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[HP] 55: Classes Are Still as Unchallenging as Ever
🕑 Added 2025-07-26 08:53:10 +0000 UTCThat night, the rest of Louis’s dormmates finally returned to their room—looking reluctant, to say the least.
This might have been the first time the entire dorm was present at once, but everyone looked uneasy.
Especially Draco Malfoy—still half-traumatized from the fright earlier that afternoon and now forced to sleep here again. It was a full-body rejection, physical and mental.
If this continued, he might genuinely develop some kind of psychological disorder.
Louis, however, lay in bed with his eyes closed, quietly resting. He had no interest in his roommates’ mental health.
The Concentrated Spirit-Form Mutagen was indeed powerful—but it had also left him utterly drained. That fatigue lingered all the way into the next morning.
In a rare occurrence, Louis actually overslept—a nearly impossible event for someone with such a strict internal clock.
As for Fafnir, the little guy was still lying on his back in the cage, fast asleep, probably because the gene enhancement serum was still working its magic. He looked like he’d straight-up died.
Louis didn’t bother with him. He groggily cleaned himself up and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast.
The exhaustion from spiritual reinforcement wasn’t something he could overcome by sheer will, but he didn’t allow it to make him late either. Still composed and unhurried, he walked into the Charms classroom.
Charms was taught by Professor Filius Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw House—a brilliant and powerful wizard with goblin ancestry, a former Dueling Champion, and a specialist in casting technique and magical research.
Not that any of this mattered to Louis.
The class was boring to him. All he had to do was memorize Professor Flitwick’s demonstration movements, then activate the Rooster Talisman to make a feather float.
In fact, he didn’t even need the Rooster Talisman.
His nearly tangible spiritual force was enough to make the feather levitate on its own.
Or he could just use an invisible Magic Hand.
Either way, Louis had more than enough ways to fool everyone.
“Look at that—Mr. Wilson has done it! Excellent form, and the feather is floating with perfect stability. Ten points to Slytherin!”
Professor Flitwick was overjoyed to witness such a "Charms prodigy" in his class.
> [You used non-magical power to make others believe you were casting magic.]
> [You deceived 19 underage wizards and one spellcasting- and combat-savvy goblin wizard.]
> [Minor Deception]
> [Trick Points Gained: 2400]
> [Current Total: 16,920]
Louis accepted the praise without batting an eye—but sadly, it didn’t earn him an exemption from homework.
Fortunately, most Hogwarts classes were held once a week, and homework was only checked in the following class, giving students plenty of time to complete assignments.
Unless, of course, you were the kind of person who procrastinated until the last day. In which case, you were screwed.
After class, Louis passed by the giant clock tower and checked the time. After a moment of thought, he began heading outside the castle.
He was planning to visit Hagrid, hoping to ask for some wood and carving tools.
Though not particularly close with Hagrid, Louis knew the man was a warm-hearted soul. Because of his size and appearance, Hagrid was often misunderstood. A little kindness went a long way with him—and could yield some rather generous returns.
All in all, Hagrid was a friend worth keeping.
Hagrid’s hut sat on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, northeast of the castle. A rough dirt trail with stone steps led directly there from the back of the castle.
When Louis arrived, Hagrid was tending to a pumpkin patch outside his hut. The pumpkins were massive and thriving.
His large boarhound, Fang, was the first to sense the approaching stranger. He barked in Louis’s direction, then nervously shrank back behind Hagrid, too timid to approach.
Seeing Fang’s behavior, Hagrid looked up—and spotted Louis on the path.
“Good afternoon, Louis!” Hagrid waved enthusiastically, clearly pleased. “How’re you liking Hogwarts so far?”
“Not bad. The students are well-behaved, and the professors are all friendly,” Louis replied with a polite smile.
Hagrid didn’t quite grasp what “well-behaved” meant in this context, but he didn’t press. He unfastened his apron, which looked more like a ship’s sail.
“Come in and have some tea!” he called cheerfully. “You’re the first student who’s ever come to visit.”
Louis nodded and followed Hagrid into the hut.
Fang, sensing Louis wasn’t a threat, waddled up to sniff him curiously.
Louis gently patted his head. Thanks to his Magical Creature Tamer title, the result was immediate—timid Fang instantly took a liking to him and began playing around happily.
“Well I’ll be—Fang doesn’t usually take to strangers so quickly,” Hagrid said in surprise as he opened the door and watched Fang cling to Louis.
“I’ve always had a way with animals,” Louis said casually.
“Is that so? That’s a fine gift to have! Once you get to third year, you should consider taking Care of Magical Creatures with Professor Sylvanus Kettleburn. Real scholarly wizard, he is,” Hagrid said, pouring coarse tea leaves into a mug the size of Louis’s head and topping it with hot water.
“Sure, I’ll consider it,” Louis replied offhandedly.
In truth, he had no intention of picking that class—because by third year, Hagrid himself would become the professor.
Hagrid made a great friend, but not such a great teacher. He didn’t quite understand the difference between his own durability and a normal student’s.
Taking his class meant braving dangers measured by Hagrid’s own monstrous standards. While Louis wasn’t afraid of danger, he hated unpredictable messes—and Hagrid’s classes were always full of those.
“I saw a pumpkin patch outside,” Louis said, changing the subject. “Are those for Halloween?”
“Yup! They’re not quite ready yet, but by Halloween they’ll be massive—more than enough for the school,” Hagrid grinned as he settled into the couch. “By the way, I didn’t catch which House you ended up in—Hufflepuff? Gryffindor? Maybe Ravenclaw?”
“Why not Slytherin?” Louis lifted the enormous tea mug, silently wondering how Hagrid thought an eleven-year-old was supposed to handle something this big.
“Pfft, come on—Slytherin doesn’t like Muggle-borns,” Hagrid chuckled.
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