Five minutes later, the Dean of Gryffindor's office.
Professor McGonagall looked down, flipping through the lesson plan Thorne had submitted, her gaze sweeping back and forth across the pages.
It was a complete teaching plan from the first year to the seventh, with a clear structure, rigorous logic, and even the course objectives and phase-specific focuses clearly marked.
"You..."
She looked up, her tone carrying obvious surprise, "Have you worked in education before?"
"No."
Thorne answered honestly.
"It's just that back at the Sanctum, some research required looking up records, and I often visited a local Teacher Archives. Over time, after seeing so much, I happened to pick up a bit."
As he spoke, his gaze unconsciously fell upon Professor McGonagall's face.
The proboscis of that "Ms. Mosquito" had clearly extended a bit further than before.
Judging from Thorne's past experience, this usually meant satisfaction.
He had once exchanged map-making insights with a Mosquito Cartographer; whenever the other party got excited listening, the same change would occur.
"Good, good."
Professor McGonagall nodded and closed the lesson plan, "It seems that in terms of teaching methods, you won't need any additional training. However—"
She changed her tone.
"I believe the existing practical application parts can be entirely removed, keeping only the conceptual explanations."
Thorne's eyes widened instantly.
"No, Professor, that won't do!"
His tone suddenly became a bit more urgent.
"Currently, Soul Magic is included in neither the O.W.L.s nor the N.E.W.T.s. The importance of concepts in this course is roughly equivalent to the Mongolian Navy."
Professor McGonagall placed the lesson plan back on the desk. The wings behind her vibrated slightly, and her proboscis retracted accordingly.
"But as the subject develops, it's highly likely this course will be included in the examination system in the future."
She said calmly, then looked up at Thorne.
"Furthermore, can you explain this? In your lesson plan, the very first practical lesson says—"
She flipped to the corresponding page and read softly:
"'Learn to obtain souls.'"
"Are you planning to have the students... stab each other?"
The corner of Thorne's mouth twitched violently.
Clearly, his overly crude display of ability during the interview had left Professor McGonagall with a rather unhealthy impression.
"Uh, of course not!"
Thorne immediately explained, "I won't turn the classroom into a knife fight, nor will I have students self-harm."
He cleared his throat.
"It's just to let them try obtaining souls from ordinary bugs."
Hearing this, Professor McGonagall's slender proboscis slowly extended once more.
"Oh?"
Her tone rose slightly, "In other words, by using a knife to harm other creatures, one can obtain a soul?"
"It's possible, but—uh, where are you going?"
Before Thorne could finish his question, Professor McGonagall raised a hand to signal him to wait, then turned and quickly left the office.
In less than a minute, she returned, carrying a small wicker basket.
Thorne looked up, and his brow jumped.
Inside the basket, a large swarm of Pheromone Caterpillars was wriggling densely; he had seen them before near Hagrid's hut.
"Professor, this is...?"
"Give a demonstration first."
Professor McGonagall's tone was calm as she placed the basket on the table.
"A demonstration on how to extract a soul. As the Vice-Principal, I need to confirm whether this process will cause harm to the students."
As she spoke, she naturally handed Thorne a small dissecting knife.
Then, she stared at him without blinking.
The anticipation was almost written on her face.
The wings behind her vibrated gently from time to time, and her proboscis extended to its maximum length, clearly full of interest in what was about to happen.
Honestly, Thorne had previously thought Professor McGonagall was a serious lady, but it seemed all human pretenses were stripped away in her bug state.
Thorne shrugged, preparing to act.
But when his gaze actually fell on that basket of soft, constantly wriggling caterpillars, he couldn't help but pause.
How should he put it...
In this world full of bugs, having to personally kill a real bug now actually gave him a strange psychological burden, almost as if he were committing murder.
Even though back in the Holy Nest, the number of bugs he had killed was probably enough to stuff the entire Hogwarts Castle from top to bottom several times over.
Thorne shook his head, tossing those strange emotions out of his mind.
The next moment.
Hand rose, knife fell.
The movement was crisp and neat, almost identical to when he had self-harmed before.
The moment the blade sliced through the caterpillar, wisps of white light seeped from the wound, dispersing like mist before being pulled by some invisible force and quickly merging into Thorne's body.
The whole process was brief and quiet.
Watching this scene, Professor McGonagall's eyes instantly lit up.
"Hmm..."
She nodded thoughtfully, "It seems there really is a way to let them start trying to obtain souls without harming the students."
Her tone shifted.
"However—"
She picked up a quill and unhesitatingly crossed out a line on Thorne's lesson plan.
