11-15

Chapter 11: Making Harry Dress Up as a Girl?

“You truly are surprising,” Fred said, his face exaggeratedly amused. “Night roaming on your first day at Hogwarts? You’re really not taking school rules seriously, are you?”

“How did you know I was out at night?” Luke asked, casting a sidelong glance at the twins.

“We saw you with our own eyes,” George chimed in. “We followed you while you wandered almost the entire castle. At least you heeded the Headmaster’s warning and avoided the fourth floor.”

“Why did you circle the third floor eleven times? Is there something special there?”

Luke’s face turned red. The truth was...he got lost.

The Hogwarts staircases, ever-shifting like scenes from a movie, had led him astray. As the twins had noted, he indeed circled the third floor eleven times.

“Well, if you don’t want to explain, we won’t press you.” Fred patted Harry’s shoulder with a grin. “We’re off to eat. If you three need anything, just let us know.”

Luke decided not to mention the Marauder’s Map yet—better to wait until he was more familiar with the twins.

After the twins left, Harry, who had been holding back, couldn’t wait any longer. “So, Luke, tell us your secret!”

“I’ll teach you, but you’ll have to practice spells with me,” Luke said, seeing an opportunity. His skill description mentioned that combat practice helped him gain proficiency faster, so why not start with his friends?

“No problem,” the two eagerly agreed.

“It’s actually simple.” Luke picked up a chickpea from his plate, holding it in front of them. “Take Transfiguration as an example. You must focus entirely on imagining—say you want to turn this into a white cube. Visualize the cube’s shape perfectly in your mind, and when it’s crystal clear... Vera Verto!”

With a flick of Luke’s wand, the chickpea transformed into a small, white, perfectly cubical block.

“See? That’s how it’s done. Whatever spell you’re casting, the most important thing is to believe in your magic.” Seeing his friends deep in thought, Luke continued, “Think about it—if you doubt the magic will work, how can you expect the spell to succeed?”

“I’ll give it another go.” Ron, inspired, pulled out the old wand he had inherited from Charlie. He closed his eyes, concentrated, and pointed it at a fork. “Vera Verto!”

A miracle happened—the fork turned into a half-knife. While the four prongs remained, the rest resembled a knife from the dining table.

This was already great progress. It wasn’t that Ron lacked talent; it was that the wand he used wasn’t truly his. As Ollivander had said, “The wand chooses the wizard.” Ron and Charlie were so different in temperament that their compatibility was minimal.

Still, achieving even partial success showed Ron’s natural ability.

Poverty, Luke thought, was holding Ron back. He mused about getting Ron a proper set of gear someday, though he’d need a perfect excuse so as not to hurt Ron’s pride.

“Wow!” Harry marveled at the half-knife. “I can’t believe you managed that so quickly.”

“Too bad your wand isn’t great, Ron, or you’d have nailed it,” Harry added.

Ron’s shoulders slumped slightly, but Luke quickly rekindled his spirits.

“Think about it,” Luke said with a grin. “If you can perform spells so well with this mismatched wand, imagine what you’ll achieve with one perfectly suited to you!”

“You’re right, Luke.” Ron clenched his fists and smiled. “With your guidance, I’ll master these spells—I’m sure of it!”

“Your effort is what matters most,” Luke said, reverting the chickpea and popping it into his mouth. “But I’m not teaching you my tips for free—you’ll have to practice spells with me often.”

“Deal!” they agreed in unison.

Luke smirked. If Diana had been there, she’d know he was up to no good. But poor Harry and Ron, unaware, just thought he was happy.

“Friday morning, we’ve got two Potions classes,” Luke said, his eyes sparkling. “Our Head of House has a reputation for being strict. And Harry, you’ve already crossed Malfoy on the train. From what I’ve heard, the Malfoys are close with Professor Snape. You might get singled out.”

Harry’s indifferent expression shifted slightly. He didn’t care about Snape’s bias, but the mention of Gryffindor losing points struck a nerve.

“What if he deducts house points in front of everyone?” Luke pressed. “How would your classmates see you then?”

Harry, who had a budding sense of pride, began to panic. “What should I do?” he whispered anxiously.

“Learn Potions well,” Luke replied firmly.

Luke wasn’t overly concerned. He simply wanted to see the flustered Snape’s reaction if Harry excelled.

