This is what Ravenclaw looks like..

Chapter 175 Did the rooster die today?
"My idea was largely successful, professor."

In Professor McGonagall's office, after many experiments, Andrew reported his progress in a certain tone.

"Less than a month?"

Professor McGonagall's tone was a little surprised. "It's faster than I expected. Use the table - um, the one over there, for once."

"The range still cannot be accurately controlled, Professor," Andrew's expression was not so calm - Professor McGonagall saw the flaw at a glance.

"It's okay. Show me how far your idea can go."

The professor shook his head slightly, "Go ahead and cast the spell. Don't worry about causing any damage."

...

I wouldn't even dare to dream about it to that extent.

Andrew swallowed his complaints, carefully took out the jar from his backpack, placed it on the table, and then repeated his experiment.

A familiar secondary cast - the beans exploded out of their cocoons and blasted directly towards the entire office, easily turning the entire table top into another color.

But those flying beans seemed to have received some command, and stopped in mid-air. Then, as if they had lost all their strength, they gently fell back onto the table and rolled together with the rest of the beans.

"Very good, no, very good, Taylor."

Professor McGonagall nodded. "You have successfully created a variant of area casting, and it has great potential. Now you can officially start learning area casting. I gave you the list of books last time. Go to the library and borrow some now... Well, this semester, work hard on practicing area casting. Don't study human body deformation or other transfiguration techniques. Now is not the time."

Or area casting?

Andrew was stunned for a moment - was there something hidden in here that he didn't know about?
But there must be logic in the professor's arrangement, and Andrew, who had just touched upon the field of range casting, was not at all opposed to it.

"And the lab, professor..."

Andrew handed over the key carefully - he would definitely hand over this precious resource after not testing the spell.

"Keep practicing. Just practice what you want in the lab. And those..."

Professor McGonagall hesitated and said, "Take all the books, including those in the restricted section, to the laboratory. If you come across something you don't understand, bring the book to me."

'Have you also given the privileges to the restricted section?'

Last school year, all the books were kept by Professor McGonagall, and Andrew read them after he finished processing the documents. Now this is really...

"I'll practice hard, Professor."

"Well, go get the book."

-

To Andrew's surprise, when he went to get the book this time, Madam Pince didn't even comment on the banned books on the list. She took out the book and removed the magic on it neatly.

Even Madam Pince saw him staring blankly there and drove him away with some dissatisfaction - telling him not to block the way of the next person who came to borrow books.

Andrew was so surprised that he could only leave with a pile of books and then think about what to do next.

After nearly a month of classes, he has completely mastered Professor Lockhart's quick memory techniques and auxiliary magic. His progress in German is also very encouraging. After the difficult problem of range deformation is solved, he will be able to write something with a German flavor in about half a month of study.

But that's not the point - the point now is when Ginny will kill the chicken.

He now changed the distance of his daily running from running along the Black Lake to running back and forth between the new greenhouse and the hunting lodge - just to check on the poor chickens every day.

As long as the chicken died, he could naturally put the blame on Ginny and apply to search the damn diary.

It’s that simple and clear, just wait for the chicken to die.

But unfortunately, their vitality is quite tenacious, and there is no sign of being killed so far. 'That's all... There is no other trick... Die quickly, chickens, and when you die, I can read books and practice Transfiguration in peace, and then happily spend my second year at Hogwarts...'

Andrew prayed devoutly, took the book all the way back to the laboratory, put it away, and then began to formally learn - the traditional and most authentic range casting.

"First, this one..."

-

"Hagrid, here we come."

"It's been almost a month since school started, and this is your first time seeing me, huh?"

In Hagrid's cabin, Harry and the other three finally remembered their visit and lowered their heads.

Ron was obsessed with flight training, Harry spent a lot of time with Sirius, and Hermione - who lost the first place in Transfiguration last semester, worked hard on Transfiguration this semester. In addition, she wasted too much time reading the Lockhart series in the summer, so she spent almost all her free time in the library.

"Busy, all busy, eh," said Hagrid's heavy nasal voice, "all busy."

It was obvious that this proud half-giant was a little angry.

But he quickly convinced himself, "It's not your fault. Sirius really was... He actually made it out alive, that's great... His motorcycle is still with me."

"Motorcycle?"

"Yes, a motorcycle, Sirius's, a flying motorcycle that can even carry me. He went to hunt down that..."

Hagrid paused, glanced at Harry nervously, and then continued when he saw that Harry was unaffected.

"Is it that time? He failed to track you down, and was sent to Azkaban. I thought the motorcycle was not worth it, so I left it in the warehouse. When I picked you up, he rode his motorcycle to me, and entrusted the motorcycle and you to me. I should have thought of it earlier. He was going to chase you desperately. Otherwise, he loved his motorcycle the most, so why would he give it up..."

Hagrid talked a lot, but his words didn't make sense.

But Harry felt something warm beating in his chest.

"Motorcycle?"

"Of course, it was a very cool flying motorcycle. I held you in my arms and rode it, and handed you over to Dumbledore, and then entrusted you to the Muggles..."

"But those muggles don't like Harry."

Hermione suddenly added softly.

"I can't say, I can't say..." Hagrid shook his head violently, "Dumbledore said no."

"Is there some special protection from Dumbledore?"

"Let's focus on the motorcycle..."

Hagrid changed the subject abruptly, and succeeded - for Harry and Ron found it lying on the other side of the hut, wiped clean.

The key is that Hagrid is even willing to take them flying for a while. This experience, which is completely different from flying on a broomstick, makes the two little wizards who love the sky addicted.

It wasn't until he returned that Ron discovered the loophole.

"Didn't Hagrid take advantage of this time to get the car sorted out before coming to us?"

"Besides, that flying car... is too familiar..."

The two looked at each other, and finally didn't know what to say. They could only walk towards the castle with their eyes wide open.

(End of this chapter)