The afternoon exams were Herbology, Astronomy, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and History of Magic.
But the afternoon session was the reverse of the morning one.
Practical first, then theory.
First up was Herbology. All they had to do was use a trowel to transplant a Bouncing Bulb into another pot in the greenhouse without damaging it; the more energetic and intact the Bouncing Bulb was after transplanting, the higher the score.
Next was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Quirrell called them into the classroom one by one to cast the Vermillious charm within a chaotic Magic Field he created.
This took a total of forty minutes, ten of which were spent walking from the castle to the greenhouses.
Then came the written exams. First-year Astronomy and History of Magic had no practical components.
After spending an hour finishing the relatively short papers for Herbology, Astronomy, and Defense Against the Dark Arts...
It was time for the grand finale, the very last exam—History of Magic.
The exam duration was one hour.
The proctor was Professor Binns, a ghost.
Basil found this ridiculous.
If Binns was proctoring, you could probably open a book and copy right under his nose, and he wouldn't react.
But sure enough, the school had thought of this.
Prefects were specially assigned to confiscate everything except their wands, anti-cheating quills, and ink.
"This exam paper was absurd! Asking who invented the Self-Stirring Cauldron instead of the much more important 'Werewolf Code of Conduct of 1637' or the history of the Goblin Rebellions," Hermione complained, tilting her head and leaning close to Basil in the sunlight outside the castle after the History of Magic exam.
In this hot weather, Basil's body temperature was extremely low, making Ron eye him enviously, wanting to lean in like Hermione.
The surrounding crowd, who had also finished their exams and walked out of the castle toward the cooler shade of trees or the lake, felt the same way. They were even more attracted by Basil's bearing and appearance.
But under the gaze of Basil's terrifying yet beautiful golden beast eyes, Ron and the others subconsciously kept their distance.
Thus, Basil enjoyed some peace and quiet, leisurely walking down the slope to the lake and plopping down under a tree.
Over there, the Giant Squid was basking in the warm shallows, while the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were gently poking its tentacles.
"Haha, is that the squid that rescued poor little Draco from the water?" Ron pointed at the squid and laughed.
He still wasn't willing to let go of any chance to mock Draco Malfoy, even if the person wasn't there.
Ron exhaled happily, stretching his limbs out on the grass.
"My dad," Harry became melancholy again, "when I asked the portraits about my parents' story, one portrait said that when my mom was fifteen, her answer to my dad's invitation was: 'I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the Giant Squid.'"
However, the next second, Harry clutched his forehead.
"Ouch, it hurts!"
"What's wrong? Last time it was like this was when school just started. It's been almost a year!"
Harry was both annoyed and puzzled.
"Could it be—" Ron stood up, gasping.
He looked toward the third floor of the castle, in the direction of the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.
"Voldemort's curse is acting up?"
Basil's eyes narrowed into slits. In his vision, Quirrell was grading papers like a normal professor.
Pale, coughing occasionally, but still diligently doing his job.
Anyone seeing this would think he was a good teacher.
But Basil wasn't someone unaware of the inside story.
Quirrell should be going to steal the Philosopher's Stone.
Also, a feeling like the calm before a storm began to surface in Basil's heart.
Besides the golden eyes, dragon scales began to emerge under his skin.
Did something intend to invade his territory?
The magnetic fields of the castle, Hogsmeade Village, and London—all belonging to Basil—resonated with him.
Basil tried his best to suppress it, but could only limit the manifestation to the castle.
A phantom of a majestic, beautiful red dragon appeared above the castle, roaring as if offended.
The school motto of Hogwarts instantly surfaced in the minds of students, professors, and ghosts who saw this: Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus (Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon).
Then came a rustling sound from the Forbidden Forest, the sound of something crawling out.
The sound grew louder, eventually turning into a loud clicking noise.
"What is that?"
"Spiders!"
"No, Acromantulas!"
It was a huge swarm of spiders!