Although...making Harry cross-dress for Potions class sounded like a fun idea. How to persuade him, though? Perhaps the twins could help set a trap? Surely Harry wouldn’t hold it against him...right?

---

After lunch, they attended Herbology. As it was the first class of the term, Professor Sprout kept things light, sharing humorous stories about Herbology. Luke noticed that while Neville had been drowsy in Transfiguration, he was alert and enthusiastic in Herbology, even earning two points for Gryffindor.

Some talents were simply innate.

---

After dinner, Luke returned to the Slytherin common room to retrieve a copy of Basic Spellcasting Techniques. Opening the door, he saw an older student sitting on the lounge chair with a constipated look, flanked by three others.

Luke paid them little attention, figuring it was just a senior meeting. He leisurely made his way to his dorm.

“Look at this, a Mudblood with no manners,” the senior sneered. “Flint, you’ve disgraced Slytherin by losing to someone like him.”

Marcus Flint flinched, his large teeth chattering as he nodded and bowed to the older student, clearly trying to appease someone far above his rank.

(To be continued)

*Chapter 12: The Duel*

Luke slid his hand into his pocket, gripping his wand tightly. On the surface, he appeared calm and indifferent, walking forward without a care.

“Hey, stop right there. I’m talking to you, Mudblood,” a senior student called out to Luke.

“Are you addressing me?” Luke turned gracefully, casually casting Eye of Recognition.

???, Level 20 Wizard.

*Talents:* Charms (6), Potions (8), Transfiguration (6), Dark Arts (10), Defense Against the Dark Arts (7), Flying (8), Herbology (4).

“Who else could I be talking to? Is there another Mudblood in Slytherin?”

The senior's tone dripped with disdain, his expression twisted in an exaggerated mockery. He reminded Luke of the bullies he had encountered in his previous life—loud and obnoxious, but ultimately all bark and no bite.

“I’m not a doctor, but if you’re constipated, I suggest visiting Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing, my dear senior,” Luke said with a slight bow, his smile poised and confident.

“Enough! You filthy, lowly maggot!” The senior, realizing the younger student was mocking him, roared in fury. “I’ll break your arm and shove it down your throat! You’ll regret ever being born!”

“Honestly, my dear senior, your logic is quite flawed,” Luke replied leisurely. “First, it’s physically impossible to fit an arm into a mouth. Second, have you considered the possibility that sharing a house with someone like you might be a disgrace for everyone involved? Oh, but don’t rush to conclusions—this is merely my speculation.”

“You Mudblood—how dare you look down on me?” The senior’s face turned red, resembling an enraged bull.

“No, no, you misunderstand,” Luke said with a gentle smile, glancing around. “What I mean is, I look down on all of you.”

The senior’s cronies scowled and prepared to attack, but the senior held them back, stepping forward himself.

“A first-year Mudblood dares to act so brazenly…” He pulled out his wand. “Draw your wand. I, Samir Lestrange, seventh-year, challenge you to a duel!”

“Ah, you’re aware you’re a seventh-year,” Luke said, chuckling softly as he drew his wand. “This is what ‘pureblood supremacy’ looks like? As your beloved junior, I must remind you: whether you win or lose, a seventh-year challenging a first-year is shameful.”

“Enough talk. Let’s begin.”

Samir prepared for combat, confident that his superior experience would secure his victory.

“You should really learn proper etiquette,” Luke remarked, his tone light and airy. “Even I, a first-year, know that dueling requires a bow first.”

“You Mudblood—you think you deserve my bow—”

Before Samir could finish, he felt an irresistible force pressing down on his back, forcing him into a bow. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t straighten up. Raising his head with difficulty, he met Luke’ deep, unfathomable gaze.

“There, one bow is enough,” Luke said, releasing the Wizard’s Hand spell.

Samir straightened up, seething with rage, but he didn’t think twice about Luke’ impressive magic. His sole focus was on teaching the first-year a lesson.

“Expelliarmus!”

Samir barely reacted before his wand spun out of his hand and landed in Luke’ grasp.

“You have gained 10 points in Disarming Charm proficiency.”  

“You’ve lost, senior,” Luke said with a polite smile, offering a slight bow. “Thank you for letting me strike first. Truly, you are a model Slytherin student.”

