Hogwarts: Please, Just Graduate Already!

As Professor Flitwick had said, Lumos was a very basic spell.

Once they knew the incantation and wand movement, along with a few tips from Flitwick, the young wizards quickly got the hang of it.

Starlight dotted the classroom, flickering on and off. To make the light more visible, the professor had thoughtfully drawn the curtains.

A bright orb appeared at the tip of Wayne's wand, neither too bright nor too dim, its glow steady.

It was nothing like the other young wizards' flickering lights.

"Very good, Mr. Lawrence. Two points to Hufflepuff." Professor Flitwick walked over and offered his praise.

He did not seem particularly excited.

After all, Lumos was too simple. Anyone could master it with a little practice. Flitwick had only awarded Wayne two points as encouragement because his light was large, round, and long-lasting. Hermione shot him a sidelong glance, lifted her chin, and gave a disdainful snort before casting the spell herself.

The tip of her wand lit up, though her light was not as large as Wayne's. It was also far too bright, almost dazzling.

When the little witch tried to lower its brightness, her lack of control over her magic caused the spell to dissipate at once. "Pfft."

Wayne found it funny and accidentally laughed out loud.

"What are you laughing at? You're only a little more practiced than me." Hermione huffed and cast Lumos again.

This time, the result was even worse. Her wand flashed once, then showed no further response. "You need to stay calm to maintain a steady output," Wayne advised. "So, Miss Granger, could you tell me how I upset you again?"

Hermione said sourly, "Why do you care? Go find your Ravenclaw upperclasswoman."

???

Wayne's head filled with question marks.

First of all, he had only exchanged a few words with Cho. The fact that Hermione had seen it was already ridiculous enough.

Second... Little witch, what was with that tone? There was nothing between them yet.

"It's not..." Hermione also realized there was something wrong with her tone and hurriedly explained, "The first time we met, you were already trying to scam me out of money, but toward that Ravenclaw, you..."

"What are you saying? What are you saying?" Wayne glanced around. Seeing that Professor Flitwick had already moved farther away, he felt much more at ease.

"Was I scamming you out of money? I was doing a good deed."

"Knowledge is priceless. You only spent two Sickles and got to read books for an entire week. Tell me, wasn't that a bargain?"

"It was quite a bargain." Hermione nodded instinctively, though she still felt that something was off.

"Exactly. It was because I saw how much you loved studying that I painfully decided to lend you those books."

"I guarantee that if Cho had asked to borrow my books, I would never have lent them to her."

After another round of smooth talking, Hermione unconsciously smiled. She did not notice at all that Wayne had already started calling Cho by name.

Throughout the entire double period, the young wizards practiced magic. Toby approached Wayne with a troubled look.

"Wayne, is there any way to keep the light steady? Mine's like a police car's siren. It's about to blind me."

"How should I put this..." Wayne pondered for two seconds. "Imagine that you aren't holding a wand, but a torch. Hold firmly to that thought."

Toby seemed to understand and returned to his seat. "What did Wayne say?" Norman asked.

The two of them had the same problem: their lights kept flashing. One looked like a police car, the other like an ambulance.

"Wayne said to imagine that you're holding a torch instead of a wand. Focus your attention."

"I'll give it a try." Norman nodded, raising his wand high with great gusto as he shouted, "Lumos!" Boom!

Light appeared, but it was firelight.

A serpentine jet of flame burst forth, startling Professor Flitwick. He hastily summoned a stream of water to extinguish it.

What a talent.

Wayne was utterly amazed. His roommate was truly no ordinary fellow. He had recited Lumos but somehow cast a Fire-Making Spell.

In a fight, he would definitely be a master at catching people off guard.

"Mr. Sherlock, Mr. Lawrence's method is correct, but don't get so excited. You're supposed to be holding a torch, not throwing one."

Professor Flitwick explained shakily. He had been badly frightened just now, though fortunately Norman's wand had been pointed upward.

If it had been aimed at someone, Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing would be complaining to him again. After offering a few more reminders, Professor Flitwick resumed patrolling the classroom and helping the young wizards master the spell.

He had thought Norman was already outrageous enough, but who could have imagined that the real trouble was yet to come?

