Luan's Memory

Hermione was deeply skeptical of Luan's memory.

Out of caution, as soon as she entered the Common Room, Hermione pulled out the copy of Wandmaking and Maintenance she had just borrowed.

There were still many students gathered in the Common Room at this hour. Without their parents keeping them in check, everyone stayed up late.

Harry and Ron were playing Wizard Chess again, while Neville seemed to be looking for something again.

Hermione found an empty seat and sat down, then opened the book in her hands and casually flipped through the first few pages.

"What is ash wood most taboo for in a wand?" Hermione pointed at the text in the book and stared at Luan with suspicious eyes.

"It cannot be given away or used by someone else, or it will lose its magic." Luan sat casually across from Hermione and answered without hesitation.

"What should one be careful of when using a black walnut wand?" Hermione flipped another two pages.

"Because black walnut cannot regulate its own internal issues, its owner must be honest with their own heart."

Luan answered again, then looked at the little girl across from him in confusion.

"But didn't you just read all this too, Hermione?"

Hermione did not answer Luan's question. Instead, she flipped another five pages.

"What kind of user is Veela Hair as a Wand Core best suited for?"

"It chooses people who are sensitive and willful, with particular emphasis on appearance."

Hermione's finger remained on the answer in the book. When Luan finished speaking, she seemed to have confirmed something and snapped the book shut.

Bang!

"I'll answer your question now. I did read this book too, but I don't have a memory like yours that people would envy."

After saying that, Hermione stood and left the Common Room. Though Luan did not understand, he could tell that the little witch seemed somewhat aggrieved.

"Are you okay, Luan?" Harry came over after hearing the commotion.

"Probably. Okay." Luan answered uncertainly.

"Just leave her alone. Nobody knows why she acts like that, right?"

Ron chimed in indifferently, holding a Wizard Chess piece in his hand.

"Come on, Harry. Help me finish this game."

Harry and Ron continued their chess match, while Luan sat beside them and read.

Wednesday arrived under gloomy skies.

Luan got up early that day. Ever since learning that studying magic required mastering a great deal of knowledge, he had returned to the schedule he kept when he lived beneath the bridge.

That gave him at least three extra hours every day to read, not counting the evenings when he had no homework.

If all that was included, he had at least five more hours than everyone else.

All of it was time he could use freely.

That morning, Luan was reading Modern Magical Phonetics Table. He had to master those tongue-twisting magical syllables as soon as possible so he could keep up with the professors' lessons.

By the time he finished the third chapter, his roommates had gradually emerged from the dormitory as well.

After washing up, they went to the Great Hall together for breakfast, with Luan leading the way.

"That's so cool, Luan. I think you could totally become an Adventure Guide."

After taking a shortcut down the stairs, Seamus could not help praising him. According to Seamus himself, his father worked at a Muggle travel agency.

"I think you could manage the Floo Network in the future too. My dad says that department needs people with incredibly strong memories."

After hearing Ron and Seamus, Luan thought both jobs sounded good. Of course, if he had to choose, he would definitely choose adventure first.

It was not only because, as Seamus said, the job paid better. More importantly, exploring would let him understand the world better.

The sky above the Great Hall was just as overcast as the weather outside, filled with low-hanging dark clouds. Still, it did not affect Luan and the others' appetite.

They had Defense Against the Dark Arts today. Luan clearly remembered that at the welcome feast, this young professor had been the only one with two Wizard Bars.

Though one of those Wizard Bars had been so faint it was nearly impossible to see, it was still enough to prove that this professor was more unusual than the others.

Luan had guessed correctly. Professor Quirrell was indeed very unusual.

The moment he appeared, he filled the entire classroom with a heavy smell of garlic.

Wanting to witness the professor's style up close, Luan had deliberately chosen a seat in the front row. Now, he regretted it intensely.

"Professor, why does your turban smell so strong?" Seamus, who was sitting beside Luan, was the first to ask.

"This? Oh, it was a gift from an Af-African prince I helped with a Revenant Zombie."

Professor Quirrell was actually a stutterer, which Luan had not expected.

"A Revenant Zombie! Really? How did you defeat it?" Seamus asked eagerly, and everyone nearby turned to look curiously.

"Well... well, the weather is quite nice today."

"Professor, it's cloudy today."

Seeing that Quirrell did not want to answer, Seamus pursed his lips and looked at him in disappointment.

"Oh, is it? Then perfect. Let's begin the lesson."

Luan could finally clear History of Magic's name. Defense Against the Dark Arts had risen to become the most boring class.

Professor Binns's lectures could make people drowsy too, but he would occasionally mention related events involving historical figures, knowledge that was not in the textbooks.

Quirrell, on the other hand, merely read Dark Arts: A Defensive Guide word for word.

Not only did the students who listened attentively dislike the class, even those who liked to sleep during lessons disliked it.

The thick garlic smell would not even let them sleep peacefully.

When the dismissal bell rang, everyone rushed out of the classroom. They all hoped to get a breath of life-saving fresh air as quickly as possible.

"I think George was right. His turban must be stuffed full of garlic." Ron leaned over the corridor railing and took several deep breaths before speaking.

"No, his turban was definitely soaked in garlic liquid."

Having grown garlic at York Farm, Luan knew that unpeeled garlic did not smell that strongly. Even if the skin was completely removed, it would not smell as strong as Quirrell's turban unless the garlic had been crushed.

"Well, that smell has completely ruined my appetite."

"Ron, I think you're definitely going to regret that," Harry said.

"Why?"

"Because there are New Zealand lamb chops today."

"Really? Then I'm eating ten!"

Ron immediately ran toward the Great Hall. Harry and Luan exchanged a glance, then hurried after him.

Only then did Hermione walk out of the classroom. She looked at Harry and Luan disappearing into the distance, took several deep breaths, and slowly headed toward the Great Hall with several thick books in her arms.

There was another Herbology class in the afternoon. This time, Professor Sprout did all the work herself.

She was using magic to rapidly dry the fresh roots of a Daffodil, turning them into usable finished herbs.

"All right, this is about right."

Professor Sprout picked up a Daffodil root that had just been roasted over a Fire-type spell.

"Normally, it is best to dry it in the sun for seven full days. This time, I'm only showing you the finished product. Everyone may take one and examine it closely."

This class was only observation, so it was very easy for Luan.

After Professor Sprout had made her way around and guided every student, Luan raised his hand and asked the question that had been troubling him.

"Professor, do the trees used in Wand Making count as magical plants? If they do, how should we tell them apart?"

At Luan's question, Professor Sprout showed a surprised expression, but Hermione's reaction was even greater.