Hogwarts: Voldemort, don't stop me from studying!

"Oh, Vader."

Professor Flitwick's voice came from above. Wade looked up and saw the professor standing on a tall, automatically sliding ladder. The ladder retracted step by step until it became a low step, from which Professor Flitwick jumped down.

He said happily, "I am very satisfied with your paper on the 'Softening Spell.' Child, do you have any new questions today?"

“Yes.” Wade took out the notes he had borrowed earlier and said, “I have finished studying the entire ‘Standard Spells: Level Three’ and would like you to test my level.”

“No problem, hmm… let’s cast a happiness spell first!” Professor Flitwick said.

Over the next period of time, Vader demonstrated more than a dozen spells that third graders would learn, and all of them were successful on the first try. Professor Flitwick was so excited that he almost fainted!

"Oh, Wade! Oh, Wade! You're absolutely a genius!" he exclaimed. "Only three months! I've watched you go from knowing nothing to this level! The progress is incredible! At this rate, you'll reach OWL level in less than a year! You're destined to be an amazing person!"

Wade smiled and said, "Professor, I would like to continue borrowing the Level 4 textbooks and notes."

“Of course. I’m all set! I knew you’d finish before the Christmas holidays.” Professor Flitwick waved his wand, and several books flew off the table. They were his own copy of “Standard Spells: Level Four,” along with materials he had researched for his classes, lesson plans he had prepared, and excellent papers left by previous students.

Professor Flitwick had been teaching at Hogwarts for decades and had long since reached the point where he only needed to bring a wand to class. However, he never threw away the things he had written in his early years. Instead, he carefully organized and kept them, and he is still repairing them intermittently to this day.

Vader's eyes allowed him to quickly learn a spell. But the same fire spell could be used by some to light a cigarette, by others to light a campfire, and by still others to burn down a city.

This is a difference in power.

In terms of control, some people's fire spells will inexplicably blast them into a charred mess, while others can control the flames once they are lit, making them deform, burn, and extinguish at will.

The difference is not only due to the gap in magic power, but also to the wizard's understanding of the essence of spells.

Wade's eyes were meant to teach him to "learn," textbooks and library books were meant to help him "understand," but the materials from Professor Flitwick's place allowed him to grasp the line of "control."

Chapter 39 Griffiths' Farewell Ceremony

Having borrowed the book, Vader continued to ask questions—Professor Flitwick's book already explained the contents of Charms in great detail, so he asked about spells related to Defense Against the Dark Arts, such as the Ironclad Charm, Disarming Charm, Barrier Charm, and so on.

Those who know, know the level of the Defense Against the Dark Arts course at Hogwarts. Professor Flitwick didn't let him ask Quirrell, but instead patiently explained it to him in detail, and even lent him a few more books in the end.

Wade was very grateful.

There is only one magic school in the entire UK, Hogwarts. The professors at the school do not check KPIs, do not publicly compare pass rates or excellence rates, and do not conduct year-end assessments or performance evaluations. The professors at the school truly teach entirely based on their conscience. Some are conscientious and responsible, some just go through the motions, and some teach whatever they feel like, completely disregarding the fact that students still have to take wizarding level exams.

After asking his question, Wade remembered Griffiths's request and asked, "Professor, there's a portrait artist complaining that his current place is too deserted and wants me to help him move it to a more lively foyer. Is that possible?"

Professor Flitwick asked, "Is the portrait a portrait of someone holding a position?"

Some of the portraits at Hogwarts serve as guardians; for example, the portrait of the Fat Lady outside the Gryffindor common room cannot be moved easily.

Wade thought for a moment: "Probably not. He said he was originally in the foyer, but moved to the Astronomical Tower to make room for other portraits."

“Oh, I know who you’re talking about.” Professor Flitwick smiled. “Griffiths was moved out mainly because many portraits complained that he was disturbing their sleep and that he was encouraging Peeves to play pranks on Ministry of Magic officials who came to inspect the school. The headmaster and professors at the time thought he should be taught a lesson, so he was moved to the quietest place on campus.”

“And his request—” Wade asked tentatively.

“There’s nothing wrong with liking a lively atmosphere,” Professor Flitwick said tolerantly. “As long as he promises not to encourage Peeves to cause trouble anymore, you can move him to another place. But the foyer is probably not an option; many of the portraits there have a problem with Griffiths.”

……

"Sigh, okay, okay. But I really don't understand why they don't like pranks? Pranks bring people so much joy!"