"Mr. Finnegan, loosen your grip a little. You're about to snap your wand."

"When you chant the spell, there should be pauses. Lumos~ Maximum. Remember that rhythm."

No wonder Professor Flitwick had won Hogwarts' Most Popular Professor award for sixteen consecutive years.

He was patient, mild-tempered, and gave his students plenty of chances to practice. Of course everyone liked him.

Seamus, who had been nervous just moments ago, relaxed considerably under Flitwick's reassurance. He confidently lifted his chin, and the wand in his hand seemed to become a conductor's baton, tracing an elegant arc through the air.

His desk mate Neville watched expectantly, while Flitwick gave him an encouraging look. "Seamus..."

Wayne frowned, a terrible feeling rising in his heart. Wasn't this that Detonation Genius?

Norman and Toby sat only one table between Wayne and Hermione and Seamus and Neville. As Seamus began chanting, Wayne's uneasy feeling grew stronger and stronger. "Lumos~~ Maximum!"

"Get down!"

Without a second thought, Wayne grabbed Hermione. The little witch lost her balance and fell into his arms. Almost at the same time—Boom!

A tremendous roar rang in everyone's ears as a fierce explosion engulfed the Charms classroom.

More than a dozen little witches screamed at the top of their lungs, nearly piercing everyone's eardrums.

At the center of the explosion, Seamus and Neville had soot-blackened faces and explosive hair. Professor Flitwick, being short, had escaped disaster by sheer luck.

However, because he had been closest to the explosion, his ears had also gone temporarily deaf. "Burp!"

Seamus let out a loud burp and blew two rings of smoke, his eyes shining brightly as though he had no awareness of his condition.

"Professor, did you see that?! It lit up just now!"

"What did you say?!" Professor Flitwick shouted.

"I said! It! Lit! Up!"

Flitwick staggered and nearly fell over. "Well said. Don't say it again next time!"

Disappointing Defense Against the Dark Arts Class

"Are you all right?"

Wayne helped the still-shaken Hermione to her feet and asked with concern.

"I-I'm fine." Hermione shook her head, looking at Seamus with fear in her eyes.

Magic was far too dangerous! No, that was not right.

Magic was not dangerous. Seamus was.

She had practiced so many spells at home and had never encountered an accident like this. At most, a spell had failed without producing any effect.

Hermione said solemnly, "From now on, let's stay farther away from Seamus. I don't want to be carried into the Hospital Wing."

Wayne smiled and nodded. He saw that Professor Flitwick had already arranged for Seamus and Neville to practice in a corner of the classroom, clearly afraid that they might accidentally injure someone else.

Fortunately, Seamus was still only a young wizard, and his magic was nowhere near powerful. The effect just now had looked frightening, but it had not done much actual damage. Everyone had merely been startled and quickly recovered.

After class, Hermione had already forgotten that she had been angry with Wayne. She eagerly invited him to go to the Hogwarts Library and do homework together.

Wayne had no objections. The two made their way to the Hogwarts Library, and the moment they entered, they immediately fell silent.

The librarian, Madam Pince, was a bad-tempered woman who cherished books to an extreme degree and hated noisy students.

Whenever someone angered her, she would wave a feather duster and chase them out. Wayne thought she was most likely a Squib as well. The reason she treasured books so much was probably because the knowledge they contained was the treasure she longed for but could never obtain.

Hermione took out her Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook and began writing her essay, while Wayne chose a copy of Zinnus's Duel Handbook to read.

Zinnus had been the most famous dueling master of the early last century. He had once achieved a record of thirty-eight consecutive undefeated duels and occupied the headlines for an entire week.

The most remarkable thing was that the dueling master had not mastered any advanced magic. He had achieved such success using only simple spells.

The book also recorded several of his battles. After reading them, Wayne truly picked up some useful tricks.

Hogwarts was a massive treasure laid out before everyone. But not everyone had the ability or energy to claim it.

Setting aside anything else, the heads of the four houses all possessed genuine skill. Receiving their guidance would be endlessly beneficial.

Even if you went to Snape with questions, at worst his tongue would be sharp. He would still answer them.

