A certain Hogwarts professor of runes

The young wizards were discussing excitedly; as fifth-graders, they rarely encountered such interesting courses—every professor was pushing them to their full potential as much as possible.

Of course, to some extent, this is also a debt they incurred in the previous four years.

In the hallway, Warren Pardis said to his friend with some frustration, "I could have won, I just had bad luck."

"You're being too aggressive; you got at least ten questions wrong," his friend replied.

The young wizards strolled out of the classroom, and Felix rubbed his slightly sore fingers.

The "stage effects" of this knowledge competition were all created by him, one magic trick at a time. From the nine-square grid to the score changes and the color feedback for correct and incorrect answers, he handled everything himself.

"That was a miscalculation. Next time, we'll use a 10-point system."

Felix tried it out in the second and third grades in the afternoon, with excellent results—even the "struggling students" of ancient runes remained alert in class.

This made his thoughts clearer.

"We can do more of these kinds of game-based teaching methods in the future, but the premise is to do a good job of preparation." In the evening cafeteria, Felix listlessly picked up a potato drizzled with black sauce. After a long day, he felt a little weak.

Little by little, the number of spells he cast today clearly exceeded the limit.

Public lounge.

The twins, Fred and George, are battling with magical golems; they have already learned the second and third sets of practical runes.

This made their battle extremely entertaining. With each punch, Fred's magical puppet would unleash a ring of electricity, making a crackling sound. Because he was so close, Li Jordan's hair stood on end.

On the other side, George was equally impressive. His magical puppet was the extremely popular "Fire Man," and every time he used his signature "Big Fireball," it would draw a chorus of praise.

Just then, Percy Weasley slipped in from outside the lounge, having just finished his rounds. Upon seeing him, Ron, who was in the corner, promptly turned his head away.

The two are still in a cold war.

"Ron, haven't you two made up yet?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"Unless he apologizes to me," Ron insisted.

Harry sighed. He didn't say much, since Ron had essentially taken the blame for the three of them and lost face.

"Hey! Percy, I heard you got a perfect score from Professor Hyp today?" a Gryffindor asked.

Percy puffed out his chest with a smug air, making his prefect badge even more conspicuous. "Yes, Professor Hyp has tried new teaching methods, and I must admit, he is quite a wise man."

"You even defeated Slytherin!"

Percy said modestly, "It's just a competition. To be more precise, on a ten-point scale, I'm leading my opponent by nine points."

The Gryffindors exclaimed in admiration once again, "Percy truly deserves his reputation as a top student who has earned 12 certificates."

"Nine points ahead!" Ron repeated dismissively.

Harry quickly changed the subject, "Hermione, did you ask Professor Hyp about the Basilisk?"

Hermione shook her head. "I rarely see the professor from Monday to Friday." Unless there are papers that need her to grade.

"But it'll be too late by the weekend!" Harry said reluctantly. "What if an attack happens in the meantime..."

He slammed his fist on the table, startling two young wizards who were passing by. They glanced at Harry fearfully and quickly walked past him.

"Look, they all think I'm the murderer!"

"Harry, shall we go find Professor Hyp now?" Hermione glanced at him cautiously.

Harry glanced at the clock; it was already past nine o'clock at night. "Tomorrow," he said, slumping dejectedly into his chair like a deflated balloon.

They were pretty much certain that the monster in the Chamber of Secrets was the Basilisk, and regarding Hermione's confusion—the Basilisk's gaze was deadly, yet the two attacks had only resulted in petrification—Harry had his own speculation: the victims hadn't made direct eye contact with the Basilisk; Mrs. Norris had seen it through reflections in the water, while Colin Creevey had seen it through the camera lens.

However, whether this is correct remains to be confirmed, given the small sample size.

At this moment, Ron said to him, "Harry, is the magical puppet that Professor Hyp gave you in your backpack?"

"Yes," Harry replied listlessly.

He practiced a few times in private, but he was still lacking in skill and could only barely control the puppet to walk normally.

"How about we give it a try?" Ron glanced at Percy in the crowd.

"Here?" Harry was unsure.

Hermione's eyes lit up. She had wanted to try this look for a long time, and she had fallen in love with it during the open class at the beginning of the semester.

Ice-blue hair and a delicate, lovely face perfectly captured her heart.

"Perhaps... this isn't a good choice..." Hermione said, though she didn't mean it, but she didn't stop Harry from taking the magical puppet out of his bag.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Fred walked over with his arm around George's shoulder.

"Oh, just a magical puppet," Ron said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Fred was surprised when he saw the puppet in Harry's hand. "This is no ordinary puppet." Judging from appearance alone, the two are completely incomparable.

"Professor Hyp gave it to me," Ron said.

Fred picked up the magical puppet. "This thing..." He glanced at George, "I can barely sense any magical energy from it. It's more exquisite than Diggory's ghost dolls—and completely different from the ones we dismantled."

"You even demolished it—"

"Shh!" Fred held up a finger. "Keep your voice down, this is our little secret with Professor Hyp..."

George took the puppet and casually remarked, "We once broke the magical puppet we had."

"It was 'accidentally' broken, and we were terrified at the time," Fred said.

"Worried about getting points deducted or being put in solitary confinement—"

"Or hang him up and whip him with a whip dipped in cold water—"

"So we apologized with trepidation—"

"And then? What punishment did you receive?" Ron asked.

"No, little Ronnie," Fred winked, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, "the professor said we have a real talent for alchemy, and he gave each of us a ten-point bonus, but—"

George sighed. "He barely managed to hold back from deducting points from us when we put the second damaged puppet part in front of him."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

George examined the exceptionally exquisite magical puppet, occasionally letting out a sigh of admiration. Finally, he handed it to Harry: "It's truly remarkable. What have you done?"

"Yes—" Ron was about to speak when Hermione stomped on his foot hard.

The twins exchanged a glance and shrugged.

Fred said, "Would you like us to demonstrate it for you? This puppet must have a lot of new features that I think you're not quite familiar with yet."

"Who said that! Harry, show us what you've got!"

Harry drew his wand, and at his command, the magical puppet swayed and stood up.

Several young wizards looked over from afar.

Harry tried his best to control the magical puppet, but unfortunately, it could only produce a few specks of icy blue snowflakes at best.

"Harry, you don't have enough self-control," Fred said, explaining the reason.

Ha pointed his wand at the magical puppet, feeling as if he had touched its core. He then focused all his attention, trying to awaken the dormant runic circuits.

His magic touched a world of ice and snow, the sharpness and cold making him feel as if he had eaten ten popsicles in one go, his consciousness seemingly frozen.

Harry's face was purple from the cold, and he exhaled a breath of cold air.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Ron stood up in a panic, and anyone could tell that something was wrong with him.

However, the next second——

"Hiss hiss hiss hiss!"

The magical puppet suddenly lit up, and light blue ice crystals fell one after another. The surrounding temperature plummeted. "She" suddenly raised her arm, and a series of icy blue ice pillars rose from the ground, and the cold air spread outwards like rolling waves.

The group stared in disbelief at the scene.

In front of the palm-sized magical puppet, a row of half-person-high icicles extended seven or eight meters away, completely freezing the door to the common room.

A cold, icy mist filled the air, and the young wizards in the common room all sneezed.

Meanwhile, in his office, Professor Hyp was sipping tea and happily flipping through an ancient alchemy book.

Beside him was the Daily Prophet, with today's front-page headline: "Good and Bad: The Vast Gap Between Two New Professors," by Rita Skeeter.