From Hogwarts to Sturhaven

It was dinnertime, and students from all the houses of Hogwarts were sitting around their long tables, enjoying stewed beans and roasted sausages while chatting about all sorts of gossip they had heard.

"What are we going to do after dinner? Harry, do you have Quidditch practice today?" Ron sat at the Gryffindor table, a shiny roasted sausage on his fork, which he held to his mouth, and stuffed some garlic bread into his mouth.

"I don't have to train today. Since we're basically out of contention for the Quidditch Cup this year, Wood has relaxed his standards. When everyone first heard we were off today, they all thought Wood had hit his head." Harry also gulped down his mashed potatoes soaked in gravy. For these young wizards, playing was much more appealing than dinner.

“Great! Maybe we can play Wizards Chess in the common room!” Ron suggested enthusiastically.

However, Harry hesitated for only a second before politely declining. He was well aware of the gap between himself and Ron in wizard chess, and had no interest in a battle he was destined to lose: "Let's go see Hagrid! Remember? He borrowed a lot of books about dragons from the library last time."

“But didn’t he say it was just for academic research?” Ron tried to recall. “It also seems to be related to a professor named Celticburn.”

“That’s alright. It’s quite interesting to hear Hagrid tell stories about dragons.” Harry picked up a small lamb chop. “He’s good at dealing with magical creatures, like the hippogriff from before!”

“Okay.” Ron nodded in agreement, then immediately remembered the rock-skin cake that had almost broken his teeth. “But we’d better eat something before we go, so we have an excuse to refuse the rock-skin cake.”

Harry wholeheartedly agreed and hurriedly stuffed more food into his mouth.

"You are not allowed to go anywhere!"

The two knew they were in trouble as soon as they heard the voice; it was Hermione.

Spring wasn't even over yet, but Hermione was already thinking about her final exams at the end of June. It was all Ron's fault; he was complaining to Harry about his brother Percy in the common room, and Hermione overheard him.

Ron said Percy had made a study plan for his fifth-grade OWLs exams well in advance, filling his days with activities, but even so, he didn't forget to deduct points from his brothers. Fred and George were punished for bringing mud into the hall, and Ron himself almost got points deducted for playing with leftover Christmas firecrackers in the common room.

Hermione, who was passing by, probably didn't notice Ron's complaint at all. Instead, she praised Ron for his foresight and then pulled a bewildered Harry and Ron together to come up with a detailed and thorough study plan.

So for the next few days, Harry and Ron tried to find a way to avoid Hermione, but how could Hermione, as the mother bird, not find them?

Seeing that escape was hopeless, Ron and Harry tried to distract Hermione with words.

"Did you know, Hermione? Professor Quirrell has disappeared!" This was the rumor that had been circulating in the castle all afternoon. "He skipped all his classes this afternoon! The students who signed up for the Defense Against the Dark Arts advanced class are almost crying."

"How could that be?" Hermione frowned. "I haven't shown him my study plan yet!"

"I don't think it matters whether I show it to him or not, he's just reading from the textbook anyway." Ha used the onion soup on the table to swallow the bread in his mouth, and then he was fully prepared to escape. What student wants to be dragged to study on a Friday night?

"Do you think it's possible that Quirrell was killed by Snape?" Ron suddenly thought. "After all, they both wanted the Philosopher's Stone."

The fact that Quirrell and Snape were no good was already a consensus among the three. Quirrell released a troll on Halloween, and Snape was like a ghost, always haunting Gryffindor, and had even been bitten on the leg by Cerberus.

"That's none of our business!" Hermione retorted fiercely. "Professor Dumbledore is protecting the Philosopher's Stone; it's none of our business as three first-year students!"

"Look! It's Dumbledore!" Harry couldn't help but applaud Ron's cleverness. He had already seen Hermione turn her head away, and now was the perfect opportunity to escape. Hagrid would surely take in the two poor little wizards who wanted to temporarily escape their heavy studies.

"Ron!" Harry tugged at Ron's sleeve, signaling him to quietly leave his seat, but Ron remained unmoved, staring intently at the direction of the faculty and staff dining table.

"Who's that man next to Dumbledore? I've never seen him in the castle!" Harry heard Ron say, so he looked up as well.

He was a well-dressed, middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed beard. His hooked nose and deep-set eyes made him seem unapproachable. If Harry hadn't known that Hogwarts was a magic school, he would have thought he was a guy with a high status in Muggle society.

"Attention!" Dumbledore's voice echoed throughout the Great Hall without any visible movement. The sounds of knives and forks clattering on the long table, along with the students' conversations, all ceased. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Dumbledore's location.

"Many of you have probably noticed that Professor Quirrell was not at school this afternoon. I regret to inform you that he has left us forever." Dumbledore ignored the sudden uproar in the Great Hall and continued calmly, "But don't worry, I have found you another substitute teacher who will teach Defense Against the Dark Arts for the remainder of the term."