The Hogwarts Library was another treasure trove. It contained the foundation accumulated by the castle over a thousand years. Students had seven years to improve themselves, but how many truly did so?

That was why Hogwarts was so remarkable. It offered joyful education suited to everyone, while also providing elite education for the ambitious. Whether you became a dragon or a worm depended on a single thought.

What dissatisfied Wayne was that the Restricted Section was simply too large. It occupied a full third of the Hogwarts Library.

It had not been that large at first. It had gradually expanded into its current state after Dumbledore's incident with Voldemort.

Even magic like the Patronus Charm had been placed in the Restricted Section. Old Dumbledore, I can buy this spell at Flourish and Blotts!

The new term soon settled into its routine, and the first-years gradually adapted to life at school.

For the vast majority of classes, everyone was fairly satisfied. The young wizards' favorite was undoubtedly Charms class.

The professor was easygoing, and lessons gave them plenty of time to wave their wands and cast magic. Transfiguration was not bad either, but Professor McGonagall was simply too strict. The young wizards were all on edge, terrified of losing points for their houses.

Besides, Transfiguration was truly difficult. After two Transfiguration classes, many students' hands were nearly numb from waving, yet they had made no progress at all.

A matchstick was still a matchstick. There was not even a shadow of a needle.

A Ravenclaw student tried to be clever and brought a needle to class, successfully costing their house ten points.

Quite a few people claimed that they now saw silver needles in anything long and thin. They were surely getting styes.

Aside from that, Hufflepuff's Little Badgers also loved their head of house's class. During the first week, their task was to repot Ginger Root, an ingredient used in magical potions that could be used to make Scabbers' Potion, Draught of Living Death, and more.

When Professor Sprout told them that this stuff sold for five Galleons per root in Diagon Alley, Wayne and the other young wizards from Muggle families were stunned.

"Don't be so surprised, children." Sprout smiled as she explained. "This ginger really is the ginger you know, but the growth potion and fertilizer used during cultivation are very expensive."

"That's why it sells for so much."

"What fertilizer?" Wayne asked curiously.

"Mooncalf dung." Professor Sprout took out a box filled with silver pellets.

"Mooncalf dung is highly fertile and can also enhance a potion's effects, but only fresh dung that has been properly processed can be used."

Wayne nodded and made a note of it.

The books he read focused more on potion brewing and ingredient selection. He really had not looked into the cultivation and care of such basic ingredients.

He felt somewhat ashamed. Herbology was taught by his own head of house, yet he had been so inattentive to it.

He needed to hurry back and read a few more Herbology books to make up for it. As for the remaining classes, the young wizards were not particularly interested.

Take Astronomy, for example. They had to climb up the tower after ten o'clock on Wednesday nights and hold telescopes to look at the stars.

It sounded romantic, but it was too late. Many young wizards were already yawning with sleepiness.

They also had to write a ten-inch astronomy observation report afterward. It was simply torture.

History of Magic was even worse. Every sentence Professor Binns spoke was like an incantation for a Hypnotic Charm. Other than Hermione, no one could resist it.

The stories about how early wizards had been worshipped as gods were clearly interesting. People could get through them just fine when reading on their own.

But coming from Professor Binns's mouth, they became dry, boring words. Everyone had already started treating History of Magic as the perfect place to catch up on sleep, because Professor Binns never interfered with students. As long as you did not jump up and cause trouble, you could do whatever you wanted.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was also deeply disappointing. Quirrell stuttered when he spoke, so how could he possibly teach a class well? There were even rumors that Quirrell had been reduced to tears by a young wizard's question.

Most people did not take it seriously, but as the story spread farther and wider, it became increasingly detailed. People even knew the young wizard's name clearly.

At that point, they had no choice but to believe it.

The name Wayne Lawrence once again entered everyone's sight.

Wayne: Harry, Don't Look Snape in the Eye

Friday morning.

The Hufflepuff first-years finally welcomed their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class. The classroom was located in a corner of the third floor. When the first young wizard arrived, he repeatedly confirmed that he had not come to the wrong place before hesitantly walking inside.

The classroom was extremely dark. Its only small window was tightly shut, and an indescribable strange smell filled the room.