Snot Curse

Professor Foxx's first lesson had gone extremely well.

At the very least, when class ended, Lynn saw smiles on all the young witches' and wizards' faces.

Lynn had also gotten the bonus points he had hoped for in this class.

Because among the first-years from both Houses, he was the first young wizard to successfully cast the Wand-Lighting Charm.

Wednesday's schedule was relatively easy. Aside from the morning's Defense Against the Dark Arts class, there was only Astronomy class in the evening. There was a long stretch of free time in between for the young witches and wizards to use as they pleased.

Instead of spending this free time in the library as usual, Lynn took his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, Dark Magic: A Self-Defense Guide, to the grassy bank beside the Black Lake.

Classes were still in session, so there was no one here.

Lynn opened the textbook and put on one of his only two titles: Freshman Rookie.

The name of this title did not sound very impressive, but its effect was surprisingly useful. It could triple the learning efficiency of basic spells, allowing Lynn to quickly learn and use many of the spells taught in the lower years.

It simply was not suitable for use in crowded places, especially the Slytherin common room.

Although the atmosphere in Slytherin House seemed fairly good for now, people's hearts were impossible to predict.

Who knew whether that friendliness was genuine or merely a superficial facade?

Lynn did not want to test other people's attitudes toward him. Even deliberately displayed kindness was better than openly falling out.

So he had specifically found a place with hardly anyone around, put on the title, and began practicing magic on his own.

Only this kind of visible progress could make Lynn feel slightly more at ease living in the not-so-safe magical world.

The title's effect was excellent.

The moment Lynn put it on, he felt his thoughts become extraordinarily active, while his brain's control over his body had never been stronger.

He looked at the spell recorded in the textbook: the Snot Curse, a spell that would make whoever it hit suffer from a nonstop runny nose.

It had practically no offensive power, but it was disgusting enough.

Following the book's instructions, Lynn waved his wand and softly recited the incantation at a frog by the lake. "Mucus ad Nauseam."

However, nothing happened.

But Lynn was not discouraged in the slightest, because the instant he spoke the incantation, he had sensed that his casting could not possibly succeed.

His incredibly clear mind told him that his wand movement needed to be a little faster and that his pronunciation of the incantation was not precise enough.

So Lynn cast the Snot Curse once more at the frog, which had no idea it had become a test subject:

"Mucus ad Nauseam."

A brilliant green beam shot from Lynn's wand and struck the frog that had been staring blankly by the shore with perfect accuracy.

The frog was startled at once. Croaking frantically, it hopped twice before leaping into the lake.

Lynn smiled silently. Clearly, his spell had succeeded. The frog had not started running because frogs simply did not have the ability to run noses. If the spell had hit a person just now, it would have produced its intended effect.

Until lunchtime, Lynn remained beside the Black Lake, practicing all kinds of spells. The feeling of constantly improving himself was incredibly addictive.

In just half a morning, he had learned the three spells recorded in the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook: the Snot Curse, the Repelling Charm, and the Smoke Screen Charm.

None of these spells were particularly powerful, but under certain circumstances, they could produce unexpected results.

Britain had no good food.

Lynn agreed with that statement quite strongly. But in Europe, there was a great deal of exchange between countries, and cultural barriers were fairly blurred. This was especially evident when it came to food.

British salted fish was terrible, but French cuisine still tasted quite good.

Lynn rather liked the cooking of the house-elves at Hogwarts. Lunch suited his tastes very well.

Just as he was enjoying his meal, Prefect Betty sat down beside him.

"Hi, Lynn. Are you free this afternoon? Professor Snape needs someone to help process some potion ingredients. Students from the other years all have classes this afternoon."

Lynn shook his head. "Sorry, I already have plans this afternoon."

Betty frowned slightly.

"May I boldly ask who with?"

"Professor Foxx." Lynn had no intention of hiding it. He would probably need to use Professor Foxx's name to borrow books from the library's Restricted Section in the future, so there was no way he could conceal their connection.

Betty patted Lynn on the shoulder, signaling for him to look at her. She stared into his eyes, her tone extremely serious.

"Do you remember what I said at the start-of-term feast? Adrian Foxx is a very dangerous person. I don't recommend getting too close to him."

"Of course I remember."

Lynn had nearly finished eating by then. He picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth.

"Thank you for your concern. I'll keep your advice in mind and be careful when I'm around Professor Foxx. Goodbye."

Betty watched Lynn leave, clenched her fist, and pounded the long table in frustration. She could tell that Lynn had not taken her words to heart at all.

Lynn truly had not paid much attention to the prefect's warning. He had seen too many online rumors in his previous life. Any normal person had their own basis for judging things and would not be swayed by other people's words.

For now, Lynn still did not think Professor Foxx was the utterly depraved, perverted murderer people described him as.

That afternoon, outside Professor Foxx's office, Lynn knocked on the door.

"Come in, Lynn." Professor Foxx's voice came from inside, and Lynn pushed open the door and entered.

The office was not large, but it was kept very tidy, completely at odds with Foxx's identity as an older single man.

Lynn walked up to his desk and saw that Professor Foxx appeared to be preparing lesson plans for upper-year classes.

"Make yourself comfortable. I only moved into this office not long ago, so I don't have any afternoon tea or snacks to offer you."

Lynn found a chair and sat down, curiously studying a portrait hanging on the wall.

It depicted a knight holding a lance. The warhorse beneath him was glaring at Lynn while flaring its nostrils.

"Have you adjusted well to life at Hogwarts these past few days?"

Professor Foxx set down his quill, folded his hands on the desk, and asked with a smile.

Lynn pinched his cheeks worriedly. "The food at Hogwarts is too good. I feel like I've gained quite a bit of weight."

Professor Foxx was amused by his words. At the same time, two teacups jumped out of the cabinet beside them on their own and ran over to stop in front of them both.

The teapot on the table suddenly rose into the air, floated over Lynn's cup, and filled it with black tea.

Professor Foxx looked at Lynn seriously.

"You've been exposed to magic for several days now, and you've probably heard some things about me from your classmates. So, Lynn, are you still willing to accept my investment in you?"