"Are you okay?"
Wayne helped the shaken Hermione to her feet, looking at her with concern.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Hermione shook her head, but her gaze towards Seamus was filled with fear.
Magic can be so dangerous!
No, that's not right.
The danger doesn't lie in magic; it lies in Seamus.
She had practiced numerous spells at home without any incidents; the worst that ever happened was a failed spell that simply had no effect.
Hermione said seriously, "From now on, we should keep our distance from Seamus. I don't want to end up in the hospital wing."
Wayne nodded with a smile. He had seen Professor Flitwick already arrange for Seamus and Neville to practice in a corner of the classroom, precisely to avoid them accidentally hurting someone.
Fortunately, Seamus was still just a young wizard, and his magical power was far from strong.
The effect from earlier only looked impressive; the actual damage wasn't significant. Everyone was just startled and quickly recovered.
After class, Hermione had already forgotten that she had been angry with Wayne moments ago and enthusiastically invited him to the library to do homework together.
Wayne had no objections, and the two made their way to the library, immediately closing their mouths upon entering.
Madam Pince, the librarian, was a woman with a notoriously bad temper. She took great care of the books and despised noisy students.
Once someone made her angry, she would wave a feather duster and chase them away.
Wayne suspected she was probably also a bit of a recluse, protecting the books so zealously because they contained the treasures of knowledge she had always longed for.
Hermione took out her Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook and started writing her paper, while Wayne chose to read "The Duelling Handbook" by Cassius.
Cassius was the most famous dueling master of the early twentieth century, having established a record of thirty-eight consecutive victories and dominated the headlines for an entire week.
What made him unique was that he didn't master any advanced magic; he achieved his success with only simple spells.
The book detailed a few of his battles, and Wayne found it indeed contained some useful tips.
Hogwarts was a treasure trove, laid out before everyone.
But not everyone had the ability or energy to take advantage of it.
The professors, not to mention the four house heads, were all accomplished individuals. Receiving their guidance would undoubtedly be invaluable.
Even if you went to ask Snape a question, he might be sharp-tongued, but he would still answer you.
The library was also a gem; it housed centuries of accumulated knowledge within the castle. Students had seven years to improve themselves, but how many actually took that opportunity?
Thus, Hogwarts was wonderfully magical; it offered both a joyful education for everyone and an elite education for the ambitious.
Whether one would thrive like a dragon or crawl like a worm was entirely up to the individual's mindset.
What Wayne found unsatisfactory was that the restricted section was so extensive—it occupied one-third of the entire library.
It hadn't always been that large, but after Dumbledore dealt with Voldemort, it had gradually expanded to its current size.
Even spells like the Patronus Charm were categorized in the restricted section.
Seriously, old bee Dumbledore, I could buy that spell at the Leaky Cauldron!
...
The new semester quickly got into full swing, and the first-year students gradually adjusted to school life.
For most courses, students were pretty satisfied.
Undoubtedly, the young wizards loved their Charms class the most.
The professor was approachable, and there was plenty of time to wave their wands and cast spells during class.
Transfiguration was also decent, but Professor McGonagall was extremely strict, leaving the young wizards a bit on edge, afraid of losing points for their houses.
Moreover, Transfiguration was incredibly difficult. After two classes, many students' arms were nearly sore from waving their wands but made no progress whatsoever.
The matches were still just matches, and not even the shadow of a needle was seen.
A clever Ravenclaw student slyly brought a needle to class and ended up costing her house ten points.
Many students said that they now associated anything slender with a silver needle and felt they had developed needle phobia.
In addition, the Hufflepuff badgers loved their head of house's lessons as well.
Their first-week task was to replace ginger roots, an ingredient used to make potions, such as an anti-scabies potion and intelligence enhancer.
When Professor Sprout announced that these ginger roots sold for five Sickles each in Diagon Alley, Wayne and the other Muggle-born wizards were astonished.
"Don't be so surprised, children," Professor Sprout explained with a smile.
"This ginger is indeed the same one you know, but the value-adding potions and fertilizers used during the planting process are very expensive."
"That's why they sell for such a high price."
"What kind of fertilizer?" Wayne asked curiously.
"Mooncalf dung," Professor Sprout said, pulling out a box filled with silver pellets.
"Mooncalf dung is very potent fertilizer and can also enhance potion efficacy, but it must be fresh and properly processed."
Wayne nodded, noting this down.
His readings had mostly focused on potion-making and ingredient selection, so he hadn't really looked into the growing and care of these basic materials.
He felt a little embarrassed; Herbology was supposed to be his head of house's subject, yet he hadn't taken it seriously.
He promised himself to catch up by reading more Herbology books.
Aside from that, the young wizards weren't very interested in the other subjects.
For instance, Astronomy required them to climb the tower on Wednesday nights around ten, holding telescopes to gaze at the stars.
It sounded romantic, but the timing was too late—many young wizards were already yawning from exhaustion.
They also had to write a ten-inch-long astronomical observation report afterwards, which was quite torturous.
As for History of Magic, it hardly needed mentioning. Every word from Professor Binns was like a lullaby spell; no one but Hermione could endure it.
The stories about how wizards in the early days were revered as gods were very interesting, and he could read them easily on his own.
But when relayed by Professor Binns, they turned into dull letters.
Everyone had started treating History of Magic as a perfect place for catching up on sleep, as Professor Binns never interfered with the students—so long as you didn't jump up and cause chaos, you could do whatever you wanted.
Lastly, the Defense Against the Dark Arts class was a complete letdown.
Quirrell stuttered so much; how could he teach effectively?
Rumors even spread that a young wizard had made Quirrell cry with a question.
Most didn't take it seriously, but as the rumors spread, they grew more detailed, even including the young wizard's name.
With the details so vivid, they couldn't help but believe it.
Wayne Lawrence's name once again came to the forefront of everyone's minds.
___________________________________________________________________________
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