Early the next morning, Wade went straight to Professor McGonagall's office and retrieved the Time-Turner he had longed for.
"I've heard all about what happened," Professor McGonagall said with a warm, approving smile. Her tone was gentle. "Welcome back, Wade."
"Thank you, Professor." Wade hung the golden Time-Turner back around his neck and tucked it under his clothes. He smiled and said. "Also, thank you for exempting me from last week's essay."
"When it comes to transfiguring inanimate objects into living beings, I trust that knowledge is already well-rooted in your mind. Whether you write about it or not makes little difference."
Professor McGonagall looked at Wade and asked, "Wade, I assume you've received your new class schedule?"
"Yes," Wade replied. "It's pretty much the same as last term."
"Oh, that's because it was generated with the help of the Magic Quill—it's not capable of considering more nuanced cases. For instance, certain students' schedules may need to be adjusted for maximum efficiency."
Professor McGonagall drew her wand from her sleeve and tapped the parchment on the table. Lines of text appeared from thin air.
"I know most of the third-year curriculum isn't particularly meaningful for you. Here is the content and schedule of the classes I'll be teaching this term for other year groups. Wade, you may choose the sessions most appropriate for you to attend."
Wade took the parchment in surprise and his eyes lit up with disbelief as he looked at the precisely timed schedule, down to the minute.
Professor McGonagall didn't say more. After glancing at the clock, she added, "Alright, the first class is about to begin. You should get going—and remember, even with a Time-Turner in hand, don't abuse your time."
…
The morning began with three overlapping elective classes, but none of the material posed much difficulty for Wade.
In Professor Trelawney's Divination class, as long as he ignored her self-aggrandizing comments, all he really needed to do was flip through the textbook.
Wade had a natural talent for divination. Even without relying on the knowledge summarized by his predecessors, his predictions were far more accurate than those of his classmates.
As for Muggle Studies, that was a no-brainer. With his extensive Muggle background, Wade figured he should be the one teaching the class—Professor Burbage made at least five factual errors during the lesson.
Of course, compared to other wizards, Professor Burbage was already a rare expert in Muggle affairs—and one who sympathized with non-magical people.
Arithmancy was a breeze. Wade's math skills far surpassed anyone else at Hogwarts. What most students found a dreadful headache was, for him, nothing more than a relaxing numbers game.
It seemed the professors had come to a prior agreement: with the exception of Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions, all other core subject teachers had made a rare exception—allowing Wade to skip classes where he had already mastered the material, so he could spend his time on more meaningful pursuits.
When Wade ran into Professor Snape in the corridor, Snape, though wearing his usual scowl, still took the time to explain why he couldn't grant Wade an exemption from attending Potions class:
"Potions is a discipline of great depth and rigor. There is no room for carelessness."
"It demands precision, diligence, and skill from its brewer. Every detail is critical—details are the key to a potion's success or failure."
"Even if you've brewed the same potion a thousand times, on the thousand and first time, you must still maintain full focus and approach it with the same concentration and reverence as your first attempt."
"So I will not allow any student to skip class without a valid reason." Snape concluded coldly with a gaze sharp as a blade. "You are no exception, Wade."
Wade: "...Understood, Professor."
Well, to be honest, he wasn't all that surprised… Not that Wade had ever planned on skipping Professor Snape's class anyway.
While most professors' lectures could be found in textbooks (and some sometimes even made minor mistakes), Snape was different.
He demanded strict discipline from his students, but he held himself to an even higher standard—every step of potion brewing was written out meticulously on the blackboard.
He even occasionally shared little tricks he had picked up over the years, like tiny gems hidden within the otherwise dry course.
However, aside from students like Hermione—who seemed determined to take notes down to the punctuation—most of Wade's classmates would barely read the first few lines before hurriedly starting their work.
They half-assed things here and there, and it took all their brain power just to correct their many small mistakes. They had no energy left to listen to whatever sharp remark the professor was making.
By the end, they would hand in a potion that was barely passable—if that.