Blinded by fury, Samir charged at Luke like a raging bull.

“Levicorpus!”

Samir was suddenly hoisted into the air, dangling upside down. Luke made sure he rotated slowly, like a duck roasting over a fire.

Even suspended, Samir cursed Luke and called for his cronies to attack.

One of them couldn’t hold back and launched a barrage of curses at Luke. Without turning, Luke casually waved his wand, conjuring a pale blue shield that deflected all the spells.

“You have gained 1 point in Shield Charm proficiency.”  

“You have gained 1 point in Shield Charm proficiency.”  

Luke smirked subtly. Was this the best the Slytherin seniors could do? They weren’t much better than practice dummies.

“It’s a Shield Charm… and silent casting!” The crowd murmured in awe, their gazes filled with disbelief.

Draco Malfoy, standing among the spectators, looked immensely proud. He turned to his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, and boasted, “See that? That’s my friend! A Shield Charm—many adult wizards, even some Aurors, can’t pull it off! And he did it silently!”

“Langlock!”

In an unexpected move, Luke aimed the tongue-tying curse… at Samir’s backside.

“Relashio!”

This spell was aimed at Samir’s stomach.

Releasing the Levicorpus spell, Luke let Samir fall to the ground with a thud. Just as Samir attempted to rush him again, he doubled over in pain, clutching his abdomen.

“You… what did you do to me?” Samir stammered, face flushed as he ran toward the lavatory, only to return moments later, trembling and furious.

“Oh, sorry about that,” Luke said innocently. “The spell might have mistaken that part of you for your mouth… Apologies, but I’m just a first-year, you know—I don’t know the counter-spell.”

“You—!” Samir growled through gritted teeth. He glared at Luke, then turned to leave.

But Luke flicked his wand, suspending Samir upside down again and silencing him entirely.

“See, now you’re impatient,” Luke said, his tone calm yet firm. “This is just a small warning, dear senior. If you persist in being foolish, it won’t be this simple next time.”

Lowering Samir to the ground, Luke asked, “So, will you still call me a Mudblood?”

“You… you’re an exceptional wizard, Mr. Montbatten,” Samir stammered, forcing a pained smile. “Even Muggle-borns can be outstanding wizards. My apologies for being narrow-minded.”

Typical Slytherin wizards—they knew when to yield. Pureblood supremacy? They’d grovel to a half-blood Dark Lord if the power dynamics demanded it. Luke chuckled inwardly, maintaining an impassive demeanor as he patted Samir on the shoulder.

“Narrow-mindedness isn’t your fault. My father studied at Durmstrang.”

At those words, the crowd’s animosity dissipated, replaced with curious respect. Even Samir and his cronies looked at Luke differently.

(End of Chapter)  

*Chapter 13: Eating Sweets Helps Dopamine Secretion*

“Ah... then... why didn’t you say so earlier?” Samir immediately changed his tone. “I knew that—uh, that hat wouldn’t make a mistake. A wizard as remarkable as you must be pure-blooded—” He stopped abruptly when he noticed Luke’s amused gaze, his heart tightening. Hastily, he corrected himself, “If it’s you, even if you were Muggle-born, you’d still be extraordinary!”

“Enough flattery,” Luke said with a faint smile. “Within three days, you and your entourage, along with Marcus, will hand in a 500-word reflection to me. Understood?”

“Yes... yes... yes...” Samir stammered, nodding repeatedly. But after a moment of hesitation, he mustered the courage to ask, “Uh, Mr. Montbatten, what exactly is a reflection?”

“I’m not obligated to explain,” Luke replied, tapping Samir’s shoulder with his wand. “You just need to know that things won’t end well if I’m dissatisfied.”

With that, Luke turned and walked away, leaving Samir standing there, frozen for a long moment until a sharp abdominal pain jolted him back to reality. Clutching his stomach, he hurriedly called for his followers and rushed to the infirmary.

Neither Samir nor his followers dared harbor any thoughts of rebelling against Luke. After all, as someone in the crowd earlier had pointed out, casting a Shield Charm was a challenge even for many adult wizards. Yet here was a first-year student performing it nonverbally—it was as surreal as a first grader effortlessly solving advanced calculus problems.

