What do you mean?” Thomas asked, looking puzzled, while Jim seemed to grasp the concept a little.
Drawing from the exam preparation methods of his past life in China, Jerael offered his suggestion:
“Simply put, it means practicing beforehand with substitute materials.
Practice how to slice, how to grind, and the step-by-step brewing process a few times before class.
Once you’re familiar with the steps, your success rate during the actual lesson will be much higher.”
“But we can’t afford to buy so many ingredients, and if we mess up during practice, it’ll just be a waste,” Thomas said with a conflicted frown.
Jerael gave Thomas a light nudge.
“Transfiguration.”
Jim’s eyes lit up instantly.
“Right!
We can ask older students to use Transfiguration to turn ordinary objects into potion ingredients for us to practice with!
We’re trying to master the overall process anyway, so we don’t actually need to brew real magic potions.
As long as we get the physical routine down, class will be much easier, and we won’t get chewed out by Professor Snape!”
Thomas grew visibly excited.
Jerael added:
“Not only that, you can ask the upperclassmen for guidance while they help you transform the materials.
For them, it’s a great way to review and refine their own skills.
Eventually, everyone can form study groups to discuss problems and help one another.
Even if the professors find out, they won’t criticize us for taking initiative.”
Thomas and Jim dashed back into the crowd of Hufflepuff first-years, eagerly spreading the idea of simulated brewing to everyone.
Soon, the whole group was buzzing with enthusiasm.
Noticing Jerael watching them, they turned as one and flashed him giant, grateful smiles.
Jerael ate lunch chatting and laughing with Jack and the other Ravenclaws before returning to the Ravenclaw common room for a noon rest.
In the afternoon, Ravenclaw had History of Magic alongside Slytherin.
The atmosphere was manageable.
The newly enrolled Slytherins, aware that Voldemort was dead, had nothing to brag about and remained silent throughout the entire period.
Jerael tried his best to pay attention to Professor Binns’s lecture, but in the end, his head thudded onto the desk.
It was even more excruciating to endure than a Chinese literature class in his previous life.
Jerael groaned in silent agony, resting his forehead against the wooden surface.
A tiny sense of moral duty kept him from falling asleep entirely.
Giving up on listening, Jerael opened his textbook, intending to read it like a storybook.
Before long, Jack noticed Jerael’s expression turning progressively darker, until he looked ready to burst into tears.
“Jack…
can you actually remember all these goblin names?” Jerael asked pitifully.
Hearing the question, Jack’s shoulders instantly slouched.
“No way.
I can only remember major historical events in the wizarding world.
I can’t remember specific names, let alone goblin ones!
But my mom said the 18th-century goblin rebellions are major exam material every year.”
“Sigh…”
Jerael and Jack looked at each other and let out a synchronized sigh.
“Don’t worry.
Ravenclaw has plenty of study groups,” whispered a student sitting in the row ahead of them, turning around quietly.
“I looked into it—there’s a dedicated ‘How to Master History of Magic’ group.
It was started years ago by the Ravenclaw Head Boy at the time.
It’s been running for over a decade, and people say it’s ridiculously effective.”
After finishing his sentence, the boy instinctively adjusted the spectacles on his nose, the lenses reflecting a wise, studious sheen.
“Lars Thorin,” he introduced himself.
“My entire family went to Ravenclaw.
And by the way, that former Head Boy I mentioned was my father.”
Jerael blinked and asked an unrelated question, “Are those real lenses?”
Lars Thorin froze for a moment, a faint flush rising to his cheeks as he said sheepishly, “What?
Oh, no…
they’re just non-prescription accessories.
My mom said wearing glasses makes you look smarter, so people are less likely to pick on you.”
Lars took off the glasses to show them.
Looking at the clear, innocent, round eyes beneath, Jerael wholeheartedly agreed with his mother’s wisdom.
He helped Lars put the glasses back on and praised, “They look great on you.
Your mom is very smart.”
Lars beamed with joy, feeling he had taken another step toward building solid friendships with his housemates.
When class ended, the students swarmed back to the common room like a flock of birds.
