HP: Fairy Tale Wizard - 149

Chapter 149: Hogwarts Cup Opening

Terry struggled along with half-asleep Sterling on his back toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"Will you wake up already? You can't expect me to carry you through the exam, can you? Sterling? Sterling!"

Terry was exhausted and gasping. Sterling wasn't heavy, but Terry was a typical Ravenclaw. Though his goal was to become a Quidditch player, his target position was Seeker, so his strength was mediocre at best.

"Ah, I almost had it..."

Sterling yawned and climbed off Terry's back, stretching.

"You say that every time you wake up."

Terry irritably shoved Sterling's bag into his hands.

"If you weren't an Incubus with a training manual from that adult Incubus, Meryl, I'd suspect you're deliberately making excuses to slack off."

"It's not my fault she wrote such a vague book."

Sterling indignantly pulled a purple booklet from his bag. The flower that the woman had tucked into his chest pocket had transformed overnight into a book called "Little Secrets of Incubi," signed by Meryl.

Though the book was called "Little Secrets," it actually covered everything Incubi encounter from birth to adulthood. Terry jokingly called it his "training manual."

It contained many interesting facts. For instance, Incubi were egg-laying creatures. Incubi had weak emotions but instinctively sought out joyful emotions in others.

Terry and Hermione, who'd read this section with Sterling, expressed doubt. Sterling didn't seem to have anything to do with "weak emotions," right?

Sterling opened the book to a middle page.

Incubus Talent: Dream Eating

"Though Incubi can gain energy through eating regular food, this diet isn't healthy for them. As their name suggests, they should eat dreams."

"A young Incubus needs to consume three intelligent beings' dreams to sustain a week's worth of activity. If you're a big eater, eat as much as you want. Incubi never get too full."

"Incubus dream-eating is essentially like breathing for other beings—something innate. But since some Incubi raised among humans might forget their instincts, the world's most understanding Meryl has thoughtfully compiled this guide to help you remember."

"First, go to sleep. When you dream, exit your own dream. You'll see others' dreams, which appear as colorful bubbles. Bubble size indicates how much information the dream contains, while color indicates flavor. Don't eat black ones—they're unimaginably disgusting. Avoid yellow ones until you reach adulthood."

"There's actually an easier method, but Meryl doesn't want to be burned alive yet, so under threat from certain evil forces, she can only ask her dear little brother to work a bit harder, okay?"

Below was a long section meticulously explaining what each color represented, precise enough that bubbles with a red-green ratio of 1:2 supposedly tasted like "sour citrus and raspberry left to sit for two days before being chilled."

"Honestly, Sterling, how long has this Meryl lived?"

"What makes you think she's lived a long time?"

"It's obvious. Unless you've lived so long you have nothing better to do, who would spend time categorizing so many weird flavors? It's bizarre. Wait, why won't these pages open?"

Sterling looked at the pages Terry was trying to separate. They were stuck together, but text slowly appeared:

Yellow Bubble Section

Please confirm if you're 18 years old?

Yes/No

Sterling clicked "Yes." Red smoke drifted from the pages, making Sterling and Terry cough .

Elegant writing appeared below "Yes/No."

"Nice try, you little liar. I can't always watch you, but I know your age. Come back to these sections when you're older~"

"Dreams that require you to be an adult to eat—could they be related to Dark Magic dreams? But those should be black dreams, right?"

Terry stroked his chin. Clearly, despite how open England's Muggle society might be, wizarding families maintained traditional, conservative education.

"No, dream flavor only relates to emotions. Black means despair dreams—we saw that earlier."

Sterling also stroked his non-existent beard. Thanks to Andrew's protection, he was equally clueless.

As the two stared at each other, a red figure rushed by them.

"Was that Ron? Why's he running so fast?"

A black shadow flew past. This time it was Harry.

"Harry's also rushing? Oh no, Sterling! The Defense Against the Dark Arts exam!"

Sterling and Terry finally realized they were in trouble. Sterling drew his wand and cast a Time Display Charm. They had only three minutes until exam time.

"It's all your fault, Sterling..."

They sprinted back toward Ravenclaw Tower.

"Phew. Harry's wizard chess is terrible. He stubbornly refused to surrender and nearly made us late."

Ron wiped sweat from his forehead, explaining to Hermione and Padma. Harry was still catching his breath, head down.

"By the way, where are Sterling and Terry? Why didn't they come with you?"

Hermione flipped through notes with her head down, continuously reciting spell sequences. Padma answered beside her.

"They walked too slowly. Sterling was still napping constantly. Hermione grew impatient, wanting to reach the exam room for a final review, so we separated. Wait, why haven't they arrived yet?"

Speak of the devil.

Sterling walked in, his face calm and breathing steady. He sat in the seat beside Harry.

Behind him, pale-faced and gasping, Terry shakily entered the classroom and collapsed into his seat.

"I'm done with Quidditch..."

Terry wailed dramatically. Moments earlier at the classroom door, while gasping for breath, Sterling had casually mentioned that this speed was what Harry and Ron could now achieve.

Harry was already a Seeker. Ron, with his physique and passion, would definitely make the team unless Oliver was blind.

But Terry? With "Prophet Magic" offering no physical enhancement, he really needed to avoid direct competition.

Not joining the team meant forever saying, "If I'd led Ravenclaw, we would've had seven championships by now."