If you encountered a peer who could do second-grade math, you might feel competitive. But faced with such an anomaly? Worship was the only sensible response.

And that’s precisely what happened.

Moreover, Luke came from a pure-blood family whose parents had graduated from Durmstrang. The Slytherin students were well aware that pure-blood families often possessed secret spells, and Durmstrang’s reputation was far from pleasant. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of any unknown curses.

Why didn’t he admit to being pure-blood from the start? Come on, he’s a duke with a system cheat—immediately backing down would be too humiliating. Besides, even if he had said so, who would have believed him? Now, with his strength established as superior to the top students in the house, his peers naturally thought, “He’s so strong; he has no reason to lie to us.”

Still, none of this was on Luke’s mind. After handling the complexities of student relations, all he wanted was to return to the Room of Requirement and happily practice spells.

After wandering through the castle for over an hour, he finally reached the eighth floor.

But an unexpected figure blocked his path.

“Ah... Headmaster Dumbledore, good evening,” Luke greeted nervously. After all, he was out past curfew.

“Ah, youth,” Dumbledore said with a playful twinkle in his eye. “When I was your age, I, too, loved wandering the castle at night.”

Luke hesitated. “You... don’t exactly look my age now.”

Dumbledore froze for a moment, then pulled out a cockroach-like candy and held it up. “Care for one? It’s a new product from Honeydukes. It may look like a cockroach, but it’s actually very tasty—quite sweet.”

As he spoke, he plucked off a candy “leg” and popped it into his mouth. For a brief moment, Luke thought the headmaster should be called “Old White-Kneed Tarantula” instead of “Old Honeybee.”

“Well, that sounds like diabetes waiting to happen,” Luke said confidently. “You should stop eating sweets and get a thorough checkup at the hospital.”

Dumbledore nearly choked on the candy.

“Thank you for your concern, Luke—may I call you that?”

“Of course, Headmaster.”

“I prefer to be called Professor Dumbledore.” With a flick of his wand, he produced a paper bag filled with candy. “Muggle science says eating sweets helps release dopamine, which makes you happier.”

Shouldn’t you be studying magic instead of dabbling in Muggle science, Headmaster?

“After a small disagreement with classmates, one’s mood tends to sour. Here, if you don’t mind an old man’s kindness.” He stuffed the bag into Luke’s arms, waved with a mischievous smile, and said, “Goodnight.”

Before Luke could refuse, Dumbledore walked away, heading back to his office.

Shaking his head, Luke couldn’t figure out what Dumbledore was up to. He decided not to dwell on it and stepped into the Room of Requirement.

For Dumbledore, this school held no secrets, and Luke saw no point in trying to hide from him.

Standing at the entrance, Luke reached into the bag and pulled out a candy. By moonlight, he saw the words “Sherbet Lemon” printed on it.

It was sherbet lemon.

In his previous life, many translations had mistakenly rendered it as “iced lemonade.” Yes, the password to the Hogwarts headmaster’s office was actually sherbet lemon. Many translations in languages like Portuguese and Danish also misinterpreted it as lemonade, though it wasn’t entirely the translators’ fault.

When others make the same mistake, the issue doesn’t feel as significant. That doesn’t absolve the mistake entirely, but perhaps it makes it... less glaring?

Luke unwrapped the candy and popped it into his mouth. The lemon flavor spread across his palate.

A little sour, mostly sweet—it was a delightful taste. To his surprise, it was a filled soft candy. As the outer layer melted, the tangy, sweet filling fizzed in his mouth like popping candy, though less intense. The texture was fantastic.

Setting the bag aside, he decided to practice spells for a while. When he needed a break, he’d enjoy another candy with some glacier water.

Constantly drinking water had become monotonous, after all.

Regardless of Dumbledore’s intentions, he had been a great help. Luke had never considered pairing his water with something sweet over the past month.

After some practice, things began to feel a bit dull. Unlike the Shield Charm, which still gained proficiency, the Disarming Charm stopped leveling up after reaching Tier 3 through training dummies.

“Seriously, the senior Slytherins are too weak,” Luke muttered, twirling his wand. “Harry and his friends aren’t skilled enough yet. It’s hard to find someone to duel with...”

While lost in thought, a sharp cry broke his reverie.

“Expelliarmus!”

Instinctively, Luke cast a Shield Charm in the direction of the voice.

