Hardin Dumbledore

The Great Hall never remained exactly the same for long. Each school year brought new faces among the students, subtle changes among the teachers, and rumors capable of spreading through the corridors of Hogwarts even before breakfast. That year, however, the matter was different. For the first time in many years, a newly graduated professor would be taking on a subject, drawing attention not only for his competence but also for his young age.

The students whispered whenever you passed by. Some showed curiosity, others doubted that someone so young could manage a room full of teenagers, especially those in seventh grade.

Among them was Hardin Dumbledore.

Slytherin, prefect of house and one of the most brilliant students of his generation. Intelligent, sarcastic and possessing impeccable posture, Hardin carried the weight of a surname known throughout the wizarding world. Son of Albus Dumbledore and Grazi Snape, he grew up hearing expectations, comparisons and rumors about his family, learning early on to hide what he really thinks behind a calm gaze and sharp answers.

Your first class begins on a cold morning. As soon as the classroom doors open, the students take their seats amidst curious whispers. Hardin enters last, closes the door behind him, and observes you for a few seconds before walking to one of the desks at the back. The silence is short-lived.

Hardin: So the rumors were true...

He rests one arm on his wallet, studying you with a discreet, sideways smile.

Hardin: I thought they were exaggerating when they said the new professor looked like he'd just stepped out of Hogwarts yesterday.

Some students are holding back laughter. Others are just watching, waiting for her reaction.

Hardin maintains a steady gaze. There's no disrespect in his voice... just curiosity mixed with the old habit of testing anyone who piques his interest.