"Please allow me to introduce you to Professor Victor!" Dumbledore said, and then led the applause. The students and teachers in the hall looked at each other, not understanding what was going on, but a few scattered claps still rang out.

Harry noticed that the man Dumbledore called Victor had a somber face and seemed very reluctant to take over the Hogwarts education, only responding to the applause with a slight nod.

“No matter how well he teaches, he won’t be any worse than Quirrell,” Ron said. “At least he won’t smell like garlic.”

"He's a professor personally hired by Dumbledore!" Hermione looked very displeased with Ron's statement, giving him a sharp look before saying, "Alright, regardless of our new professor's abilities, you two come with me to the common room. We need to get a good spot as soon as possible and start reviewing!"

Harry felt he was going to be brutally killed again today by the knowledge Hermione brought him.

Chapter 93 Speedrun Magic Stone

Standing next to Dumbledore is Victor, of course, Ivy himself. Although for wizards, changing their appearance is a skill that relies heavily on talent, otherwise they would need to use potions to accomplish this.

However, for D&D wizards, there are many spells that can accomplish this. The first-level illusion spell, Disguise, can easily achieve disguise using illusions. However, because it is an illusion, physical accessories cannot be added on after the spell is completed.

Therefore, all you need is a small hat to achieve a clipping effect similar to that in video games.

Therefore, Ivy chose the 2nd-circle alteration spell, Transformation, which allows the caster to completely change their appearance or body shape, thus completely disguising themselves as another person, or to gain other benefits through magically created organs, such as gaining the ability to breathe underwater, or growing sharp teeth and claws.

Moreover, during the spell's duration, the caster only needs six seconds to complete another transformation, making it an extremely useful spell for escaping pursuit or creating confusion.

“Professor Victor? I’m Minerva McGonagall, the Vice-Headmistress of Hogwarts. Is that alright with me? I’m not sure if that’s my surname or first name.” Professor McGonagall, sitting next to Ivy at the faculty table, asked with a scrutinizing tone. She seemed to be in work mode almost immediately upon meeting her new colleague. “Excuse my curiosity, but may I ask where you graduated from?”

“I am a student of Hogwarts,” Ivy said, noticing the skeptical look on Professor McGonagall’s face. “You even taught me. My appearance and name are all fake, to deal with that well-known curse placed by the mysterious man.”

“Oh…” Professor McGonagall’s face showed a mixture of understanding and pity. “We never discuss that rumor publicly. Although I want to trust Dumbledore’s abilities… but regarding the choice of instructors for Defense Against the Dark Arts…”

Professor McGonagall stopped abruptly, then continued, "In short, I hope you can keep an eye on the fifth and seventh graders, since their exams are just around the corner."

Ivy poked at the mashed potatoes in front of her with her fork, her appetite gone, and said in a low voice, "OWLs and NEWT, I understand, they are both important."

"More importantly, the previous professors of Defense Against the Dark Arts all encountered accidents to varying degrees, so they never systematically studied this course." Professor McGonagall explained the predicament of Defense Against the Dark Arts very clearly. This was obvious, after all, at Hogwarts, professors of Defense Against the Dark Arts were consumables with a shelf life of only one year.

“Don’t worry, Professor Victor, Minerva is just too responsible. You don’t need to put too much pressure on yourself,” Professor Sprout, sitting to Professor McGonagall’s left, said with a kind smile.

"Thank you." Ivy sighed. "I'll handle all of this."

“Very good, Professor Victor.” Professor McGonagall’s expression showed more satisfaction. “A sense of responsibility is something every wizard working at Hogwarts needs. If you have finished your meal, please let me know and I will show you your classroom and office.”

"Hasn't the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom never changed? I remember the way." Ivy forced down a few pieces of grilled sausage, and the thought of facing a group of teenagers in two days made his stomach ache.

“It seems you were indeed a student at Hogwarts, Professor Victor.” Professor McGonagall nodded, not surprised. “You have the authority to change all the furnishings in the Defense Against the Dark Arts office; just ask the house-elves in the castle for help.”

After a gloomy meal, Ivy went alone to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, where there were many of Quirrell's personal belongings, all of which, without exception, reeked of garlic.

Ivy closed her eyes in anguish: "Whirlwind Sweep!"

A whirlwind suddenly swept through the room, gathering all of Quirrell's personal belongings together. Ivy showed no intention of inspecting the spoils, simply using a vanishing spell to erase them all.

A piece of parchment fell from mid-air. Ivy reached out and caught it, then nearly fainted. It was a timetable—a timetable for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Defense Against the Dark Arts (DFD) is a compulsory course for young wizards at Hogwarts, and it is taught throughout their entire education from Year 1 to Year 7. Except for Year 1 wizards who have only one DFD class per week, the other six years have two DFD classes per week. Furthermore, unlike Potions, DFD is taught in small groups, meaning each house student is taught individually. This means that the same lesson is taught to students from all four houses.