“You have gained 50 Shield Charm proficiency points.”  

Startled, Luke looked toward the source. When he saw who it was, he was utterly shocked.

(To be continued)  

**Chapter 14: The Fawn and the Viper**   

Was she really the senior he’d met on the train?  

 Luke couldn't believe it. This was the first time he had seen the senior’s face clearly, and her stunning beauty left him momentarily breathless.  

 Luke had sharp eyes and noticed a single tear-shaped mole on her elegant face. Despite this minor imperfection, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen—across two lifetimes.  

 Her aura, however, was a bit on the chilly side.  

 He stood there in a daze, not because he was ogling her like some kind of creep, but because he was surprised by the identity of the voice’s owner.  

 "Senior? What are you doing here?"  

 Her response came in the form of a red spell.  

 It dawned on him that the incantation she had just uttered seemed to be more of a warning...  

 Without time to overthink, Luke quickly cast a Shield Charm to block her spell, earning another 50 points of proficiency.  

 Logically, dodging the spell would have been the easier choice, but Luke was determined to practice his Shield Charm, even if it meant taking risks.  

 And so, he found himself in a tough battle.  

 The senior’s spells came at him like there was no tomorrow—not just red ones, but purple, white, and black ones too, increasing in speed and intensity. Luke was giving it his all, scrambling to keep up for the sake of gaining skill proficiency. Finally, after one careless move, he suddenly felt his head spin and his feet leave the ground. The next moment, he was hanging upside down.  

 —Seriously, what is it with you Slytherins and your obsession with hanging people upside down?  

 From Luke’s upside-down perspective, he saw the senior walking toward him, step by step.  

 “Dodging spells would’ve been the smart choice, yet you chose the most foolish approach.” Her eyes were filled with pity, as if she were looking at a dim-witted troll. “Look at you now, like a little fawn caught in a trap.”  

 Luke: “...”   

What’s with her? Does her sharp tongue know no bounds?  

 “Speechless? Did I hit the mark?” she teased, tilting her head slightly. A strange light flickered in her pale green eyes. “Could it be that you’re a reverse Animagus—a little fawn transformed into a human?”  

 As she spoke, Luke saw her dramatically raise her gloved hand to cover her mouth, her starry eyes widening with mock disbelief.  

 She’s such a gorgeous girl... So why is her mouth so ruthless? Luke was baffled.  

 “*Liberacorpus!*” she cast the counterspell with a tone of genuine delight.  

 Luke landed on the ground with a thud.  

 “Senior, what are you doing here?” he asked again, brushing off the dust.  

 “The Room of Requirement has always been my place to practice spells,” she replied coolly. “The real question is, why are you following me? Sorting, meals, even nighttime—you’re everywhere. What’s next? Is your fawn-like nose so sharp that you can sniff out even the Room of Requirement?” Her eyes glinted with a dangerous light.   

“But... what is a ‘moose’?” Luke decided to feign ignorance of her taunts.  

 “*Deer.*”  

 “What?” Luke momentarily thought she was calling him “dear,” but he quickly realized she was correcting him about the animal.  

 Feigning confusion, he pressed on.  

 “*Deer!*” she snapped, narrowing her fox-like eyes, her tone growing colder.  

 “What?”   

“*Deer!* D-E-E-R!” she spelled out the word through gritted teeth.  

 “What? W-H-A-T?” Luke replied with a clueless expression, playing dumb.  

 “Is there something wrong with you?” she asked, her patience wearing thin.  

 “Shouldn’t I be asking that, my dear senior?” Luke replied, deliberately emphasizing the word “dear.” “We’ve only just met, and you’re already calling me that. Oh, by the way, ‘dear’ is spelled D-E-A-R...”  

 Her response was a black-purple curse that looked particularly nasty.  

 Now she’s really mad.   

Luke braced himself, dodging as much as possible. After five minutes of intense effort, his mana ran dry, and he was once again hoisted upside down by her spell.   

“Are you truly clueless, or are you just pretending?” Her voice was icy. “Or do you want to experience the joy of vomiting slugs?”  

 Suspended in the air, Luke decided to behave. He knew better than to provoke the formidable senior in front of him. Carefully, he replied, “I honestly thought you were calling me.”  

 “Name,” she demanded curtly.  

