This is what Ravenclaw looks like..

Chapter 37 The Elder Wand has come out, it must be a lie
"Wake up, Harry, that's not all true."

Fred and George opened their mouths wide. They had felt something was wrong before, and now they finally knew why - as smart people, they could see through the nonsense behind the wonderful story at a glance. They never expected that Harry actually took it so seriously.

The Elder Wand, what a joke, only kids like Ron would believe that thing exists.

"Maybe some of it isn't true... but everyone says nothing is strange about Dumbledore."

Harry glanced at his still-recovering leg. Madam Pomfrey said he'd better rest for the whole afternoon. "And the truth is always right. Be firm in your beliefs, accumulate strength, never give up... and then fight back fiercely."

"That's true, but... the fact that Dumbledore's wand is the Elder Wand... Mom said it when she told the story. It's a fairy tale..."

"Maybe, as long as the logic is correct," Harry said with a firm look, "Anyway, I want to give it a try."

This was the first time he had ever been the leader of a small team since he was a child. The only thing he could find to guide him was Dumbledore's biography. This failure made him think a lot.

+ + + +
"All the points were deducted... When was the last time we lost all the points?"

"Three years ago, or four years ago?"

In the common room, the senior Gryffindors were not in a hurry at all - the house cup had been out of the house for a long time, so it didn't matter if it was lost again.

The point is, what has become of that very Gryffindor Harry?

"I hope it didn't discourage him - one thing Gryffindor must remember is that when Slytherin is at a disadvantage, Snape will appear..."

"The second thing is, don't start a war with Slytherin unless the Quidditch game is coming..."

The person next to him added cheerfully, "Because Professor McGonagall's words at that time would be a little unfair..."

"The third and most important thing is learning..."

The sixth graders looked at the cheerful fifth graders and said, "How can you, at this grade and at this time, sit here and chat leisurely? This is your OWLS year. Have you finished your homework? Have you previewed the new courses? Have you reviewed the previous content?"

"Oh, okay, okay..."

The few fifth graders who had mixed into the crowd stood up quickly and ran towards their rooms as if they had seen Professor McGonagall.

-

Andrew was naturally unaware of the scene in the Gryffindor common room, but this did not affect his nervousness in the Transfiguration class.

Even a fool could feel the heaviness of the air. From the moment Professor McGonagall stepped into the classroom, the air in the classroom seemed to be cast under some evil spell, making people feel unable to breathe.

"Classes begin."

Professor McGonagall tried hard to appear calm, but this made things even more frightening. Although there were no Gryffindor students present, it did not stop everyone from trembling.

Fortunately, as the class progressed, Professor McGonagall's expression eased a little - the beans distributed by most students turned into glass balls under the spell. Even though a few of the glass balls showed obvious bean shapes, it could be considered a successful change of the object's form.

"Ravenclaw plus three points."

"Hufflepuff plus three points."

As Professor McGonagall spoke with a hint of powerlessness, the force that seemed to be strangling every student's neck finally disappeared.

"Okay, turn in last week's homework, and then write a note about this class."

Homework pieces were passed up one by one from the back - people then realized that the homework that should have been collected before class had been delayed until now.

Andrew, who was sitting in the front, thought about it for a moment, then nervously handed in his paper together.

"Okay, get out of class is over."

Professor McGonagall picked up the paper and left the classroom first. The students, relieved, were quiet for two or three minutes before they seemed to come to their senses and began to leave noisily one after another.

—“Andrew Taylor?”

Just when Andrew was reading in the library, a senior Ravenclaw found him.

"It's me, what's wrong?"

"Your roommate said you came to the library, and Professor McGonagall asked you to go to her office."

Andrew was stunned for a moment before he reacted.

"Ah? Okay, thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm a sixth grader, Barry Martin."

He looked at Andrew, but with kindness in his eyes, "Go quickly, don't keep the professor waiting too long."

"Okay, I'll do it right away."

Andrew stuffed his things into his bag almost randomly, trotted to where he had borrowed the book and put it back (Madam Pince glared at him and then chose to let him go), then quickly walked to the door and started running.

To be honest, he didn't know that Professor McGonagall would actually mark that thing that could barely be called a thesis so early.

"Here, we are."

He stopped, took a breath, and then knocked on the office door.

"Please come in."

Professor McGonagall's voice came, and when Andrew walked in, he realized that he was not the only visitor.

Two students with almost identical red hair were working at a table nearby, copying something with a deliberately serious look on their faces.

"Don't mind them, Taylor."

Professor McGonagall's tone was much more relaxed than in class, "Let's take a look at your paper."

...

"Here, this theory is not rigorous. When the effects of Transfiguration are transformed into living things, they are two completely different concepts..."

...

"And here, overly elaborate deformation will make the deformed object more easily destroyed by the power of Transfiguration..."

...

It was obvious that Professor McGonagall had carefully reviewed Andrew's paper.

"Generally speaking, it's pretty good. You can try these three books again. The specific reference range is..."

As the quill was writing and drawing, a new list of books was opened. "Of course, don't underestimate practice. Although the effect of practice is not as significant as that of magic spells, theoretical understanding can never replace the problems found in practice."

"I'll pay attention to my training, Professor."

"Well, that's it. You should go to the library and borrow the book first," Professor McGonagall said to Andrew in a kind tone.

But as Andrew left the office and closed the door, he heard Professor McGonagall's ruthless voice coming from inside.

"Brother Weasley, if you submit similar self-reviews again using the excuse that you have similar ideas... then you can report to Mr. Filch."

The feeling of oppression during class came over Andrew, and he instantly quickened his pace.

(End of this chapter)