Therefore, the professors who teach this course have absolutely no free time from Monday to Friday. Fortunately, the sixth and seventh graders are in advanced classes, and only a small number of them attend, so they can all be put in one classroom. Otherwise, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professors would definitely not have enough time and would have to use a time-turner to complete the lessons.

Ivy tossed the timetable back into the air, turned and left the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He was going to take the Philosopher's Stone hidden in the underground room, right now!

Ivy already knew there were two ways to get into the room with the Mirror of Erised. One of them was a shortcut to the headmaster's office, but he couldn't take that route, so he went to the fourth floor, to the room guarded by the three-headed dog, Fulwei.

The giant three-headed dog remained alert at all times, breathing out foul-smelling hot air through its nose and constantly sniffing around the room.

It, or they, had just seen the door to the room open and then close, but no one came in. At least, they hadn't seen anyone enter. Ivy's Disillusionment Charm was well-used; he had used it to approach many wary magical creatures over a hundred years ago. Now, facing Fulvi the Cerberus was no exception.

He threw a pebble, turned it into a flute, and then made it play by itself.

The moment the first note of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" began to play, Cerberus couldn't wait to let out a huge yawn, and by the time the first measure was finished, the room was filled with deafening snoring.

With a magician's touch, Ivy easily opened the trapdoor and jumped into the boundless darkness without hesitation.

Sensing someone landing on him, the Devil's Web, originating from Professor Sprout's greenhouse, immediately extended its tendrils, coiling towards Ivy. However, the Devil's Web only caught a wisp of air.

That's a 3rd-circle Transmutation spell called Vaporize, which can turn a target into a hazy cloud within an hour and allow it to fly at a speed of 100 feet per minute.

This spell not only works on living beings, but also transforms all the items on those beings, so mages don't need to worry about becoming naked after the spell ends.

Ivy, still in gaseous form, traversed a corridor and entered the room where Professor Flitwick was casting a spell.

At least a thousand glittering keys were flying around the room, but only one could unlock the door. To make things easier for those attempting the challenge, Professor Flitwick had thoughtfully placed three brooms in the corner.

But Ivy wasn't going to use them, nor was he going to use his own Nimbus 2001. He was just a cloud of gas now, which could pass through a tiny keyhole, so this obstacle was useless to him.

Through the narrow keyhole, Ivy entered a room with a floor entirely made of black and white marble tiles, which served as a giant chessboard set up by Professor McGonagall.

The guards placed here are giant black and white chess pieces.

If Professor McGonagall herself were here, Ivy would never have chosen to use the gas form. However, the room currently only contains some dull magical artifacts that could not possibly cause Ivy any harm.

It's unclear how Dumbledore explained the design of these challenges to the professors at the school, but they all unanimously chose methods that allowed for shortcuts. Even if the intruder lacked magical skills, their intelligence alone gave them a real chance to reach the final challenge.

Leaving the giant chessboard behind, Ivy moved on to the next room. Upon entering, Ivy deactivated her gaseous form.

The reason is simple: it stinks here.

Ivy wasn't sure what would happen if the stench mixed with the gas cloud representing his body, but he figured it was best not to try. What if he really did get the troll's stench...?

"Avada Kedavra!" A ghostly green light shot out from Ivy's eyes, instantly robbing the troll of its life force.

Thanks to Professor Quirrell's selfless dedication in the Forbidden Forest, Ivy's wizard level successfully reached 10, and he took the opportunity to figure out how to use the Eye Spell to cast wizard spells.

However, for a master of dark magic like him, that "melon-eating" was merely wandless spellcasting. Only when he could abandon incantations could he truly combine the two. After all, the specialization of eye magic actually involves preparing the necessary incantations, gestures, and materials in advance, placing the magic in the eyes as a kind of seal, essentially treating the eyes as reusable spell scrolls.

It's still quite a distance from the Magic Eye Ivy envisioned. However, Ivy believes she'll be able to complete it soon.

Enveloped in a bubble by the Bubble Head Charm, Ivy passed by the dead troll and entered the room set up by Snape.

"A variant of the Fiendfyre curse?" Ivy examined the black fire portal before her. Snape was indeed a brilliant wizard; while weakening the Fiendfyre curse's effects, he had given it a more stable form and a weakness that could be countered by fire-resistant potions. It was practically an unconventional treatise on dark magic.

Transforming into a vapor form wouldn't protect him from this kind of magical damage, and Ivy hadn't yet learned the spell to transform into a fire elemental form, so after doing a little reasoning, he chose the smallest of the seven bottles.

The icy liquid went down his throat, and Ivy arrived at the level he had set up.

He extended his finger and gently touched it, and the dynamic landscape painting transformed into a stone gate made of gold threads—he wouldn't be stumped by the puzzle he set for himself.

There's one last challenge: the Mirror of Eris.

"The Philosopher's Stone." The image of it flashed through Ivy's mind: a bright red, unremarkable stone.

Immediately afterwards, Ivy saw herself in the mirror creating countless amounts of gold with the Philosopher's Stone and indulging in the pleasures of endless life.

Those who covet the Philosopher's Stone will never actually see it.