 “Luke Mountbatten,” he answered obediently. “And you, Senior?”  

 “Katherine Waller,” she replied haughtily. “Remember my name, little fawn. You may call me Miss Waller.”  

 “Got it, Miss Waller. Nice to meet you.” Despite being upside down, Luke extended his hand, sneaking in a quick *Eye of Identification* spell.  

 **Katherine Waller** *(a golden dragon symbol next to her name)*  
**Level:** ??? Wizard  
**Mana:** ???/???  
**Talents:** Charms (10), Potions (10), Transfiguration (10), Dark Arts (10), Defense Against the Dark Arts (18), Flying (1), Herbology (4).  
**Learned Spells:** Shield Charm (Level 8), Disarming Charm (Level 8), Levicorpus (Level 5), ???, ???...  

 The rest were question marks.   

No wonder blocking a single Disarming Charm earned 50 proficiency points...  

 A small note at the bottom read: *The opponent’s level is too high for complete analysis.*  

 Katherine hesitated briefly before shaking his hand.  

 “Can you let me down now?”  

 The pressure on his legs suddenly disappeared, and he quickly retracted his hand to shield his head as he hit the ground with a thud.  

 After dusting himself off and drinking a potion to recover, Luke stood up.  

 “Let’s go again!”  

 “I’m not a circus trainer, little fawn,” Katherine said, her tone as cold as ever. “Perhaps you should consult the Care of Magical Creatures professor—oh wait, I forgot, you’re just a first-year and don’t take that class yet.”  

 Though her face displayed an apologetic expression, her green eyes sparkled with mischief, as if she were truly enjoying toying with an innocent little fawn.  

 Luke felt a bit irritated. In two lifetimes, he had never encountered someone with such a peculiar sense of humor.  

 But he swallowed his frustration. For the sake of skill proficiency, he would endure her antics no matter what.  

 “How could a young fawn like me ever hope to defeat a venomous snake like you, Senior?” he said, feigning shyness. “It’s no shame to lose to you. After all, even Eve couldn’t resist... *Protego!*”   

As Katherine attempted another Levicorpus, Luke blocked it. She didn’t press further; the anger in her eyes gradually subsided.  

 “Do you think provoking me will make me agree to spar with you? Clever ploy...”   Luke didn’t feel embarrassed at being caught. He nodded frankly. “Senior, you’re very perceptive.”  

 Katherine grabbed him by the collar, pulling him closer. Her pale green eyes were as still as a deep pool, gazing unblinkingly into his. At eleven years old, Luke barely stood 4'7", and Katherine towered over him, forcing him to look up.  

 Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Luke beat her to it. “Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are as green as freshly pickled toads?”  

 (End of chapter)

*Chapter 15: Animal Companions*

Katherine realized she was utterly and completely wrong.

She had thought that, after years of her mother’s relentless influence, her sharp tongue was unmatched. But it turned out that the junior student standing before her was just as skilled in verbal sparring.

The younger student, who had already earned her slight admiration for being “diligent and talented,” now seemed a touch more agreeable.

Perhaps it was a twisted sense of “heroes recognizing heroes” at play. Could sharp-tongued individuals naturally be drawn to one another?

Of course, any positive feelings she had were purely the kind one might feel when mentoring a junior. There was no trace of romance involved.

Luke, however, had no clue what Katherine was thinking. If he had known, he’d probably quip about how his past life as a legendary Dota player wasn’t just about gaming skills—have you ever seen a top-tier Dota player who wasn’t a master of comebacks and banter?

“You’re too weak right now,” Katherine stated with a calm, unreadable tone. “When you can cast any spell without a wand, only then will you qualify to be my sparring partner.”

Luke wanted to retort but found himself at a loss for words. In the end, all he could manage was, “Deal.”

“Remember, wandless casting—”

“Um...”

“Speak.”

“Could you... uh... bring me along when you go to the Room of Requirement every day?” Luke stammered, his face flushing slightly with embarrassment.

“Huh?” Katherine raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“No particular reason… just thought it’d be nice to walk together…”

“If you don’t give me a proper reason, I won’t agree to it.”

“I… I…” Luke took a deep breath, summoning all his courage, before blurting out his biggest vulnerability: “I’m terrible with directions!”