Griffiths, while making excuses for himself, darted quickly between the several portraits around him—

"Hey, old man, I'm off—Salom, I'd love to hear from you if you write to me in your spare time, though I don't know if I'll ever receive it—Barry, and dear Franchisko, thank you for your hospitality, this is a return gift!"

After removing the portrait, Wade watched as Griffiths turned the old man's telescope 180 degrees, snatched the bespectacled witch's quill and ink, and finally poured the ink on one of the mischievous children's heads and shoved the quill into another child's nostril.

After provoking all the portraits, he darted back to his own portrait and shouted to Wade, "Hurry! Hurry!"

But the portraits didn't care about spatial distance. Even though Vader had already left the corridor with the portrait, the figures in the portrait still chased him into Griffiths' territory and beat up the red-haired wizard.

The bespectacled witch was furious for the first time. She kicked Griffiths hard and screamed, "Do you know how long I've been calculating! How long I've been calculating!"

The kids seemed to be using Griffiths as a trampoline, jumping and shouting on him.

The old man who observed the stars caught up with them last, and with all his might, he gave them two more blows. Then, seemingly having strained his back, he went back, clutching his waist and looking pained.

Wade, of course, couldn't interfere with the brawl depicted in the portrait. After everyone dispersed, he looked at Griffiths, who resembled a lump of mud, and asked helplessly, "You were about to leave, and you still got yourself beaten up like this? What was the point?"

"Haha, you don't understand." Griffiths rolled over, his forehead still bearing the footprint, and lay down on the grass in the valley, laughing heartily, "Isn't this the best farewell ceremony?"

Wade truly didn't understand.

Griffiths put his hands behind his head, looked at the sky, and said, "I don't want to leave quietly, so they might not realize for a long time—ah, that red-haired guy seems to be gone; I also don't want to have a sad farewell with tears. Wouldn't it be better if we had a good time, and everyone was happy when it ended?"

Wade pondered for a moment: "So it's like this—everyone else achieved happiness, but only your world, which was injured, did that work out?"

Griffiths was taken aback for a moment, then burst into laughter: "Wade, you're actually quite funny!"

As he laughed, the chaotic scene in the portrait slowly returned to normal—Griffiths' footprints disappeared, his torn robe was restored, the trampled flowers and grass straightened up, and the broken branches on the trees grew back.

Only the bruises on his face hadn't completely disappeared.

“Griffiths, you must be a Gryffindor yourself, right?” Wade asked as he hung the portrait on the wall.

“Of course! You can tell at a glance, right?” Griffiths peered through the frame, trying to look around. “What is this place?”

“You can’t go back to the lobby. It’s the only way from the auditorium to the library, and almost all students pass by here every day. Your request should be granted,” Wade said.

"Oh, not bad, not bad." Griffiths was very satisfied.

In the corridor, some portraits quietly observed the "newcomer," and some even huddled together whispering.

Hermione happened to be passing by carrying a stack of books, with two familiar faces beside her—Harry and Ron. They had probably just returned from the library and were arguing in hushed tones.

“I bet my flying broomstick that Snape let the troll in! He wanted to steal what was being guarded by Cerberus,” Harry said, holding his breath.

“No, he wouldn’t!” Hermione said angrily. “You can’t make such malicious assumptions about a professor at the school!”

“To be honest, Hermione, you always think the school teachers are saints!” Ron said impatiently. “But I said it—I! Saw! It! With! My! Eyes! When the trolls appeared, I went to find you, and I saw Snape sneak upstairs! Harry also saw Snape’s leg bitten and bleeding profusely. Why do you ignore these facts and believe him just because he’s a professor?”

“I believe it’s not just because he’s a professor at the university, but also because of Dumbledore! If he were a bad person, Dumbledore couldn’t have gone for over a decade without realizing it!”

Hermione strode away angrily, no longer wanting to argue with them. She called out, "Hey, Wade, are you going to study? Let's go together."

“Hmm—okay.” Hermione’s attitude left no room for refusal. Wade nodded to Harry and Ron, then turned and left with Hermione.

"—Incomprehensible, isn't it?" Ron said with a frown. "Couldn't Dumbledore have been fooled by Snape? Even Merlin was deceived sometimes!"

Harry nodded silently, still convinced that Snape was the bad guy.

"Good afternoon, students!" a warm voice echoed from the wall. "You're all Gryffindors, right? I'm a Gryffindor too. I'm Griffiths, and you are?"