During the first class, when the other students saw Wade enter, they were a little surprised, but quickly returned to normal and greeted him before turning their attention to the lesson.
Most didn't know what he had been through, and given Wade's usual aloof demeanor, no one was tactless enough to pry into his "family matters."
By lunchtime, Wade gave a brief explanation to Harry, the Weasley twins, and the few others who were in the know. None of them pressed for details—they were simply relieved that he had returned safely.
"Honestly, the Alliance members sound better than the Death Eaters my parents used to talk about," Fred said seriously as they walked together toward the Great Hall. "At least they don't force minors into endless slave labor."
George nodded. "Villains without any class are just common thugs."
"What about classy villains?" Harry asked.
George mimed puffing on a cigar, lowered his head slightly, and in a raspy voice said, "You may call me GODFATHER."
The boys all burst out laughing, recalling a Muggle movie they'd recently watched.
"Mr. Weasley."
Professor McGonagall's voice suddenly came from behind them, making George nearly jump out of his skin.
"Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall," the group chorused quickly.
McGonagall gave them a stern nod, then looked pointedly at the Weasley twins and said:
"Films may lend certain characters a fictional charm, but I hope you understand that violence and crime are wrong. True strength lies in intelligence, courage, and unwavering commitment to justice."
"Yes, Professor," the twins responded meekly, heads bowed.
Once McGonagall walked off toward the staff table, the two immediately turned on each other, shoving and blaming one another for not keeping an eye on their surroundings while joking around.
"Hey, kids!" Hagrid greeted them as he made his way over after lunch. Lowering his voice, he asked, "Do you lot have time tomorrow or the day after in the afternoon?"
He thought he was speaking quietly, but in truth, most of the surrounding students could hear him and couldn't help casting curious glances their way.
"Wednesday—I only have one Charms class in the afternoon," Harry said, then turned to the others. "What about you guys?"
Wade nodded. "Same."
He had originally planned to sit in on the sixth-year Transfiguration class that afternoon, but he could easily move that to Thursday instead.
Ever since a few professors had waived his written assignments, Wade's schedule this term had become far more flexible.
Michael and the others nodded as well. Among them, Wade and Hermione had the busiest timetables—everyone else had fewer classes.
"I have to write an essay," Hermione said in frustration. "And I still have a 325-page book to finish!"
"We don't have time either," George said helplessly. "Fred and I don't think the OWLs are anything to stress about, but the professors clearly disagree."
Fred's eyes lit up with hope as he looked at Hagrid and asked tentatively, "But Hagrid, if you could also exempt us from our essay, then..."
"Don't even dream about it—that's not happening," Hagrid waved his hand firmly.
"Last time I asked how to tell the difference between a hedgehog and a knarl, you two said to use their hair in alchemical products, and whichever one fails is the hedgehog—what kind of answer is that? Who would use such a roundabout method?"
The twins stuck out their tongues but didn't look the least bit remorseful.
They actually did know the proper way to tell the difference. They just happened to be experimenting with a new idea at the time, which involved using knarl hair.
Unfortunately, the shady supplier had sold them counterfeit materials, so they blurted out that answer on the spot.
Knarl hair has magical properties, whereas regular hedgehog hair does not—which technically is a valid distinction. Hagrid had been so thrown off that day he wasn't sure whether to mark them correct and nearly forgot how to continue the lesson.
Now, the Care of Magical Creatures professor waved them off grumpily and said, "You two better focus on revising! As for the rest of you... Come to my hut at 4 p.m. the day after tomorrow. Don't forget."
Hagrid blinked his deep brown eyes, wearing a "I have a secret but I can't tell you yet" expression, clearly in a great mood as he walked off.
The group exchanged glances, and Michael asked, "Harry, do you have any idea what this is about?"
"Nope. But I think…" Harry thought for a moment before adding, "We'd better bring some food with us that day—unless you're okay with having Hagrid's rock-hard biscuits for dinner."
With the meeting time and place agreed upon, they went back to another packed afternoon of classes.
