Herman put down the book, took out his wand, and tried to make the gesture.
He first broke down the movements, then tried rotating, then translating, and finally combined the three movements together.
My left hand is completely useless; the coordination of my entire wrist is lacking.
I tried it with my right hand once, and I could barely complete the movement, but the fluidity and rhythm were lacking, with obvious pauses and breaks in the middle.
He practiced several times, but each time he reached the third step, his wrist would deviate from the intended trajectory, his consistency always lacking. He put down his wand, glanced at his right hand, and then looked at the complex hand gesture diagram in the book. He realized that with his current skill level, he probably wouldn't even achieve a 50% success rate. Moreover, the way the book described things didn't suit him; phrases like "approximately rotate" and "slightly lean forward" were torture for someone accustomed to precise data and standardized procedures.
Herman decided to give it a try and looked around.
The surrounding tables were all empty, and a few Ravenclaw students were reading in the distance. They were far enough away that no one was looking in their direction. As long as he didn't cause an explosion, no one should notice. He wasn't Seamus, who could create explosions with any magic.
He gripped the wand again and gently waved it at the leg of an empty stool beside him. A dark red light shot from the tip of the wand and struck the wood of the stool leg.
The stool first shook violently, as if something inside was rapidly expanding and contracting, and then the left leg shattered into fine powder, which fell to the ground and accumulated into a small pile of grayish-white debris.
The right leg transformed into a slender sapling, its tender green leaves just unfurling, its roots digging into the cracks in the floor, as if it intended to settle there.
One of the remaining two legs was charred, its surface covered with cracks, crumbling at the slightest touch. The last leg split into several irregularly shaped pieces of wood, scattered on the ground with jagged edges.
Herman looked down at the pile of oddly shaped wooden remains in silence for a long while, then silently put down his wand, confirming that his spell had indeed failed completely, or perhaps not completely, just with a low recovery rate.
He glanced around to make sure no one had noticed the commotion he had made, then rolled up his right sleeve and waved lightly at the pile of wreckage.
The wooden debris floated up, gathering into a ball in the air, with the powder at the edges being gently tumbled by the airflow.
He raised his hand again, and flames surged from his palm, instantly enveloping the entire pile of wooden debris. The flames licked the surface of each fragment, producing a soft crackling sound.
Unfortunately, the temperature wasn't high enough. After the flames went out, a small amount of gray powder remained on the ground, with a few specks of residual heat still clinging to the edges.
Herman waved his hand again, and a window in the distance silently opened a crack. Ashes were carried away by a gust of air and scattered into tiny specks of light in the afternoon sun before being blown away by the wind.
He sat down again. Good. Although the new magic wasn't very successful, he had already tailored and developed a set of techniques for destroying evidence, which would come in handy someday.
Herman gathered the books on the table, picked out three that looked most useful and tucked them under his arm, then put the rest back on the bookshelf.
He went to the lending desk and handed the books to Madam Pince. Madam Pince took them, opened the cover, glanced at them, then stamped the title page with her stamp. As she handed them back, she casually remarked, "These were personally collected by Headmaster Dumbledore for the library. Don't fold pages or underline them."
Herman took the book, nodded, and put it in his bag.
It seems that, just as Professor Malin said, these books were collected by Dumbledore, and are probably all out of print, exclusively held by the Hogwarts Library, and cannot be purchased anywhere else.
I need to copy more myself, otherwise I'll have to borrow it again when I want to use it. It would be even better if there was a magic that could copy things. By the way, that pen I just saw is nice, I need to make it quickly.
If you have any questions, you can also copy the answers into the book or notes and ask Professor Malin directly, which is convenient.
Also, next time you read, it's best to do so in the Room of Requirement or your dorm room. At least then, if you have the urge to do an experiment and mess it up, no one will catch you on the spot.
When I returned to the common room that evening, Draco was sitting in the dark green armchair by the fireplace, her legs crossed, holding a steaming glass of Pumpkin Juice. There was another glass on the table in front of her, as if she had been waiting for a while.
She sat up straight as soon as she saw Herman walk in, waved in his direction, and exclaimed with barely suppressed excitement, "We're finally back! Now that everyone's here, I have some good news to announce!"
Herman placed his schoolbag on the corner of the table, sat down in the chair opposite her, and casually remarked, "Good news? You're giving me the family vault?"
Draco's smile froze for a moment, "How could that be? You're not surnamed Malfoy."
Herman leaned back in his chair and added casually, "Then give me the treasury, and I'll change my surname."
That's the good thing about time travelers: orphans have nothing to fear, and what's the difference between having the surname Horace and Malfoy?
At this point, Herman glanced at Harry, who was engrossed in a book on the chair next to him, and feeling that he couldn't show favoritism, he added, " Harry, you can too, and I can change my last name to Potter."
Harry paused in her book-flipping motion, glanced up at him, her expression a mix of shock and speechlessness. Her lips moved slightly, but she said nothing, probably stunned by Herman's shamelessness.
Draco couldn't sit still any longer. She put the Pumpkin Juice on the table, jumped up from her chair, and rushed over to give Herman a good beating with her little fists.
Herman's wounds had healed, and he was much more agile. He dodged her first punch by turning to the side and then leaned back to avoid the second one. Draco's fists missed both times.
She chased after him a couple more times, but missed again. She stopped, panting, her cheeks flushed from the movement, her breathing slightly erratic. Stray hairs on her forehead were lifted by the wind and fell back down, a few strands sticking to her temples. Her big eyes stared at him with the annoyance of a child throwing a tantrum.
Herman looked at her and found her appearance much more pleasing to the eye than when she was usually aggressive, so he didn't dodge and let her hit him.
Draco's fist landed on his shoulder, not hard, then she hit him again, before stopping when she got bored and sitting back down in her chair.
Herman, seeing her puffed-up face, gestured with his hand. "Okay, what's the good news?"