even harder to catch. But I did it. And with her help, the potions were child’s play.” Witches were legend. We knew they existed, sure, but they lived far away—on a cursed island no one could approach. Many had tried. Few returned. Most drowned. For him to have one… “Her name’s Adora,” he added casually. “She crafted the potion that keeps your wolf suppressed… and the one that conceals the rot festering inside me.” My breath caught. “Rot?” His grin widened, sharp as broken glass. “Tampering with forces beyond your comprehension has consequences, Professor. And this… this is mine.”