“Oh, so you’re a little lost fawn,” Katherine’s eyes gleamed with amusement, her tone dripping with teasing. She nodded and agreed, “Fine, but you’ll owe me a favor in return.”

“What kind of favor?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I’ll let you know when I think of it.”

...

With Katherine, a human GPS, leading the way, Luke no longer wandered aimlessly like a headless chicken. This arrangement saved him at least two hours a day.

Katherine: I thought I was mentoring a junior, but it turns out I’m just a map for him!  

Before bed, Luke checked his skill panel and noticed that his proficiency with the Shield Charm had skyrocketed to 5,850/10,000.

This strengthened his resolve to “milk” Katherine’s expertise for all it was worth.

The next day, everyone gathered in the Great Hall for breakfast.

The first class didn’t start until 11:15, so Luke planned to pull Harry and Ron along for some spell practice.

At the moment, Ron was double-fisting chicken legs like a berserk warrior, while Neville seemed no less voracious, devouring his meal as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

As Luke nibbled on a croissant, a familiar voice pierced the air.

“Well, look who it is—oh, the little lost fawn,” Katherine’s melodious voice carried an edge that was as pleasant as it was cutting. “Dining with your animal companions, are you? Let’s see… a red-haired squirrel from the Weasley clan, Potter’s four-eyed little frog, and Longbottom’s sniveling piglet. Is this some sort of woodland gathering?”

Ron, having heard plenty of tales about the infamous Katherine Vole from his brothers, dared not utter a word. Neville was equally speechless, and Harry, naturally, was no exception. If he had the courage to retort, he’d have dealt with Dudley long ago.

Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy, sitting nearby, was grinning like a blooming lotus, chuckling gleefully at their plight.

Then Katherine’s next line shattered his smugness entirely.

“Oh, almost forgot the pièce de résistance—look, it’s Malfoy’s dumb white ferret!”

Ron couldn’t help but snicker, but quickly stifled it out of fear of Katherine, his face turning as red as his hair.

Draco, both humiliated and furious, glared daggers at Ron, though he dared not lash out at Katherine. His face contorted in suppressed anger, looking downright pitiful.

“The venomous senior is finally turning on us little animals?” Luke feigned a shiver, sidling closer to Harry.

Harry, genuinely uneasy, instinctively hugged Luke tightly.

Katherine scoffed and sat down a seat away from Luke.

The group exchanged solemn glances, looking at Luke as if he were a hero. Their stares made him uncomfortable. “Alright, alright, eat up! We still have spells to practice.”

After breakfast, Neville returned to the dormitory, leaving just Harry and Ron. When they mentioned practicing spells with Luke, Draco reluctantly joined in.

However, Luke quickly realized they were hopelessly unskilled. Even Draco could barely cast proper spells.

Determined to make the best of it, Luke patiently coached them. While basic spells like Alohomora and Wingardium Leviosa left the trio fumbling, mischievous curses like Rictusempra, Incendio, and Tarantallegra lit up their eyes.

It was clear: nothing motivated young wizards more than spells they could use for pranks.

Harry, in particular, started eyeing Draco with mischief, ready to strike at Luke’s command.

Curious, Luke used his Identify spell on the trio.

*Harry Potter (marked by a silver dragon symbol)*

- Level 1 Wizard

- Talents: Charms (7), Potions (10), Transfiguration (7), Dark Arts (10), Defense Against the Dark Arts (10), Flying (15), Herbology (5), Divination (6)

*Ronald Weasley*

- Level 1 Wizard

- Talents: Charms (8), Potions (7), Transfiguration (6), Dark Arts (9), Defense Against the Dark Arts (9), Flying (7), Herbology (3), Divination (3)

*Draco Malfoy*

- Level 1 Wizard

- Talents: Charms (7), Potions (7), Transfiguration (7), Dark Arts (10), Defense Against the Dark Arts (7), Flying (8), Herbology (6), Divination (7)

No wonder, Luke thought, smacking his lips. All three had impressive aptitude for the Dark Arts—though Ron seemed more invested in eating than magic.

By the end of the morning practice, the trio’s efforts had contributed 100 proficiency points to Luke’s Shield Charm.

Strangely enough, each of their mischievous curses had leveled up to three. How they managed that, Luke couldn’t fathom.

(End of Chapter)