Even though Wade was allowed to skip certain lessons, that didn't mean he wasn't studying—in fact, the schedule he set for himself was even more demanding than the original one.
After just one day back at school, Wade already felt like he had forgotten what a relaxing holiday was even like.
He also saw the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor again—Ryan Troka.
Compared to when they had met in Diagon Alley, Troka was dressed much more formally now, looking as if he could attend someone's funeral at any moment.
His expression carried the same stern seriousness as Professor McGonagall's, and he didn't seem easy to approach.
In class, the students were unusually quiet. Professor Troka happened to be teaching the very topic Abigail had planned to cover previously—Boggarts.
There was a weathered wooden chest placed in the classroom, and it thudded and shook as though a dozen energetic rabbits had been stuffed inside.
"There's a Boggart in here," Professor Troka said calmly. "I've heard you've already studied part of this subject, so I'll keep it brief."
"Write down the key points."
"Boggarts prefer dark, enclosed spaces. They have no fixed form and will turn into whatever you fear the most. The most important weapon against a Boggart is humor."
The sound of quills scratching filled the room.
After a short pause, Troka continued, "You need to picture something that makes it look ridiculous, and then use the Riddikulus charm. If you can laugh instead of scream, the Boggart will become disoriented."
"Of course, fake laughter won't fool it—most people can't laugh the first time they see a Boggart anyway."
"Now, take out your wands and repeat the incantation after me—Riddikulus!"
"Riddikulus!" the students echoed in practice.
"Very good." Professor Troka seemed like he was about to smile in approval, but in the end, only the corner of his mouth twitched.
With a casual wave of his wand, the desks and chairs shifted to the sides of the classroom, leaving a large open space in the center. He then motioned for the students to step back.
"Back up a bit—don't distract the Boggart. If it's confronted by too many people at once, it'll get confused and won't know what shape to take."
Professor Troka cleared his throat and said, "I'll need one student to demonstrate first…"
His gaze slowly swept across the room. Some students looked eager, while others quickly lowered their heads to avoid being chosen.
"Hmm… Miss Greengrass, please come forward."
Daphne Greengrass swallowed nervously and gripped her wand tightly as she cautiously stepped to the front.
"Are you ready?" Professor Troka asked.
Every part of Daphne's body was screaming, No! but Troka's intimidating seriousness left no room to object. She nodded anxiously.
"Then let's begin."
Professor Troka stepped back and flicked his wand from a distance. The chest sprang open with a snap.
A pale, bloated hand slammed against the edge of the chest.
After a moment of silence, a woman in a bloodstained white gown slowly began to crawl out. Her long, black hair hung in wet clumps like a mop, obscuring her face. Her limbs were twisted at unnatural angles as she crept toward Daphne, step by eerie step.
Daphne was frozen in fear, and the entire classroom fell so silent you could hear a pin drop.
Wade covered his forehead, unable to bear watching.
It was obvious now—though the Streaming Mirror had enriched the lives of wizards and broadened their horizons, it had also introduced this once-isolated community to the extremes of human horror born from imagination.
"Riddikulus, Miss Greengrass," Professor Troka reminded her when she failed to respond.
Daphne trembled all over, but instead of casting the spell, she threw her wand at the crawling "ghost woman," let out a shriek, and turned to flee!
The next person in the Boggart's line of sight was suddenly Pansy Parkinson.
Boggart tilted its head slightly to look at her, seemingly unsure of what to transform into. But Pansy also let out a blood-curdling scream and began stumbling backward—while pushing Blaise Zabini in front of her.
With a loud bang, the "ghost woman's" lower half transformed into something resembling a giant centipede, instantly making it even more terrifying. It even seemed to crawl faster now.
It hesitated for a split second, then lunged toward the crowd, causing the entire classroom to erupt into chaos and screaming.
It didn't matter what the students had feared most before—because right now, they all seemed to share a single, unified terror.
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⭐Harry Potter: Becoming a Study God (HP:BSG)- +235 Chapters
⭐MCU: Druid's Adventures (MCUDA)(⭐COMPLETE⭐) - Total Chapter 460
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