Ron said, "He's Harry Potter, and I'm Ron Weasley. I don't think we've met before?"

“Yes, because I just moved here today!” Griffiths recalled, “Weasley and Potter, I seem to know wizards with that surname before, they must be your ancestors, right?”

"really?"

Now even Harry became interested, and the two temporarily forgot about their previous topic and started talking about the portrait on the wall.

Chapter 40 The Weasleys

Aside from Charms and Transfiguration, Vader spent the most time on alchemy. While learning alchemy, he was also constantly deepening his understanding of the other courses.

The book "Making Magical Items from Scratch" that Professor Morrie lent him was completely different from other alchemy books. It had almost no dry history and theory, nor did it spend a lot of time explaining the relationship between the four elements. Instead, it started from the very first line and explained how to make various magical items.

From common items like self-inking quills, moving photographs, flying brooms, and howling letters, to rarer items like the Pensieve, the Magic Mirror, the Invisibility Cloak, and the Guardian Armor, the book contains almost every magical item Vader has ever seen or heard of. It even mentions the Sorting Hat and the Time-Turner, though the latter is only described as a hypothesis without any concrete manufacturing process.

The magical items mentioned earlier cannot be created simply by reading books—just as someone who doesn't understand electricity or programming cannot build a computer even if they know the complete manufacturing process. The complexity and danger of magical items far exceed that of computers; without the corresponding basic knowledge, even the simplest steps cannot be understood.

Wade studied with Professor Morrie for a few weeks, listening to his critiques of sixth and seventh graders' homework and artwork. He also helped Professor Morrie create a teaching aid for his classes. After some training, Professor Morrie suggested he try making the simplest magical items himself—just a few spells combined appropriately could produce some amazing effects; the self-inking quill and the howling letter were examples of this type.

Some ideas popped into Vader's mind, such as making the quill pen automatically change the color of the ink while writing, or adding a distance measurement function to his glasses, or even creating a dancing puppet—almost as soon as he made these ideas, the spell and specific steps for creating it were generated in his mind.

The spells and runes he needed to use were very basic, and he had already mastered them completely. He should be able to succeed after a few more practice sessions, Vader was confident of that—but did he really have to do it?

In that case, what's the difference between his work and those student works that Professor Murray called "garbage"? They're both just copying others' work, perfunctorily completing assignments, and their works have little value.

This was Vader's first alchemical creation, and he didn't want it to be so casual, nor did he want it to end up in a junkyard after he finished it.

That night, Wade's mind was filled with thoughts, and he couldn't fall asleep. In that half-awake state, he suddenly heard a rustling sound.

Vader sat up in bed, took out his wand and waved it, lighting the oil lamp in the dormitory, which quietly emitted an orange-yellow light.

It was extremely quiet inside and outside the dormitory, with only faint noises coming from outside the window.

Wade put on his clothes, got out of bed, and walked to the window, only to find that it was snowing outside.

Heavy snowflakes fell softly, enveloping the entire castle in pure white. The thick snow covered everything, creating a sense of extraordinary tranquility and spaciousness.

A sudden inspiration struck Wade, and he knew what he was going to do. When this idea came to him, all other ideas seemed so fancy and empty.

He returned to bed in a good mood and slept soundly until dawn.

……

Wade thought he had already gone too far by throwing Quirrell so hard that his face was covered in blood, but he didn't expect that to be nothing compared to what the Weasley twins would do next – they cast a spell on several snowballs, making them chase Quirrell around and finally hit him on the back of the head.

Professor McGonagall was furious. She stormed out of the Great Hall and deducted a full thirty points from the twins—that is, from her own college! She also punished them with a month of confinement—half a month before the Christmas break, and another half a month after they returned from the break.

The Weasley twins pretended to be repentant and apologized earnestly, but as soon as they were out of the professor's sight, they became smug.

"Why are you targeting Quirrell?" Wade asked curiously, standing in the corridor. For someone like him who knew the truth, what the two had just done was like pulling teeth from a tiger's mouth.

Furthermore, while the Weasley brothers enjoyed playing pranks, they had no reason to provoke the professor. After all, Gryffindor students highly value their House Cup scores (because falling behind would certainly invite ridicule from Slytherin), and even if Professor Quirrell had deducted two hundred points from them in one go, no one would have had a say.

Wade found it strange—when did they become so reckless?