Each one was the size of a carthorse, with eight wondrously long, hairy legs, a pair of gleaming black pincers, and eight eyes glowing red.
The screams and fear of the students excited them greatly; they clicked their pincers, making a cacophony of sound.
A black tide surged toward them!
Gems: 60,413.463 (+25,000)
The sound of increasing Gems rang out, but at this moment, it couldn't bring a smile to Basil's face.
The timeline had shifted!
And it was counted on him? When did this happen?
Why the Forbidden Forest, of all places? The place he couldn't monitor.
And 25,000 Gems... what kind of development caused such a huge change?
Regardless, Voldemort cannot resurrect now.
With a thought from Basil, far away in Diagon Alley, London, a red stone suddenly appeared in his Gringotts vault.
Not counting as a life form, Riddle, who was in the Chamber of Secrets, also appeared where the stone should have been.
Basil looked around.
Dark red turbid currents swirled, and [Dragon Knight] manifested.
The grounds were in chaos.
Fortunately, the first-year students, who didn't know much magic, had just finished their exams and weren't far from the castle.
They had enough time to retreat.
The rest were older students.
They hadn't entered society yet; they were at the age where their knowledge was freshest and they knew the most spells in their lives.
"Protego!"
"Protego Totalum!"
"Diffindo!"
"Impedimenta!"
"Reducto!"
Shield Charms, hexes, and curses poured from their wands.
Fred and George roared, jumped out of the lake, and joined the battle barefoot.
"Spiders! Spiders!" Ron's face was pale, cold sweat dripping continuously.
But like Harry and Hermione, he drew his wand.
Not wanting to be outdone, he shot beams of light at the spiders.
Seamus was creating explosions among the spiders, leaving behind severed limbs and green blood.
"Haha, who said my talent for explosions was useless!"
"Hah!" Neville picked up a wooden stick and, protected by a Shield Charm, swung it.
Repelling the attacking giant spiders one by one. His technique became proficient in the process, always hitting the spiders' vulnerable abdomens and leg joints perfectly. Like a highly skilled knight.
"Now, I deserve the title you gave me, Basil!"
On the Friends List, the pre-made Echo on Neville's avatar began to flash with a golden border.
Turning from Blue to Gold.
The number of Knights on the [Dark Lord's Youth · Knight Commander] Echo changed to 2.
In Neville's data on the Friends List, the word "Awakened" appeared after the [Swordsmanship Mastery] talent.
Basil didn't rush into the battlefield.
First, he was a bit surprised. Reaching Gold-level intimacy without creating an Echo fit the definition of a Knight for the [Dark Lord's Youth · Knight Commander] Echo.
And the first to reach Gold was actually Neville.
Not Harry or Ron.
Neville's intimacy had stayed at Blue because of his inferiority complex.
He thought he wasn't worthy of Basil's words: "You are the true hero."
Second, he was a bit worried Hagrid would appear now.
So, he glanced at the hut.
At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, no spiders approached it.
"Great, Hagrid is in the suitcase and hasn't noticed."
Basil whispered.
If Hagrid found out, he would probably throw himself into the spider swarm, yelling not to hurt them, Aragog, and so on.
Although spider pincers couldn't pierce Hagrid's skin, the students' spells might accidentally hurt him.
"Now, I can rest assured."
Basil leaped slightly, jumping into the swarm of spiders.
No longer suppressing the fighting intent in his heart. Riddle was right; [Dragon Knight] did influence him on a spiritual level.
But this time, he liked the influence.
A fiery red tornado surged from the tip of his strange wand, incinerating the approaching spiders one by one, bypassing students, grass, and trees.
At this moment, Basil was like the Lord of Fire. The flames that could melt heaven and earth restrained all their violence in front of him, targeting only the enemy.
With his addition, the pressure on the students, whose arms were getting sore from waving wands, was greatly reduced.
They subconsciously began to follow Basil's rhythm in attacking and defending.
No longer fighting individually.
Like a disciplined army.