Jerael had originally planned to drop off his books and head straight up to the eighth floor to find the Room of Requirement, but he was intercepted in the common room by Prefect Sinclair.
“Jerael!
The Hufflepuff prefect told me you came up with a method called ‘simulated brewing’?
What’s the idea behind that?”
Jerael hadn’t expected the prefects of different houses to communicate so closely—or perhaps Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff simply shared a close relationship.
Regardless, he explained his reasoning to Prefect Sinclair.
“It’s like this: I grew up in the Muggle world, and in Muggle primary schools, teachers often hand out toy food or plastic models for kids to practice with.
The advantage is that models are easy to make, kids learn quickly with them, and you don’t have to worry about wasting real supplies because everything can be reused.”
“After Potions class today, I thought about it—if we could practice the routine beforehand, even if it’s just going through the motions with fake items, it would be far better than jumping in completely unprepared.
After all, if a potion goes wrong during actual brewing, it can cause severe damage.”
As Jerael spoke, the smile on Prefect Sinclair’s face grew wider and wider.
Finally, he grinned broadly and gave Jerael a heavy slap on the shoulder, proposing:
“Laura Holloway—the Hufflepuff prefect—and I think this idea is brilliant!
It’s definitely worth establishing as an official study group.
Since it was your idea, are you interested in being the group leader?” This chapter was copied from novelping.com without permission.
Jerael was taken aback.
Instinctively, he looked directly into Prefect Sinclair’s eyes, but he saw only a genuine thirst for knowledge and pure excitement.
He silently scolded himself for his paranoia.
*This is a school.
This is Ravenclaw—not the Hyūga clan compound, where clansmen scheme against you at every turn.*
Sinclair truly believed he could lead the group; he wasn’t trying to flatter or test him.
Relieved, Jerael shook his head and declined politely.
“Prefect Sinclair, I’m only a first-year.
Even though I came up with the idea, I don’t know how to organize the specifics.
Besides, if we need upperclassmen to help with Transfiguration, someone like me wouldn’t have the authority to ask them.”
Seeing Sinclair fall into thought, Jerael continued, “However, I’ll definitely join the group as a member.
If I have any other ideas later on, I’ll be sure to pass them along to you.”
Seeing Jerael’s stance, Prefect Sinclair didn’t push the matter, recognizing the validity of his points.
With the political situation in the wizarding world gradually stabilizing, a student’s main duty was to study.
Furthermore, Jerael was new to the house and lacked both connections and prestige; pushing him into a leadership position would only do him more harm than good.
Sinclair, having regained his composure from his initial excitement, let the natural wisdom of a Ravenclaw return.
He nodded solemnly and said, “I understand.
Don’t worry—I’ll handle organizing the study group with Laura and post the details in the common room later.
Make sure to keep an eye out for the notice.”
Seeing Jerael nod obediently, Sinclair finally let him go.
Only after Prefect Sinclair’s figure vanished did Jerael let out a helpless sigh.
*Does Britain practice ‘happy education’ too?
How did no one ever think of something so straightforward before?*
…
Late that afternoon, many students were strolling through Hogwarts Castle.
Jerael’s figure walking up toward the eighth floor attracted little attention.
Before long, Jerael located the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls on the eighth floor.
After walking past it three times with clear intent, he entered the Room of Requirement.
The moment he stepped inside, Jerael was greeted by a familiar Konoha training ground, complete with the Hyūga clan crest painted right at the center of the wooden target standard.
Jerael: “…”
He hadn’t realized that deep down, he harbored such a burning resentment for the Hyūga clan that even his target practice defaulted to striking their clan symbol.
Still, he was immensely grateful for the wonders of magic—to think it could recreate a ninja training field so flawlessly.
Though he didn’t quite understand the underlying mechanics, Jerael accepted it calmly.
As the saying went: *Never turn down nature’s bounty.*
Checking the time, he saw it was just past four o’clock.
Jerael immediately sat cross-legged on the grass and began extracting chakra, focusing his mind on cultivating his ninjutsu.
He had no idea, however, that inside the Headmaster’s Office high up in the tower, a conversation regarding him was currently taking place.