Harry Returning from Hogwarts Legacy

Of course, the person who attacked other students with this magic spell in the corridor was taken away for detention that very day.

From Mr. Gladwin Moen’s basement came a series of dreadful screams.

The next morning, when Gryffindor’s Lawrence appeared in the common room, everyone was shocked.

His hair was disheveled, his face bruised and swollen, clearly having suffered quite a bit of abuse.

But his spirit was actually quite good.

"It’s not even as hard as my dad’s beating." He said cheerfully, "Is that all they can do? I was really expecting to be strung up by my ribs, haha!"

Harry looked at him with a touch of admiration, so even this isn’t as hard as your dad’s beating?

Looks like the Dursley family isn’t too bad after all.

In fact, he didn’t know that a hundred years ago, there was no child protection at all; child labor like Dai Ying was everywhere, have you ever heard of a chimney sweep with three years of service at five?

On Tuesday afternoon, Harry finally awaited the special tutorial for Spell Class.

He didn’t know why Professor Ronan would give him individual tutoring, but he went anyway.

"Don’t worry, Harry." Gareth patted his shoulder and said, "Nothing bad will happen, Professor Ronan has spoken to my aunt about it."

Harry finally felt relieved.

"This class, I am going to teach you how to enhance the use of the Lighting Spell." Professor Ronan pulled the curtains of the classroom, and suddenly the room turned dim.

After a moment, Professor Ronan used a Transformation Spell to create several creatures draped in black robes, looking slightly sinister and eerie.

"What you need to do now is to use the Lighting Spell to drive away such creatures."

Professor Ronan picked up his magic wand, the tip lit up with a splendid light, and the nearest creature in a black robe immediately vanished into smoke.

Harry curiously glanced at Professor Ronan and then started practicing.

However, the results were not satisfactory. He failed to perform the Lighting Spell at the level of Professor Ronan, only barely managing to drive the incoming creatures to different places.

Professor Ronan’s expression was serious, continuously watching Harry’s magic wand and those incoming creatures.

When the alarm finally rang, the curtains were opened, sunshine spilled into the classroom, and those creatures in black robes immediately scattered and disappeared.

"Passable, Mr. Potter." Professor Ronan put away the wand, "I hope to see you perform a better Lighting Spell when I see you on Saturday afternoon, Mr. Potter."

Harry nodded breathlessly, sweat all over his forehead.

As he was about to leave, he hesitated.

"What’s wrong?" Professor Ronan asked.

"Professor." Harry finally asked his lingering question, "Why is it that, although you’re so skilled, people are spreading... well, certain things about you?"

Professor Ronan understood Harry’s meaning.

He chuckled and said, "People don’t believe that an Indian wizard can be a competent professor. Well, what you need to do most right now is go back to the hall, have a hot drink, and eat something to replenish your strength."

"I understand, thank you, Professor." Harry said sincerely.

On Wednesday, they had a History of Magic class, and Harry was a bit excited, but Gareth told him not to get excited too early.

"Why?" Harry asked puzzled, "Don’t you want to learn about the vast and magnificent history of the Magic World?"

"Oh, I certainly do." Gareth rolled his eyes, "But the problem is with the professor of this class—uh, you’ll know when you get there."

Sure enough, during class, Harry understood why.

This was the only class taught by a ghost; it’s said that years ago, Professor Bin fell asleep by the fireplace in the staff room and forgot to bring his body to class the next morning, indicating that Professor Bin was indeed quite old.

During class, Professor Bin droned on with a monotonous voice, and students messily scribbled down names and dates, mistakenly mixing up villain Morik and strange Yurik.

"I just want to sleep now." Harry said, his eyelids drooping to Gareth.

And Gareth was already asleep, smacking his lips as if tasting something delicious.

On Friday, Harry faced their first Magic Potion Class.

Magic Potions sounded full of expectations, Harry had also read Magic Potion books, eager to learn how to brew those amazingly wondrous potions...

"I agree, Magic Potion Class will be quite good." Gareth said with high expectations, "Think of it, Magic Potion Class is simply a treasure trove..."

A treasure trove?

Hmm, it sure is a treasure trove.

Harry agreed with Gareth, isn’t Magic Potion a treasure trove waiting to be developed?

The Magic Potion Class was held in a basement classroom. It was colder than the upper castle main building.

Glass jars lined along the walls, with animal specimens inside making one shiver uncontrollably.

The teacher of Magic Potion Class was Professor Sharp, a middle-aged wizard with slightly long hair and a full beard, giving an impression of an experienced, rugged look.

Simultaneously, he was also the head of Slytherin.

Professor Sharp picked up the attendance book during the class.

He paused noticeably when he got to Gareth’s name and even lifted his head to glance at Gareth.

"Magic Potion is a precise science." Professor Sharp said, leaning his elbows on the lectern, looking at the students below, "The proportions in Magic Potions are exceptionally precise, allowing no deviation—any deviation can cause the effects to change dramatically, even turning life-saving potions into deadly ones, so I hope you can pay close attention in class and not sit idly by, like Mr. Weasley—"

Saying this, he picked up a piece of chalk and threw it at Gareth’s head.

"Ow!" Gareth cried out in pain, the chalk piece hit with great accuracy.

"Gryffindor loses one point due to Mr. Weasley." Professor Sharp said with a straight face, "I hope you remember this lesson, Mr. Weasley."

Gareth let out a small "oh."

Professor Sharp opened his mouth again.

"Your task this class is to brew a Potion of Scabs, work in pairs—of course, I hope you are not grouping by house but are scrambled and reassorted, understand?"

Everyone understood his meaning, it’s not Gryffindor paired with Gryffindor, but Gryffindor paired with Slytherin.

Coincidentally, both houses had twelve students.

Just as Harry was considering whom to partner with, a haughty voice suddenly sounded in his ear.

"You, Potter."

He turned around, and it was that proud little blond girl, who lifted her head and said from a high place, "You are partnered with me."

"Alright, Miss Malfoy." Harry complied immediately.

No choice, the Malfoy family are school trustees, after all.

Harry couldn’t afford to offend this young lady; what if they stopped funding him, or worse, expelled him from the school?

The Magic Potion Class continued, and Professor Sharp elegantly moved around the basement classroom, watching them weigh dry nettles and grind snake fangs.

Almost all students were slapped on the back of the head by Professor Sharp—except Harry and Miss Malfoy.

Harry felt his good luck might be credited to Miss Malfoy; he was completely working as her assistant.

Admittedly, Miss Malfoy showed considerable talent in Magic Potion Class; her steps in steaming snails with tentacles were extremely perfect, quite a sight to behold.

"I hope you can be of some use, Potter." Miss Malfoy’s icy voice rang, "I hope you can crush snake fangs, not stand there like a Little Giant dazing."

"Alright, Miss Malfoy."

Harry immediately weighed the appropriate weight of fangs, placed them in a mortar, and carefully ground them into powder.

"I’m done, Miss Malfoy." He handed the powdered fangs to Miss Malfoy.

Miss Malfoy merely glanced at the powdered fangs casually and proceeded to say, "And the porcupine quill, Potter, don’t make me guide you on the next step!"

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