Lincoln's School of Magic - Lost Treasure

Professor Lostin

"Greetings students," Professor Lostin begins. "Welcome to the Dark Arts."

    I am sitting at a table next to Lucia with Daniel and David behind us. Apparently, those two began blossoming their friendship once their rivalry with Adrian was exposed. I can't believe neither of them said anything earlier, like, before I dated him.

    "As you may know," Lostin continues, "the textbooks I am about to give you will not leave this classroom due to... unfortunate circumstances."

    Unfortunate circumstances?

    A dark skinned girl in the back row raises her hand to ask a question. She has long wavy black hair and big brown eyes that are almost popping out of her head.

    "Yes," Lostin signals to her, but then confusion grows on his face, not knowing her name. "You are?"

    "Aditi Doshi," she replies while lowering her hand. "What unfortunate circumstances occurred to have the school take extra precautions around the dark arts?"

    Lostin looks down to think.

    "I was instructed not to say," he answers cautiously, "I don't want to worry you."

    "Well that's worrying," Lucia mutters.

    Lostin must have heard her because he continues.

    "I understand how a children's mind wonders, but knowing what I know may be... catastrophic."

    Catastropic? Surely it can't be that bad.

    "Now," he finishes, "we will begin."

    "Excuse me professor," Lucia interrupts rudely. "How do you suppose we're supposed to focus, knowing something dangerous is running about?"

    "I don't expect anything from you," Lostin insults calmly. "Based on the filth coming out of your mouth, there can't be much value within."

    That was a bad idea. Lucia doesn't let anyone insult her. He's about to get destroyed.

    "Some professor you are," Lucia insults him back with attitude. "Insulting students based on     intelligence because you're insecure about your academic abilities."

    "Lucia," I whisper while nudging her arm, trying to convince her to stop.

    "Detention miss,"

    "Cumberback," she cuts him off while scrunching her nose and crossing her arms.

    Lucia is really angry. I look over my shoulder to see David, practically biting his nails. Lucia scares him frequently. Her short temper is enough to frighten the Dark Lord himself.

    We barely make it through that class. Lostin and Lucia kept exchanging angry glares throughout that long hour. Thankfully, they stopped insulting. I probably would have walked out of class if that escalated any more.

    "I despise Lostin," Lucia says at our lunch table.

    "He's not bad," I defend him, "you just overreacted."

    Shoot. I shouldn't have said that.

    "Overreacted?" Lucia asks angrily.

    "No," I stutter, trying to redeem myself. "Sorry, I don't know. Perhaps you're right."

    "She is right," David adds. "Lostin worked at the ministry last year, with my dad. I've heard mad things about him."

    "Mad?" I ask, "what kind of mad?"

    David leans into the table, so the four of us, Anna, Ezmerelda, Lucia and I follow.

    "He's anti-muggle-borns," he whispers. "He suggested sending them back to the muggle world, and if they were to decline, they would be killed."

    "That's barbaric!" Lucia whisper shouts.

    "How do you know this?" I ask curiously.

    "My father hates him," David replies. "He talks about him all the time and all his mad ideas."

    We all sit back up straight as a seventh-year student walks by to avoid suspicion. I finally figured out all the tie colours after attending Lincoln for a year.

    White is first year, yellow is second year — obviously. Orange is third, blue is fourth, green is fifth, purple is sixth and finally, black is seventh.

    "I wonder how he became a professor then?" Anna asks.

    "That's true," Ezmerelda adds. "Surely Burnaby wouldn't hire someone knowing they're mad. What if he were to harm muggle-born students?"

    "He sure did a good job pestering pure-bloods today," Lucia rolls her eyes.

    We stay silent for a moment as we continue digging into our lunch.

    "Do any of you know any muggle-born students?" I ask after swallowing my chicken.

    "Many," Ezmerelda answers. "Don't you?"

    "No," I think, "I don't think I do."

    "You serious?" David asks me. "You don't know Omell Grayve?"

    "No?" I ask, wondering who he is.

    "He's only the best wizard in the school."

    "How do you know him?" I ask.

    "Our dorms are next to each other," he answers proudly. "We cross paths every day."

    "And he's a muggle-born?"

    David nods his head after taking a bite off his chicken leg.

    "Peculiar," Lucia mutters.

    "What's peculiar?" I ask her.

    "What makes him so great?"

    "He slained a goblin," David answers.

    "Even I can do that," Lucia scoffs.

    "When he was four," David finishes.

    "How is that even possible?" I ask. "Wouldn't he have lived in the muggle world? How was there a goblin there?"

    "Perhaps he just lost his way," David suggests.

    "Lost his way?" Lucia scoffs. "A goblin lost its way? You must be joking."

    "I haven't exactly talked to him much," David says shamefully while lowering his head. "This is simply what I've heard others say."

    We brush it off and continue eating. What a goblin was doing in the muggle world years ago doesn't exactly tickle my curiosity.

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Published January 12th, 2022