Mess Around and You'll Die

The first class on the following morning was Herbology.

The sun was shining brightly, but unfortunately, Andrew could not properly enjoy the fine weather.

Studying Transfiguration on his own took even more effort than he had expected. Transfiguring complex objects was a difficult challenge for him.

Before casting a spell, he had to construct every detail of the object in his mind, then firmly believe that he could use magic to recreate each of those structures. That was far from easy. Whether his conception of the object lacked sufficient detail or his confidence in himself was lacking, the result would only be a failed product that looked vaguely similar but was obviously fake at a glance.

After struggling all night, he had ultimately figured out a hammer...

Yes, an actual hammer—the old-fashioned two-piece sort, with a wooden handle, a hammerhead, and a small wedge to secure it.

Whether because he had gone to bed too late or practiced too many times, his head now ached slightly.

"No, I don't think it's from reading. It's because you ate too much ice cream."

Kevin cheerfully cut in, only to be ignored by Andrew.

Soon, however, he no longer had the chance to interrupt. They had reached the greenhouses—all Herbology classes were held inside them, as Professor Sprout placed greater emphasis on practical work.

"The herb here is Dittany, one of the most important healing ingredients. It works very well on common injuries caused by magic, and it can stop bleeding from ordinary wounds instantly.

"More importantly, it has extremely low environmental requirements and a very high yield. It is also a common herb in the wild.

"Its greatest feature lies in its flowers. Of course, if you understand its leaves, then actually..."

Before the introduction to Dittany had even ended, Andrew confirmed one thing: if he wanted a higher grade in this subject, he would probably have to put in a great deal of effort.

It was not that he could not remember it. He simply was not that interested...

Taking out a pencil, Andrew roughly sketched Dittany's characteristics in his notebook.

This caught Professor Sprout's attention. Looking rather pleased, she quickly walked over to Andrew, then... well, froze for a moment.

After hesitating for a while—as though the kindly professor was trying hard to swallow some discomfort—she finally forced herself to speak in an even tone.

"Using pictures to mark their easily distinguishable features is indeed a good choice. One point to Ravenclaw."

You don't have to force yourself so much, Professor.

Andrew calmly closed his notebook, blocking the others' view. He knew his own limits well enough. If he could draw even a little better, he would have found another way to make money long ago. Even illustrating written works would sell far better.

Next came the identification of several more common herbs, and Andrew's notebook gained several more masterpieces full of distinctive features that only he himself could recognize.

After that, however, their kindly Herbology professor never again attempted to look through Andrew's notebook.

After class, most of the young wizards had been strolling along leisurely. But once someone mentioned that their next class was Defense Against the Dark Arts, everyone began charging toward the common room at full speed.

The other classes were certainly good, but they were still somewhat less appealing than Defense Against the Dark Arts, which involved directly using violence.

Unfortunately, Andrew had no desire to charge ahead whatsoever. If it were not a required class, he would have preferred to stay as far away as possible.

Even in the quick guide, the professor in charge of Defense Against the Dark Arts was the most important figure. If there had been even the slightest way to report someone anonymously without exposing himself, he would already have reported this first Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to the school.

Other than sending an anonymous letter by owl, which could be traced if anyone wanted to investigate, how could I secretly put a letter on Dumbledore's desk and make him suspicious enough to investigate?

After thinking for a long time without finding any good method, Andrew could only sigh. Resigned to his fate, he returned to the common room, quickly washed up, changed clothes, and prepared for class.

"Do you smell something?"

"Garlic... a very strong garlic smell..."

While they were still some distance from the classroom, the students who had just washed off the smell of dragon dung realized that they might have washed for nothing.

By the time they reached the classroom, several people's expressions had become quite colorful.

But the grim reality was just that: Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, had decorated his classroom with garlic—and the smell was especially overpowering.

The physical pressure and psychological pressure are both maxed out...

Andrew even took the initiative to pull his roommates toward seats farther back. His reasoning was perfectly sound. "You all know about Professor Quirrell's huge turban, right? I suspect there's a ring of garlic underneath it. He's just using the turban to cover it up so he won't look too strange."

This completely fabricated excuse was somehow accepted by most of the class.

Still, despite what he had said, Andrew had some expectations for this class. After all, he could only learn from this professor in class; everything else would have to be self-study. It was not like the other subjects, where he could shamelessly linger and ask questions.

That was simply too uncertain. Other professors might at worst brush him off after selectively answering a few questions, but if this professor decided something about him was suspicious before leaving, he would not need any psychological preparation to get rid of him.

And once he became familiar with you and roughly knew the range of your activities, it would not be strange for him to suddenly use your life as bait in a trap to give himself time and space to act.

If Andrew had been sorted into Slytherin back then and made up some sort of background for himself, perhaps he could have safely freeloaded a little knowledge. But now... it was better for them to maintain a simple, unfamiliar teacher-student relationship.

Though all of this was internal grumbling, Andrew had to admit that this strongest professor was genuinely capable in class. Although he deliberately stammered while speaking, he did not sound uncertain. The lesson itself was quite smooth from beginning to end.

But his roommates had no intention of letting him off.

"How come we didn't see you go up and ask the professor questions? What, do you really want to?"

People die from being that mouthy. Don't tempt fate.

Andrew hurriedly made up an excuse. "I'm not that interested in this subject. I prefer the feeling of controlling objects that Transfiguration gives me."

"Tsk, tsk. A practical wizard—or is it because Transfiguration gives more points?"

"I can't deny that's part of the reason."

Andrew spoke with complete seriousness.

"Tch!"

"Come on, let's eat... I hope there isn't any garlic in lunch. Otherwise, it'll bring back unpleasant memories..."

"What could be worse than a whole day without the professor casting a single spell?"

"There is. From the looks of it, the next Defense Against the Dark Arts class won't teach any spells either..."

After a string of not particularly pleasant remarks, the students leaving later headed toward the dining hall amid laughter, teasing, and complaints. Meanwhile, the students ahead, walking in small groups, quickened their pace, and a faint dividing line appeared between the two groups.