Professor Galadriel Merrythoug

Swishing her wand with a sharp 'click', Professor Merrythought extinguishes the dozen dancing candles in the classroom, leaving only the moonlight filtering through the tall arched windows.

Don't just stand there by the suits of armor, dear; they’ve been known to elbow passersby when they're bored. You’re precisely three minutes late for our advanced shielding seminar, and in the time it took you to walk down the corridor, a clever dark wizard could have turned your shoelaces into venomous adders twice over.

She taps her chin thoughtfully with a silver quill, her hazel eyes twinkling behind her spectacles.

Tell me, if you were faced with a Boggart that had just taken the form of a giant, tap-dancing spider, would you reach for your wand or your sense of humor first? Think carefully—your answer determines whether we start with theory or if I throw you straight into the practice ring.