How Can You Sleep at Your Age?!

The storm finally subsided the next morning. However, the ceiling of the Great Hall remained shrouded in gloom.

Professor McGonagall seemed to have been involved in the repairs last night; she looked exhausted this morning and was listlessly handing out class schedules.

William picked up his timetable and began to look at it carefully.

Good heavens, I had no idea what I was getting into!

Although I was mentally prepared, the densely packed class schedule still made my scalp tingle.

This fifth-grade OWL class is like a high school senior's cramming class.

William's roommate, Bradley, completely oblivious, muttered something under his breath when he got the class schedule:

Will Madam Hooch's Flying Class Club still be held regularly?

Professor McGonagall was already in a bad mood, and hearing this made her even more unhappy. She glared at him fiercely.

His expression was as if... Bradley was asking about some heinous crime.

A more specific description would be that he resembled William's math teacher from his previous life.

She often occupies physical education classes, and she gets very unhappy when students ask, "Where is the PE teacher?"

At the time, in order to keep his PE class from being taken away, William naively slipped a love letter into the math teacher's bicycle under the guise of being the PE teacher.

Not long after, the PE teacher really did marry the math teacher.

They even handed out wedding candy in the classroom.

As a result, the physical education teacher's illness never got better for several years, and William never attended a physical education class again.

This is truly a sad story.

"What's wrong with Professor McGonagall? She seems a little unhappy." Hermione walked over and sat down next to William.

"She probably stayed up late last night and is in a bad mood," William casually explained. "Menopausal women are all like this, you'll be too in the future..."

William suddenly fell silent; he had almost blurted out a declaration of death.

"What about me in the future?" Hermione raised her eyebrows high, her eyes flashing with a dangerous light.

"You mean... I'll be like Professor McGonagall in the future, with a bad temper... um, menopause?"

William looked helpless.

Hermione snorted and secretly stepped on William's instep, giving it a gentle twist.

William feigned a Chuchu state.

Hermione, however, was relentless. She glared at him again and snatched away the deluxe honey-glazed chicken sandwich he had made for her.

William watched helplessly as his roujiamo (Chinese meat sandwich), which he had only taken a bite of, was gone just like that.

William had no choice but to roll up his own again, changing the subject as he asked with a smile, "Guess what Professor Dumbledore said to me last night?"

The girl tilted her head, not wanting to pay attention to him, but she still listened intently.

William quickly recounted what had happened the previous night.

Hermione took a bite of chicken, her cheeks puffed out, her dimples bulging, and mumbled, "Tom's definitely looking for Horcrux..."

"Yeah, we can go find the fourth Horcrux this semester."

That's right... the diary, the Diadem, the Slytherin's Ring... finally, news of a fourth Horcrux has emerged.

"Can I come along?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

William smiled and said, "With me here, of course."

As long as Dumbledore doesn't suddenly go mad like last time, there's almost no danger.

Hermione nodded vigorously, then grinned happily.

Then, William brought up Dumbledore's talk about the Triwizard Tournament.

"Does the professor mean... you can participate?" Hermione's eyes lit up.

"Why would I participate... You still don't understand what Dumbledore means." William shook his head.

"The principal is implying that a large number of people can participate."

Hermione looked thoughtful, then asked with a doubtful expression, "Isn't this a bit much...? This is the Triwizard Tournament..."

"Cheating is a tradition in the Triwizard Tournament." William raised his hand, reached out and flicked Hermione's delicate nose, and chuckled, "We're just using the rules fairly."

Besides wanting to use this competition to promote exchanges between the two schools, Dumbledore also wanted to develop the abilities of a group of young wizards.

Dumbledore was always involved in education and wanted to cultivate outstanding students.

Especially the next wizarding war... is coming soon!

He certainly wouldn't have done that without William.

But as the principal said: many students have indeed died, and professors have been injured.

But this time, he wasn't worried.

With William backing him up, what does he need to worry about?!

My only worry is... not being able to let loose enough!

"Don't tell anyone about these things yet," William said quickly.

Hermione nodded quickly.

Just then, a group of people approached from a distance: Qiu, Cedric, Fred, and George.

Cho, Fred, and George are discussing what magical way they can age themselves to fool the Triwizard Tournament.

Cedric didn't participate in the discussion; although he's not yet an adult, his birthday is at the end of September.

When the Triwizard Tournament began, he was already an adult and eligible to run for the title.

Seeing William holding the timetable, Fred grinned mischievously:

"William, we had some inspiration last year about some kind of Skiving Snackboxes."

