"What the fuck! How are there mosquitoes in this weather?!" Victor exclaimed, throwing off his blankets in a huff. He wished he had bought a mosquito net from a supermarket and brought it with him.
But luckily, he had anticipated that something like this might happen before coming to Hogwarts. After all, a person like him always plans ahead when traveling far from home.
Victor reached into the empty air, took out a mosquito coil he had prepared, and lit it. Before long, a faint floral scent filled the entire Ravenclaw boys' dormitory.
Victor had specially made the mosquito coils; who would buy those stinky, unpleasant-smelling ones from a supermarket?
After getting rid of the mosquitoes, Victor tucked himself back into his blankets, hugged his big bolster, and slowly drifted off to sleep.
Finally, some peace and quiet… zzz...
The moon, a luminous pearl, emerged from behind the thick clouds, casting its gentle glow over the ancient spires of Hogwarts. Its light kissed the surface of the Black Lake, causing it to shimmer and dance with the stars.
In this silver-spun reflection, creatures of the night frolicked and played, their silent movements a soft lullaby to the sleeping world. They seemed to be whispering a final wish of peace to all, as the world of magic settled into a quiet, dreamy slumber.
————
The next morning, the sun rose, and it was a bright and sunny day. It was the first day of the new school year at Hogwarts. Inside the Ravenclaw dormitory, a piercing alarm clock went off, trying to wake Victor from his sleep.
Bloop! Bloop! Bloop!
Bloop! Bloop! Bloop!
Click!
Victor instinctively silenced the snail-shaped alarm clock on his bedside table. His body was awake, but his mind was not.
This Den Den Mushi-shaped alarm clock was custom-made by Victor in Diagon Alley.
Since no electronic devices could be used at Hogwarts, the alarm clock could only wake people up at a set time; it couldn't tell time.
After a while, Victor slowly and with great difficulty climbed out of bed. He stretched and rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the lingering sleepiness. Then, on autopilot, he slowly went to the lavatory to wash up, and then staggered back to his room to change his clothes.
In the Great Hall, many people saw an impressive sight: a person eating breakfast with his eyes closed, still asleep. Victor only fully woke up when he put a glob of a white, mashed substance into his mouth.
"Bleaugh! Who gave me mashed potatoes?!"
A familiar taste hit his nose, and Victor's mind became instantly clear.
"Why am I still eating mashed potatoes for breakfast even though I'm not at home?!" Victor gulped down a mouthful of milk to wash away the lingering taste of mashed potatoes. He looked around and noticed everyone in the Great Hall was looking at him with a strange expression.
Why aren't they eating breakfast? Why are they all looking at me?
Victor scratched his head.
Just then, a familiar figure ran over and sat down opposite Victor.
"Good morning, Victor!"
"Good morning, Hermione!" Victor replied, looking at the large book she was holding, which was at least twice the size of his face. "Why are you carrying such a big book? Isn't it heavy?"
"No, I just want to read more books," Hermione said. "I plan to finish this book this week. I read for over an hour last night."
Is she already being this competitive on the first day of school? Victor's eye twitched slightly. He couldn't help but say, "Hermione, you can't study like this. You need to take breaks. What's the point of memorizing so much if you don't understand the content?"
"But if I don't read more books when I have the time, I'll fall behind everyone else!" Hermione replied with a stubborn and slightly hurt look.
When he heard that, Victor immediately understood what was on the young witch's mind. Hermione probably thought that, as she came from a Muggle family, her magical foundation was far behind that of wizard-born children.
"Hermione, do you think that wizard parents start teaching their children magic from a young age?"
"Isn't that obvious?" Hermione said, looking surprised. She thought it was a given.
"Of course not!" Victor sighed, tapped the table, and stood up. "Let me ask you, do you know what a Squib is?"
"Yes, they're people with at least one wizard parent who can't use magic," Hermione said, nodding.
"Exactly! But do you know why Squibs exist? If it were purely about genetics, with both parents being wizards, Squibs shouldn't exist. And you shouldn't be here right now!"
"That's because a person's ability to become a wizard isn't about genetics; it's about a magical outburst. Regardless of whether a child comes from a wizarding or Muggle family, they must experience a magical outburst before they can use magic." Victor and Hermione left the Great Hall, talking as they walked.