"Regarding having upper-year students participate in Soul Extraction activities, that is definitely not permitted."
"Ah?"
"Professor McGonagall, that is the most efficient known method for utilizing the substance of souls! By injecting another's soul into one's body, one can gain a vast amount of their knowledge, and—"
Thorne tried to argue his case, but unfortunately, his protest was ineffective.
"Professor Thorne."
Professor McGonagall interrupted him directly.
"Firstly, I believe the situation you've described is itself almost impossible to achieve."
"Secondly, even if it could be done, from what you're saying, this is already very close to the realm of the Dark Arts."
She gently placed the quill back on the desk.
"At Hogwarts, this is behavior that absolutely cannot be permitted."
"Instead of obsessing over such dangerous ideas, you would do better to focus your attention on more realistic and concrete issues."
Thorne could only sullenly drop that dangerous thought.
Honestly, he had never actually tried that path.
That leader of the Sanctum known as the "Soul Master" was the one who had eventually gone completely mad because of such experiments.
But it was undeniable that the man had also gained power far beyond common sense as a result.
When Thorne had dealt with him back then, it had truly taken quite some effort.
It was also during the process of studying the other's spellcasting methods that he had learned an extremely important spell.
So Thorne had always been thinking about whether he could adopt this highly efficient method.
Only now it seemed that at Hogwarts, this path was clearly a dead end.
"Hmm..."
Thorne pondered for a moment, then asked instead.
"Then the current problem is what to teach the upper years, right?"
"After all, simple soul acquisition and using souls to repair the body probably won't fill an entire semester's worth of class time."
Professor McGonagall seemed to be thinking as well.
Her gaze fell on the surviving Pheromone Caterpillars in the basket, her tone casual:
"I remember Albus mentioned before that you seem to be able to combine magic with singing? That would also be a supplement to Hogwarts' Aesthetic Education."
Thorne was taken aback, then his eyes lit up.
"Oh... right."
He wore a thoughtful expression, "In that case, I can make their singing sound utterly desperate; that scene would surely be beautiful."
He paused, then added another sentence:
"Hogwarts Castle... should be fairly sturdy, right?"
McGonagall clearly didn't catch the hidden implication and replied casually:
"It's alright; it was built with magic by the founders, and the fact that it's still standing after a thousand years says a lot—"
Before she could finish, she suddenly frowned.
"However... Professor Thorne, if every soul acquisition requires killing, I'm afraid that even if we use up all of Hagrid's stock, it wouldn't last the whole semester."
She paused, her tone gradually becoming serious.
"And the subsequent breeding would itself be a significant expense."
At this point, McGonagall suddenly looked up.
That sharp, slender proboscis was almost shoved into Thorne's face.
"So, regarding the storage of souls, is there any other way besides the human body?"
Thorne carefully tilted his head, dodging the sharp proboscis that almost turned him into a Kennedy.
He blinked, hesitated for a moment, then nodded:
"There is."
"Through a special kind of sculpture called a soul totem."
"It can store souls within it, and one only needs to strike it to release the souls for use."
As soon as he finished speaking, Thorne noticed.
For some reason, at the mention of "sculptures," the wings behind McGonagall began to vibrate frequently, making an annoying buzzing sound.
Was she excited?
This Professor feels a bit strange...
"Oh..."
McGonagall was thoughtful, "Is that so?"
The next second, her tone suddenly became exceptionally proactive.
"Then we at Hogwarts have to get some."
"Uh—"
Thorne felt confused, sensing that she seemed to be treating this thing as some kind of fun toy.
He immediately added:
"However, those things were created by an ancient civilization; I don't possess the technology to make them."
"But you've seen them, right?"
McGonagall pressed on.
"Can you draw them?"
Thorne was stunned.
"...Ah?"
---
Fifteen minutes later.
Headmasters Office. Dumbledore picked up a drink that looked very much like a teeth strengthening potion and took a sip, then stuffed a piece of Toffee into his mouth.
He examined the patterns on the parchment in front of him for a long time.
Only then did he shift his gaze from the pile of design sketches to McGonagall and Thorne sitting opposite him.
"So," he said calmly, "you want to provide infrastructure in advance for the teaching of Soul Magic?"
"Though in my view, this still seems to be a proposal at the conceptual stage."
McGonagall nodded slightly.
"Yes, Albus, which is why we need to invest funding and technology into R&D."
Her tone gradually took on a hint of excitement.
"Think about it, if our Stone Sentinels all had soul substances stored inside them, how fun—cough, how much of a deterrent they would be."