But actually joining and losing would make him a laughingstock.

Win? Impossible. Next semester, those two monsters would be playing. Unless Sterling personally played, Gryffindor's Quidditch team was truly invincible.

Even Flint's tricks wouldn't work . He couldn't elbow them without taking the recoil and falling off his broomstick himself.

The most disappointed about this was Harry.

He'd hoped that after Ron joined, they could play "brother Quidditch" and have a "fated friend duel" with Terry.

The bell rang. The once noisy classroom fell silent. Vitam, wearing her finest outfit, walked in .

"This is probably our second-to-last meeting, children. The last will be at semester's end."

"Professor! Won't you teach us next semester?"

"Correct." Vitam nodded. "I've submitted my resignation to Headmaster Dumbledore. I'll be going to France for Chocolate Frog business negotiations, so regrettably, I can't be there for your next stage of learning."

Disappointed sounds filled the classroom.

"Is it true?" Hermione leaned over and quietly asked Sterling. She also liked this professor.

"No." Sterling gave a tiny shake of his head.

"Remember? Voldemort cursed the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. No one can teach for more than a year. Yesterday, during alchemy class, Professor Vitam nearly died from an explosion."

"She has to leave Hogwarts after the semester ends."

Sterling was actually downplaying it. Vitam had literally been blown in half yesterday. If not for her body modifications, Hogwarts would already be holding memorial services.

The other students whispered among themselves, sad to see Professor Vitam go.

Professor Vitam's courses were truly interesting, especially for Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Senior students had warned them that most Defense classes were dull, which made them appreciate this rare, excellent professor even more. Some Ravenclaws felt her class was more like Alchemy than Defense, but whatever she taught, it was substantial content.

Whether blowing up Dark wizards with alchemy counted as proper defense was up for debate.

"Alright, alright." Vitam clapped, signaling the students to quiet down.

"You remember my first lesson? That was quite an unconventional meeting. I'm someone who values formality, so I don't want our final class to end on a dull note."

Vitam opened the classroom door.

"You've probably wondered why I set the exam classroom on the fourth floor. Now, can anyone tell me what the forbidden area Headmaster Dumbledore declared off-limits at the term’s start was?"

"The corridor at the right end of the fourth floor!"

A Ravenclaw raised her hand. Vitam gave her five points, though the girl wasn't particularly thrilled.

With Ravenclaw's commanding lead in house points, the students had become jaded. Anything less than fifty points barely registered.

"Correct. For those wanting to avoid a painful death, the forbidden area was indeed that dangerous. But now, we professors have made it safe."

"It's now a spacious dueling arena. Yes, children, dueling. I assume you're familiar with the concept?"

The Gryffindors laughed, exchanging knowing glances with the Slytherins.

Dueling. After the "Quirrell incident," students who hadn't dueled at least seven or eight times were considered cowards.

Clang clang clang.

Vitam tapped the blackboard, confirming that all students were looking at her before satisfiedly nodding and continuing.

"I think smart children already know our final exam format."

"Defense Against the Dark Arts is a very broad concept. I know some of you might think my course resembles Alchemy more. But mithril daggers cutting Dark wizards' arms truly prevents magic use."

"And this success rate is higher than a young wizard escaping from Dark wizards, so it's a Dark Arts defense method."

"Then clearly, escaping is defense, attacking is even more defense!"

"I can't get you a Dark wizard to fight. Coincidentally, your terrible duels that neither Professor Flitwick nor I can stand watching, then simply..."

"Let's compete. This is your final exam."

"Not your messy close-your-eyes-then-cast-spells, can't-even-recognize-enemies group brawls, but truly like duel masters, standing on stage, fully displaying your magical accomplishments!"

"I dare say after this exam, you'll never forget Professor Vitam for the rest of your lives."

Vitam raised her wand high. Students below the podium had starlight in their eyes.

As she said, after these children graduated from Hogwarts, whenever they mentioned "Defense Against the Dark Arts," Professor Vitam would be the first to pop into their minds.

Originally, there was hope they'd only remember Vitam. Just this class's future, well, would have other memorable Defense professors.

"Children, I'm delighted to finally do something I've anticipated for a long time. Oh, I once thought I could only complete this after retiring from Hogwarts."

Professor Flitwick cheerfully walked in from outside, holding two signs. He handed one to Professor Vitam.

"Professor Flitwick will score and evaluate your dueling performances alongside me. I'm sure you're familiar with Professor Flitwick's dueling accomplishments?"

"Dueling Championship Winner!"

A Hufflepuff student shouted excitedly. Sterling's group glanced at him.

Are you Hufflepuff's cheerleader? Being eager doesn't change the fact that Professor Flitwick is Ravenclaw's Head of House!

Hermione pursed her lips. She'd been just slightly slower.

Flitwick's smile widened. He proudly performed a dueling bow.

"Yes, yes, oh, those were glorious days. These are souvenirs from my competition days—the judges' scoring boards."

"Simple alchemy gadgets, nothing fancy, but they witnessed my championship match. Now they'll witness yours."

Vitam clapped. The classroom's back wall suddenly slid apart like a set of building blocks, revealing a long tunnel ahead.

"Come, children. Through this tunnel, the first Hogwarts Cup begins."

"By the way, all your other professors are waiting in the spectator seats."