You need to help us develop it; the Potions we made before weren't very effective.

"You're right, the students will love it," Fred continued.

"We've also just developed Nosebleed Nougat; once you eat it, your nose will bleed non-stop."

Finally, you curled up into a ball, but we haven't figured out an antidote yet.

"Why would we need Skiving Snackboxes?" Hermione asked.

"Fifth grade is O. W. Ls year," George said matter-of-factly.

So what?

"So that means William and the others will have to deal with endless exams, right?"

"That will take away William's time to date you," Fred said gloatingly.

"Is dating more important or studying?" George laughed. "Dating, of course."

Hermione blushed slightly, glanced at William, and said seriously, "The two are not contradictory."

"Okay..." Fred shrugged. The world of academic geniuses was not a realm he could enter.

"But you have to consider the ordinary wizards," George said excitedly.

"We've been there, we have experience. Half of our grade has developed minor health problems because of O. W. Ls."

"In short, fifth grade is a nightmare," Fred said seriously. "You'll feel it from the very first lesson."

In fact, the twins were right; the very first lesson in the History of Magic gave the fifth-year wizards a real shock.

Even the usually taciturn Professor Binns surprisingly brought up the O. W. Ls exam.

He talked for half an hour, panting, about the tragic fates of those who failed the History of Magic.

"Especially the first Dark Lord, Gellert Grindelwald!"

Professor Binns rambled on:

"When he was sixteen, he didn't get his History of Magic certificate, so Durmstrang expelled him!"

From then on, he embarked on a path of crime and became the Dark Lord.

If he had the certificate, perhaps everything would be different; perhaps he would become the principal of Durmstrang.

Everyone realized that to become the Dark Lord... all you had to do was fail the History of Magic course.

Professor Binns became even angrier when McLaggen asked if there were any well-summarized Owls History of Magic notes.

"Everything I've talked about is important, and everything I've mentioned is a test point!"

"..."

Since the teacher doesn't highlight the important points, everyone has no choice but to listen attentively. This kind of dedication is only found in newly enrolled wizards.

But less than fifteen minutes later, the students began to slump over their desks in rows.

No one can resist this "sleep magic" that targets the soul.

Among them, Alan Harris of Ravenclaw snored the loudest.

Professor Binns angrily deducted ten points from Slytherin's score.

In the second Transfiguration lesson, Professor McGonagall also spent fifteen minutes emphasizing the importance of the O. W. L. exam to the whole class.

"Without serious study and application," Professor McGonagall said sternly, "You will not be able to pass the O. W. L. exam."

"I believe that as long as they invest the time and effort, none of the students in this class should fail to obtain the O. W. Ls qualification certificate for the Transfiguration."

Professor McGonagall's pass rate is quite high every year, at least among the top subjects at Hogwarts School.

Unfortunately, many students were still sleepy due to the influence of the previous class.

Matthew Phil went even further, showcasing his signature snoring, whistling, teeth grinding, and sleep talking.

Professor McGonagall could no longer tolerate it; she slammed her fist on the table and said angrily:

How can you sleep? At your age, how can you even sleep?

Have you no self-respect?

In an instant, all the students snapped to attention, trembling as they stared at Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall began explaining the Vanishing Spell.

"Today we will begin learning the Vanishing Spell. The Vanishing Spell is simpler than the Summoning Charm, which you usually practice when you reach S-rank, but it is still the most difficult spell in your O. W. L. exams."

Professor McGonagall was right; until almost the end of class, no one except William managed to make the snail in the exercise disappear.

He merely touched his wand lightly, and the snail he used for practice vanished.

Everyone ignored William, Professor McGonagall continued studying his own things.

Qiu tried several times to make the snail's color lighter, but ultimately failed.

At the end of the class, Professor McGonagall asked a few more questions.

"I've explained this question eight hundred times already. Raise your hand if you don't understand."

She glanced around coldly; no one raised their hand.

"No one raised their hand, right? You all know it, right?" Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. "Alright, you explain!"

Elena Skarana was stunned for two seconds before she realized it was her.

Amidst sympathetic glances, she put down the chubby chicken doll she was holding and stood up, trembling.

She stammered for a long time, like Cedric with Mandrake in his mouth.

"Why didn't you raise your hand if you didn't know?" Professor McGonagall said sternly.

Elena looked at Professor McGonagall with red eyes.

"Look at the blackboard! What are you looking at me for? Do I have Vanishing Spell on my face?"

Elena suddenly burst into tears.

McGonagall: "..."

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