Life at Hogwarts was even more interesting than Linus had imagined.
Harry and Malfoy were like oil and water, arguing practically every time they met.
As a result, the Potions class shared between Gryffindor and Slytherin was always filled with joy—at least in Linus’s opinion—and gunpowder.
Thanks to Harry and Malfoy, and thanks to the almighty god of pyrotechnics, Seamus Finnigan, who contributed an endless stream of explosive moments.
Thanks to Seamus, Neville—his lab partner—had visited the hospital wing more times in the first two months of school than some seventh-year seniors had in their entire school careers.
What Linus wanted to learn most, however, was Seamus’s miraculous ability to dodge the instant an explosion occurred.
He privately suspected that Seamus’s explosion and anti-explosion talents were at least Gold-tier.
After nearly two months of observation, comparison, and summary, Linus found that the talent levels of first-year novices in Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, and other subjects generally fell between White and Blue.
Malfoy’s Potions, Harry’s Charms, and Hermione’s overall subjects had Purple potential in Linus’s eyes, though Malfoy and Harry were thoroughly wasting theirs.
As for magic capacity, Linus’s total magic power had broken through to Lv2 [50/50] last month without warning.
He could only attribute this to his daily routine of tirelessly consuming all his magic power over and over to train it.
Transfiguration and Charms had also reached Lv4 yesterday thanks to his relentless grinding, matching the spell power of most average sixth- and seventh-year students—a conclusion he had reached after “accidentally” stumbling into Professor Flitwick’s upper-year classes several times to observe them casting spells up close.
One senior girl had even gestured proudly for Linus to watch and learn after casting a clumsy spell.
Linus had smiled and nodded, thinking silently to himself, ‘Lv3, worst in the class.’
***
In the afternoon, they had class with the Slytherins again, though this time it wasn’t Potions—it was Flying Class.
Neville lived up to expectations by running into trouble once again.
Before Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, could even blow her whistle, he shot up into the sky like a rocket.
Linus sometimes wondered if the reason Neville couldn’t control his body was that his internal magic power was simply too vast, exceeding the limits of what someone his age could manage.
Neville still possessed some level of control over it, which was why he hadn’t become an Obscurus.
Mid-air, Neville let go at around thirty feet and plummeted straight down.
He landed on an air cushion conjured by Linus, bounced off, and faceplanted into the grass.
Madam Hooch rushed over to inspect Neville’s condition.
“Fortunately, it seems to be only a broken wrist,” she whispered.
“Up you get, dear.
You really ought to thank Linus.”
Neville stood up with a pale face, his head still spinning.
“Right, I’m taking this boy to the hospital wing.
The rest of you, put your broomsticks back in place.
If anyone dares to take off while I’m away, you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch,'” Madam Hooch warned, turning to address the rest of the class.
[Daily Quest Triggered: Help Neville Longbottom regain his confidence and join the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
Reward: Flying Talent White -> Blue]
Watching the retreating figures of Madam Hooch and Neville, Linus felt this quest would probably never be completed.
If not for this quest system, Linus might never have tried to alter the personalities or habits of the people around him.
He was terrified that the storm whipped up by his sudden butterfly effect would alter events seven years later into an entirely different tragedy.
There were already too many unnecessary sacrifices in the original story.
He wanted to do his best to save people—within his capacity.
To achieve that, he needed to know as much as possible.
Of course, he didn’t plan on doing this specific quest either.
Flying talent was completely useless to him anyway; he didn’t play competitive matches.
While Linus was still pondering the fate of seven years down the line, Malfoy had already taken off with Neville’s Remembrall.
Fueled by anger, Harry ignored an anxious Hermione’s attempt to stop him and mounted his broom to give chase.
Hermione kicked Linus in frustration.
“What are you daydreaming for?
Why didn’t you stop them?”
Linus shouted at a broom on the ground, “Up!”
The broom remained motionless.
“You see?
Once they’re up in the air, I’m as helpless as you are.” Linus shook his head at Hermione.
“I mean, why didn’t you stop Harry earlier?” Hermione demanded.
Linus looked up at Harry weaving nimbly through the air, contrasting with Malfoy’s somewhat clumsy movements on the other side.
He said softly, “At least Harry has the upper hand right now, doesn’t he?”
“But the professor said taking off without permission means being expelled!” Hermione tugged anxiously on Linus’s robes.
“In my opinion, the harshest punishment professors give out is detention.
If you knew anything about the Weasley twins’ glorious achievements over the past few years, you wouldn’t be worried about Harry up there right now,” Linus explained with a laugh.
Just then, Malfoy threw the Remembrall high into the air and fled back to the ground.
Harry accelerated into a dive, chasing the falling Remembrall.
Listening to the screams of the watching students and the cold autumn wind of Hogwarts, he caught the Remembrall just an inch off the ground, then tumbled gently onto another air cushion Linus had conjured.
“That was terrifying!” Hermione gasped.
“Harry Potter!” Professor McGonagall called out at the top of her lungs.
“A live-action spectacle,” Linus sighed softly.
No one knew yet that Professor McGonagall intended to introduce Harry as Gryffindor’s youngest Seeker.
The first-year Gryffindors scrambled to beg for mercy on Harry’s behalf, while the Slytherins looked on smugly.
Had Snape been the professor arriving, they undoubtedly would have added fuel to the fire.
Harry left with Professor McGonagall, and Ron looked utterly lost.
He felt as though he was about to lose the best friend he had made at Hogwarts.
He said to Linus, “Harry flies so well.”
Linus smiled and replied, “He really does.”
Ron said with a mournful face, “But we’re never going to see him again.”
Linus patted Ron.
“Think about your brothers.
They’ve broken more school rules than you know names, and they’re still studying at Hogwarts.
Don’t worry, Harry will be fine.”
“Really?” Ron asked, clutching at a lifeline.
“Trust me,” Linus said, taking Ron’s hand firmly.
***
By dinnertime, Harry finally put Ron’s hanging heart back in his chest.
However, the fact that Harry had been exceptionally appointed as a first-year Seeker because of his flying skills came as quite a shock to Ron.
He sat there, completely forgetting to keep eating the steak on his plate.
Outside the library entrance, Linus was squatting down, eating the dinner Hermione had brought him while flipping through *Moste Potente Potions*.
He firmly believed that no matter how high one’s talent was, reading was essential to enrich oneself.
Diligence could compensate for slowness and sharpen intellect.
That was why he had recently been saving time by skipping dinner in the Great Hall altogether.
“Aren’t you pushing yourself a bit too hard?” Even Hermione couldn’t stand watching it anymore.
“Time waits for no man,” Linus sighed, shaking his head.
“You’re not really planning to defeat Dumbledore before the end of our first year, are you?” Hermione’s eyes widened.
“You think I could?” Linus teased.
Hermione raised her notebook and smacked Linus hard on the shoulder.
“A hundred percent impossible!”
Linus chuckled and shook his head.
“Then I’ll just work hard for a few more years.
There’s still time.”
In a corner behind Hermione where she couldn’t see, a small stone floated up and dropped back down—Linus’s silent, wandless Levitating Charm.