"What's the difference?" Hermione asked.
"In reality, there is no difference. The timing of a magical outburst is unpredictable, even for wizarding families. Before it happens, you can't expect a child to learn how to write without a pencil. What's more, even if a child has a magical outburst at a very young age, their parents still won't teach them how to use magic."
"Why?" Hermione asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Because children don't have the mature thoughts and will to control the power of magic. Do you know what an immature child would do with magic?"
"You've probably seen children who are too weak to fight back against bullies. Now, think about what would happen if that child knew magic? Power can control people, Hermione. You will learn that slowly in the future." Victor spoke a lot, but this was all a summary of his past experiences.
In Earth Land, it wasn't just children; countless adult wizards had fallen into darkness after succumbing to the power of magic. They would do anything to get stronger, losing their humanity and themselves in the process.
"Of course, while you can't teach magic to a child, you can teach them the theory behind it," Victor added. "Potions don't require magic, but the subject itself is very complex and requires a high level of dedication. Without a Potions Master teaching you from a young age, you can't learn it."
"Oh, I see…"
After Victor's explanation, Hermione's anxiety began to ease. Without realizing it, the two had talked all the way to a classroom. They were a bit early, so there were only a few students in the classroom, all of whom were napping, with one person casually flipping through a book.
One thing was particularly eye-catching: a tabby cat with square spectacle marks on its face was sitting on the teacher's desk, watching them.
Hermione was a cat person, so when she saw the tabby cat, her desire to pet it grew.
Victor saw her walk toward the desk and instantly felt a chill up his spine. He immediately ran over and pulled her back by her collar.
"What are you doing?!" Hermione turned around, looking angry. But Victor ignored her. He simply bowed slightly to the tabby cat and said, "Good morning, Professor McGonagall!"
The tabby cat jumped off the desk and, to Hermione's shock, transformed back into a person.
"Good morning, Mr. Dreyar, Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall was as stern as ever. Hermione was still frozen in place from shock, so Victor patted her head hard.
"Ah! Oh! Good morning, Professor McGonagall!" Hermione finally snapped out of it and quickly greeted her. Oh my god! I almost petted Professor McGonagall! Hermione's face was beet-red as she looked down in embarrassment.
"I'm curious, Mr. Dreyar, how did you discover my identity?" Professor McGonagall asked, her gaze fixed on Victor. A first-year student shouldn't have been able to spot an Animagus in their animal form.
"You're one of the registered Animagi in the Ministry of Magic. I'm aware of that, and I've also seen a picture of your Animagus form in Transfiguration Today magazine," Victor said honestly. Otherwise, with so many cats at Hogwarts, how could anyone know which one was Professor McGonagall?
Professor McGonagall nodded at Victor's answer, but then said, "Mr. Dreyar, if you're here to drop off Miss Granger, you can return to your own classroom. I don't think your head of house would want a student to be late on the first day of school, especially a Ravenclaw."
"Wait, isn't my first class Transfiguration?! Oh, I forgot to check my schedule!" Victor now remembered that he had gone straight to bed last night and had only woken up in the Great Hall this morning, so he had no idea what his classes were. Hermione had just led him to the Transfiguration classroom.
"Haha, my apologies, Professor McGonagall. Do you know where my classroom is?" Victor asked with an awkward smile.
"It's on the fourth floor. You'd better hurry if you don't want to be late." Professor McGonagall shook her head exasperatedly.
"Then I'll be going. Thank you, Professor McGonagall! And Hermione, we'll talk later!" With that, Victor turned and ran out of the Transfiguration classroom.
When he got outside, he saw that the stairs on each floor were moving at random, so he thought for a moment, waved his wand in front of him, and flew up through the middle of the staircase.
The students from the first to the fourth floor were stunned. Why take the stairs when you can fly? Especially such troublesome ones!
"Excuse me, where is the Charms classroom?" Victor flew up to the fourth floor, patted a student on the shoulder, and asked. The student didn't say anything; he just pointed in a direction, dumbfounded.
"Thank you," Victor said, walking toward the classroom, unaware that his actions had already caused a huge commotion among the students.
"That student just flew up without a broom!"
"How did he do that? Was it an alchemical item?"
"He looks kind of handsome. Which house is he in?"
Their eyes had turned into red hearts.