Chapter 339: Isn't Memorizing the Entire Books Basic Skill?
“I’m so stupid! I don’t deserve to take this Door course!” Lisha buried her face in her hands, sobbing: “I knew Ancient Runes was hard, but I didn’t know it was this hard… I thought if I just memorized enough, I’d be fine…”
Padma, who had been about to comfort her, froze mid-motion—her own face pale as chalk.
Thanks to Wade’s success—especially how effortlessly it had seemed—most Ravenclaw students had high hopes of becoming The Alchemist, and so they’d all signed up for Ancient Runes. They wanted to secure their OWLs certificates, so they could take Alchemy in sixth year.
In previous years, Alchemy had almost exclusively been a Ravenclaw domain. Other Houses occasionally had one or two students, but it was rare.
But now, facing the actual course, the complexity, tediousness, and depth of Ancient Runes had far exceeded everyone’s expectations.
“Wade… how did you even do it?” Lisha cried, tears streaming down her face. “Why could you master Runic Script in your First Year? This course is supposed to be impossible!”
Everyone turned to look at Wade—Slytherins included.
“Well, you’re not wrong,” Wade said calmly. “Learning Runic Script starts with memorization—committing the Runic Dictionary, the Magic Glyph Collection, and the Magic Phonetics Chart to memory. Know every symbol, every common phrase by heart. Once you’ve done that, this course becomes much simpler.”
“That’s just like saying—” Lisha sniffled, wiping her tears, “—if I just memorize every single Magic Book, I’ll become a great Wizard?”
“Have you been studying Ancient Runes like that before?” Steven Mor asked, clearly annoyed. “There must be some secret method!”
“I have,” Wade replied. “I memorized every single book—all of them—during my First Year. Took me less than two months.”
Hermione frowned, stepping in to defend him. “She’s telling the truth. He really did memorize every single text in his first year.”
Some students glanced at Padma. Even though she hadn’t been close to Wade back then, she nodded instantly.
—She hadn’t seen it herself, but she’d heard Michael complain about Wade’s inhuman study habits many times.
Wade added, “Otherwise, why would Professor Mor take me as his student? Was it because of pure passion and love for magic?”
The entire classroom fell silent.
“Time to go, Wade,” Hermione checked her watch, anxious. “I’ve got a Potions class right after this.”
She almost forgot that the Potions class she was rushing to was with Slytherin—like the silent Draco Malfoy sitting over there—rather than Ravenclaw.
“Yeah.” Wade stood, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “I’m heading to the Library too.”
“Oh—right, we’re not going together,” Hermione realized. She grabbed her books and bolted out the door.
The distance between the Potions classroom and here wasn’t just long—it was brutal. And Professor Snape’s attitude toward Gryffindor was well-known: terrible.
While Snape rarely targeted Hermione directly, she’d never risk being late.
Wade watched her sprint away, sighing. He knew she was used to this frantic pace—she’d never be able to change her mindset overnight.
And in a girl’s mind, growing up too fast compared to her peers was probably scarier than being late.
The few Slytherins also filed out, but they moved with far more ease—Snape always treated his own students with far greater leniency.
Padma finally pulled herself together and turned to her distraught neighbor. “It’s not about relationships, Lisha. You’ve got amazing memory. If you just spend more time, you can memorize it.”
Lisha burst into fresh tears—just thinking about the sheer thickness of the books made her feel hopeless.
Wade didn’t bother with his fragile classmates anymore. He walked out, turned two corners, and when he was sure no one was around, he wound the Time-Turner back a full rotation.
…
“What’s going on with this door?”
“Is it a riddle? Like the Common Room’s knocker?”
“But it’s all Ancient Runes…”
The ticking sound stopped. Wade heard Padma’s voice outside the Ancient Runes classroom, discussing why the door was locked.
Somewhere nearby, his past self was probably walking with Hermione—just an hour earlier.
Wade didn’t hesitate. He transformed into a falcon, dodging any chance of being seen by his past self, then launched into the air and soared straight to the Eighth Floor.
He entered the Room of Requirement, spent a few minutes finishing the Ancient Runes assignment, then rested for half an hour. Only then did he cast a Disguise Charm and make his way to the Great Hall.
“…Of course, if you could somehow acquire a Scorpion-Griffin, he’d willingly become your half-brother.”
Past Wade laughed with Michael as they stepped into the Great Hall.
Wade knew how sharp his instincts were. He didn’t get close. Instead, he followed like any ordinary student—just far enough to stay unnoticed.
Only when his past self activated the Time-Turner and vanished from sight did he drop the Disguise Charm and quickened his pace.
“A Scorpion-Griffin’s out of the question… but I need to borrow two books about Hippogriffs. Someone inside must have written about these creatures—how beautiful they are! So intelligent, and so attuned to human nature!”
Michael sighed dreamily. “I really wish I could have one.”
“Know this,” Wade interjected, “riding a Hippogriff violates the Confidentiality Act.”
Michael frowned, then brightened. “I could cast a Disguise Charm on it—on myself too. As long as no one sees us, it’s not a felony!”
“Wake up. You don’t have a Hippogriff.”
“But what if I do someday? I need to be prepared!”
…
The evening light bathed the small village of Hogsmeade in a soft glow. The only sound came from the bustling voices inside The Three Broomsticks.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and a towering figure ducked through, lowering his head.
“Evening, Hagrid!” Madam Rosmerta greeted with a smile. “What’ll it be?”
“Four pints of Honeywine,” Hagrid said. “And make sure there’s extra honey.”
As he spoke, he scanned the room, spotting the Gray-Cloaked Wizard sitting behind a curtain of ivy.
“Long time no see, Remus. What’ve you been up to lately?”
Hagrid sat down, his chair creaking under his weight.
“Tracking Sirius Black, chasing down Peter Pettigrew… and investigating some other things,” Remus Lupin replied curtly, his brow furrowed, his expression troubled. “I actually wanted to ask you something, Hagrid—about Hogwarts.”
“What is it…?” Hagrid started to say—then suddenly froze, his face softening with guilt. “Oh… right. I owe you an apology about Harry. Little Malfoy is a jerk, but most of this is my fault…”
“Wait… what?” Remus Lupin blinked, stunned. “What about Harry?”
(End of Chapter)
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