Chapter 130: Witch Hunter and Collective Cheating
After discovering Reason, Wade couldn’t wait to improve the other Cabinet as well. But knowing he still had classes tomorrow, he reluctantly returned to the Dormitory to sleep.
The morning began with Transfiguration class. Transfiguration was one of those magics Wade could master swiftly—even without using his eyes. Perhaps because he’d been consistently practicing Mental Defense, his mind had grown sharper than it had been in his previous life. His mental imagery was clearer, more precise, and his Magic Guidance flowed smoothly and steadily. As a result, even in the early stages of learning, he succeeded after just one or two attempts.
Remus Lupin was an exceptionally gifted Transfiguration teacher. He had once helped his three closest friends become Animagi, and his own theoretical understanding and mastery of Transfiguration were nothing short of legendary. His teaching was always insightful, concise, and deeply intuitive. Under his guidance, Wade’s progress in Transfiguration was nothing short of meteoric.
It was Remus who finally concluded that Wade had reached a level where he could begin preparations for becoming an Animagus.
The first step was simple—yet extremely difficult. For an entire month, Wade had to continuously hold a fresh Mandragora leaf in his mouth, without swallowing it or removing it. The challenge was immense: people eat, drink, and even chew unconsciously in their sleep. So although the task was supposed to last only one month, it was not uncommon for someone to repeat the process several times—or even ten times—before succeeding.
Those who couldn’t endure the trial would simply give up.
But right now, Mandragora plants were still seedlings. Professor Sprout had said it would take at least another month before the leaves were mature enough to use.
For now, all Wade could do was continue practicing and refining his Transfiguration.
Since his learning pace far exceeded the curriculum, Professor McGonagall granted him permission to practice independently during class. She would occasionally walk by to offer guidance.
Transfiguration ended early, and Wade headed straight to the Astronomy Tower to continue his tutoring session with Professor Mor in Biological Alchemy.
As the session neared its close, a chess piece finally moved.
The White Knight circled the board, drew its sword, and swung it a few times as if dueling an invisible foe. Then it stood motionless, gripping the blade with both hands, and spoke in a low, solemn voice:
“Evil is evil. There is no such thing as big or small.”
Professor Mor chuckled. “Seems like quite the character… What kind of thought did you give it?”
At the question, the White Knight suddenly lifted its head.
“Based on your first impression, I do not like your attitude. But I will listen to what you have to say.”
Wade replied, “I read a short story in a magazine once. The protagonist was a Witch Hunter. I found it fascinating, so I gave it similar thoughts.”
“Interesting…” Professor Mor mused. “Most people just tell chess pieces what to do. Personality usually emerges accidentally.”
He turned to the knight and asked with genuine curiosity, “Are you a knight of the Eight Virtues?”
The White Knight fell silent for a moment before speaking seriously:
“No. I am not a knight. I am a Witch Hunter.”
“A Witch Hunter?” Professor Mor nearly laughed. “Are you hunting demons and vampires?”
“Go ahead and mock me,” the knight said, voice heavy. “I know how hard it is for people to truly understand one another.”
“Perhaps you’ll find it hard to believe,” it continued, “but even lands bathed in sunlight have shadows that never see the sun.”
“What if I told you to fight the black pieces on the board?” Professor Mor asked.
The White Knight glanced at the faceless black pieces and shook its head.
“I cannot harm the innocent.”
“But you’re a chess piece. That’s your mission,” Professor Mor countered.
“I do not accept the mission you’ve imposed on me,” the knight insisted. “I know what I must do. Even if my path is destined to be lonely.”
Seeing how entertained Professor Mor was by the exchange, Wade decided to keep the chess piece. After saying goodbye, he left.
In the afternoon came Defense Against the Dark Arts.
“Liam and Harry said yesterday’s Defense class was a complete disaster,” Michael said during lunch, relaying gossip he’d picked up from the Umbrella Room. “Professor Lockhart brought a whole cage of Cornish Piskies. They made a mess of the classroom and then escaped.”
“Not just that,” Padma added. “Several students got bitten or scratched. Madam Pomfrey was furious.”
Lisha stared in disbelief. “I heard they even started the class with a test paper—full of questions about Lockhart’s favorite color, his achievements, that kind of thing.”
Anthony Goldstein quietly gathered a few second-year Ravenclaws in a small room behind the Great Hall. He handed each of them a note.
“Honestly,” he said, “I think the questions Lockhart asks are completely meaningless. There’s no point in reading books just to memorize trivia.”
“These are the questions I’ve gathered, along with the answers. Go over them now. That way, you’ll get through class without trouble.”
“And don’t pull out your cheat sheet during the test,” he warned. “He’s a professor. He might have some kind of cheating detection spell.”
“Got it,” Terry replied, unfolding the note. “I just… don’t like doing it this way.”
“Still, making a good first impression matters,” Anthony said. “He’s the professor. We might need his permission slips later. And if our grades are too poor, he could even assign detentions.”
Terry fell silent.
The students hunched over the notes, whispering and memorizing answers. Ravenclaws, though not quite photographic in memory, were rarely forgetful. Some skimmed the notes once and remembered most of it—enough to get by without aiming for a perfect score. Others—especially most of the girls—went over them again and again.
Wade was also silently reciting the answers.
He didn’t care for Lockhart, but he knew one thing for certain: getting a Restricted Section permission slip from him would be easy if he made a good impression.
Anthony was right—first impressions mattered.
But he also knew not to get perfect scores. Too high a grade would make Lockhart think he was a fanatical admirer. Then, every class would turn into a performance of exaggerated, embarrassing theatrics. That would be unbearable.
Once the memorization was complete, the students burned their notes—just in case. No one wanted to get caught in a collective cheating scandal.
When they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Slytherin students were already inside.
As the Ravenclaws settled into their seats, Lockhart strode in with a radiant smile, arms full of test papers.
“Excellent, my dear children! Looks like you’re all eager for class. And I see you’ve all bought my complete book collection. I’m sure you’ve read every word—inside and out—from my many shining deeds.”
His voice was bright and cheerful.
“Perhaps some of you are wondering,” he said, imitating a high-pitched girl’s voice, “‘When will I ever be as great as Professor Lockhart—Third-Class Merlin Knight’s Medal recipient, Honorary Member of the Anti-Dark Arts League, five-time winner of the Wizard Weekly Most Charismatic Smile Award?’”
He flashed his so-called “most charming smile.”
“—How can I ever be that amazing?’”
“Don’t worry, children,” he reassured them. “Just don’t worry. I can only say: don’t worry.”
He encouraged them. “If you keep trying as hard as I did, one day, you’ll become truly great wizards.”
“Now, let’s see how much you’ve learned…”
He began passing out the test papers.
Wade glanced at his. Exactly as Anthony had said. Not a single question changed.
The Ravenclaws exchanged glances, sharing a silent understanding. Then they began writing—fast.
The Slytherins reacted differently. Some sneered. Some frowned. Some looked genuinely impressed. And one student—possibly having obtained answers in advance—started writing without even thinking.
The quills scratched across parchment, producing a soft rustling sound.
Today, Professor Lockhart was in for a surprise he’d never forget.
(End of Chapter)
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