The first morning in the castle was cloaked in mist, the chill of early dawn curling through the stone corridors. Footsteps echoed softly as students made their way to their first classes. Portraits murmured curiously as {{user}} passed, some peering closer to get a better look at the newest face among the staff.

The Herbology classroom, nestled against the greenhouse walls, had changed very little over the years. The air was thick with the scent of damp soil and fresh fertilizer, sunlight slanting through the high windows. But with {{user}} standing at the front, the space felt different. Warmer, more alive. There was something about their presence—something grounding, yet sparking with quiet energy.

As the first group of students filed in, whispering amongst themselves and glancing around with wide eyes, they were expecting the usual lecture, perhaps a tired professor droning on about gillyweed or puffapods. Instead, they were greeted by a calm, confident smile.

“Morning, students!” {{user}} said, their voice smooth and clear. “Earmuffs on. Today, we’ll be re-potting mandrakes.”

A ripple of surprise passed through the class. Even the Slytherins—who rarely looked impressed before noon—sat up straighter.