Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying-Chapter 550 - 173: Boggart (Part 2)

"What about villains with charisma?" Harry asked.

George made a gesture of puffing a cigar, then bowed his head slightly and said in a smoky voice, "You can call me ’FATHER’."

The boys burst out laughing, recalling a Muggle movie they had watched recently.

"Mr. Weasley."

Professor McGonagall’s voice suddenly came from behind, scaring George so much that he almost jumped up.

"Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall," several of them quickly greeted.

Professor McGonagall nodded sternly and looked at the Weasley twins, saying, "Movies might endow some characters with an illusory charm, but I hope you know that violence and crime are wrong behaviors. True strength comes from wisdom, courage, and a commitment to justice."

"Yes, Professor," the Weasley twins obediently lowered their heads and replied.

As Professor McGonagall walked towards the teachers’ table, the two of them nudged and blamed each other for not paying attention to their surroundings when they spoke.

"Hey, kids!" As he spoke, Hagrid, having finished his meal, came around, lowering his voice to ask, "Which afternoon are you free tomorrow or the day after?"

He thought he had lowered his voice enough, but almost all the students around heard him and couldn’t help showing curiosity.

"Wednesday, I only have one Spell class in the afternoon," Harry said, then asked the others, "What about you?"

Vid nodded, "Same here."

Although he originally planned to attend the sixth-year Transfiguration class that afternoon, he could reschedule it to Thursday.

Since a few professors waived his paper assignments, Vid’s schedule this semester had become much more flexible.

Michael and the others also nodded. Among them, Vid and Hermione were the busiest, while the others had significantly fewer classes.

"I have to write papers," Hermione said with a troubled expression, "I also have a 325-page book to read!"

"We don’t have time any day," George said helplessly, "Even though Fred and I think there’s no need to worry too much about the OWLs exams, the professors clearly don’t think the same."

Fred’s eyes lit up with hope as he looked at Hagrid and tentatively said, "But Hagrid, if you could also waive our papers, then..."

"Don’t even dream about it. It’s not possible," Hagrid said firmly, waving his hand. "Last time, when I asked you how to distinguish between a hedgehog and a knarl, you said you could use their quills to make Alchemy Products, and if it failed, it was a hedgehog—does that even make sense? Who would use such a complicated method?"

The twins stuck out their tongues, but showed no sign of embarrassment.

In fact, they knew the correct way to distinguish them. They were just experimenting with a new idea at that time, using knarl quills, but the unscrupulous merchant had sold them adulterated products, so they blurted out the answer.

Knarl quills have magical properties, while ordinary hedgehogs don’t. That’s also a distinction between them. Hagrid was dumbfounded for a long time, not knowing whether he should consider their answer correct, almost forgetting how to continue the class.

At this moment, the Care of Magical Creatures professor waved his hand impatiently and said, "You two should focus on reviewing your lessons! As for the rest of you... come to my hut at four o’clock the day after tomorrow. Don’t forget."

Hagrid blinked his deep brown eyes, with a look of "I have a secret but can’t tell it yet," and left in a good mood.

The group exchanged glances, and Michael asked, "Harry, do you know what’s going on?"

"No idea. But I think..." Harry thought for a moment and said, "It’s probably best to bring some food that day unless you want Hagrid’s special rock cakes for dinner."

Having agreed on the time and place to meet, they continued with their lessons for the afternoon.

Even though Vid was allowed to skip some classes, it didn’t mean he didn’t have to study. In fact, he had arranged a schedule for himself that was even fuller than the original timetable.

Returning to school, even after just one day, he felt like he had forgotten what a leisurely holiday looked like.

Vid also met the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Ryan Troka.

His outfit was much more formal than the way he had dressed in Diagon Alley before, as if he could attend someone’s funeral at any moment. His expression was as stern as Professor McGonagall’s, looking rather unapproachable.

In class, the students were very quiet. Professor Troka was teaching a lesson that Abigail had planned to cover on Boggarts.

In the classroom, there sat a battered wooden box, from which banging sounds emanated, as if it contained a dozen lively rabbits.

"There’s a Boggart in here."

Professor Troka said in a calm tone, "I heard you have covered part of this topic before, so I’ll keep it brief."

"Note down the key points I mention."

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces. They have no definite shape but turn into what people fear the most. When facing a Boggart, the most important thing is humor."

The classroom filled with the sound of scribbling pens.

Professor Troka paused for a moment, then continued, "You need to imagine a scene that makes it ridiculous, and then use the Ridikulus spell. If you can laugh instead of scream, the Boggart will be at a loss."

"Of course, a fake laugh won’t fool it — although most people don’t manage to laugh on their first sight of a Boggart."

"Alright, take out your wands and practice the spell with me again — Ridikulus!"

"Ridikulus!" The students practiced along with him.

"Very good." Professor Troka seemed to want to smile approvingly, but in the end, only twitched the corner of his mouth.

He casually waved his magic wand, shifting tables and chairs to the sides of the classroom, leaving a large open space in the middle, and asked the students to step back.

"Step back, so as not to confuse the Boggart. It can be bewildered by multiple people, uncertain of what to become."

Professor Troka cleared his throat and said, "I need a student to demonstrate first..."

His gaze wandered slowly around the classroom. Some students were eager to try, while others quickly lowered their heads to avoid eye contact.

"Hmm... Miss Gringotts, please come forward." Professor Troka said.

Daphne Greengrass swallowed hard, clutching her wand and gingerly made her way to the front.

"Are you ready?" Professor Troka asked.

Every fiber of Daphne screamed "No!" but the professor’s sternness made her timidly nod.

"Then let’s begin!"

Professor Troka also stepped back a bit before waving his magic wand at a distance, causing the lid of the wooden box to spring open instantly.

A pale, bloated hand clamped onto the edge of the box with a "bang".

After a brief silence, a woman dressed in a blood-soaked white gown slowly crawled out of the box, her long black hair draping wetly like a mop over her face, her limbs contorted in an awkward manner as she crawled towards Daphne.

Daphne was terrified, and the entire classroom fell silent, so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.

Vid couldn’t bear to watch and covered his face.

It’s evident that while the Flow Mirror had enriched the wizards’ lives and broadened their horizons, it had also exposed this secluded society to the extreme horrors of human imagination.

"Ridikulus, Miss Gringotts."

Seeing her not reacting, Professor Troka reminded her.

Daphne shuddered all over, instead of casting the spell she threw her wand at the crawling "ghost woman", screamed, and turned to run!

Facing the "ghost woman" now was Pansy Parkinson.

The Boggart slightly raised its head to stare at Pansy, seemingly undecided on what to transform into, when Pansy let out the same shriek and backed away while pushing Blaise Zabini forward.

With a "bang," the lower half of the "ghost woman" transformed grotesquely into something resembling a giant centipede, making it even more terrifying; its crawling seemed to become even faster.

Bewildered for a moment, it rapidly moved toward the crowd, turning the classroom into a sea of screams.

No matter what the students feared most before, now they seemed to have found a common object of terror.