From Hogwarts to Sturhaven

Although it's called Pyroblast, this spell is actually less powerful than the classic 3rd-level Fireball spell from D&D, mainly because its area of ​​effect is smaller. However, as a spell that any wizard can cast, Pyroblast has good versatility. Whether it's these seventh-year students or the professors at Hogwarts Castle, everyone can cast this spell, and its power increases as the user's skill improves.

Simply put, it's like a fireball spell with different versions of power ranging from 2nd to 6th level. Although Ivy often secretly thinks Hogwarts is a vocational school for magic, he's not so incapable of training a wizard who can even cast a 2nd-level spell.

Although wizarding and sorcerer magic are completely different things, there are still some similar spells that complement each other. For example, the wizard's Flurry and the sorcerer's Dance of Light are both simple and easy-to-understand spells; the former is textbook material for first-year students, while the latter is a sorcerer's zero-level trick.

For example, both the Disillusionment Charm and Greater Invisibility can achieve invisibility. However, the Disillusionment Charm's invisibility effect varies depending on the wizard's spellcasting ability, while the 4th-circle spell Greater Invisibility is more stable. Once you learn it, there's no reason why you can't cast it.

Of course, this isn't to say that wizards' spells are entirely without merit; at least "Avada Kedavra" is one of Ivy's favorite spells. Similarly, spells with instant-death effects in the hands of D&D wizards include the 7th-circle necromancy spell Finger of Death and the 9th-circle bewitching spell Command Death.

The former requires a check after hitting the target, while the latter only works on targets with low health. As a finishing move, it is quite effective, but the requirement of spending a 9th-level spell slot is too high. It would be better to use other evocation spells to kill the opponent.

"Pyroblast!"

With successful examples, students who learned the Fireball Technique appeared one after another. Just like before Bolt broke the 10-second barrier in the 100 meters, everyone thought that was the limit of human physical ability, but after Bolt accomplished this feat of breaking the limit, other people in the world who could run under 10 seconds began to become more common.

In just a short while, the training dummies that Ivy conjured up were no longer enough, and several large, dark craters with blue smoke appeared on the lawn.

"Hey! What are you doing!" An old man emerged from the forbidden forest, puffing out his beard and glaring, waving his fake hand in protest.

“Professor Celticburn?” Ivy tilted her head. “I remember I already applied for this space with Professor McGonagall.”

"McGrady?" The old man muttered upon hearing the name, but he immediately forgot about Professor McGonagall's stern face, since she wasn't there anyway. "Whatever you're doing! Keep it down! The noise you're making is scaring my little darling!"

"Sweetheart?" Ivy had a bad feeling.

“A sphinx! Of course!” Professor Celtburn’s anger vanished at the mention of magical creatures, replaced by a smile. “They’re still small. I plan to wait until they’re a bit bigger before trying to breed even cuter magical creatures. Hagrid suggested trying with fire crabs, but it will take quite a while for them to grow up, so this task might fall to him.”

"I don't recall Hogwarts having a license to breed sphinxes..." Sphinxes are a type of magical creature, extremely dangerous.

"The Ministry of Magic will issue it sooner or later!" Professor Celticburn seemed unconcerned. "Anyway, I've already been placed on probation so many times, one more time won't make a difference."

“Alright… For the students’ safety, I’ll use a silencing spell to stop the noise from disturbing your ‘little cutie’…” Although Ivy herself wasn’t afraid of the underage Sphinx, the students might not be.

Therefore, ceasing to make noise and disturb the creatures resting in the forbidden forest is clearly the best solution.

Chapter 121 The Noisy Exam Week

Inside the Gryffindor common room.

Neville Longbottom, his head steaming, crawled out of the portrait of the fat lady, tears streaming down his face, sobbing.

This wasn't the first time he'd run into the common room like this. Normally, people might have laughed at him, but with final exams approaching, everyone was cramming, including Harry and Ron.

"What's wrong with you, Neville?" Ron, who was daydreaming while studying, sniffed out the lively atmosphere. "Hermione! Look at him, his head is smoking!"

Hermione, with a stern face, put down her history of magic textbook, pulled Neville over, and sat down with Harry and Ron.

“What spell set Neville’s hair on fire?” Hermione said with certainty. “I don’t know if I can help… Clear Water.”

The sparks on Neville's head went out, leaving a foul, burnt smell in the air.

“Malfoy…” Neville’s voice trembled slightly, “I ran into him outside the library… He had a little dragon breathe fire and set my hat on fire… My head almost caught fire too.”

"Little Dragon?" Ron was sensitive to that word; just hearing it made his fingers ache. "Could it be Ivy..."

“It was Ivy who made the dragon model before Christmas!” Harry whispered. “I remember he gave that little ceramic dragon to Malfoy after he came back from the Malfoy family manor!”

Harry always remembered things about his enemies so clearly, whether it was Voldemort or Malfoy.

“That’s really unfair…” Ron said in a low voice, clearly wanting a flying, fire-breathing dragon model as well.

"Mainly because we don't have a dad who can give us seven Nimbus 2001s." Harry shrugged, still remembering Gryffindor's crushing defeat after Christmas. Since then, not only has Wood stopped talking about training so often, but Professor McGonagall has never mentioned the word "Quidditch" again.

“We need to find a way to stand up for Neville!” Ron nodded emphatically. He also believed that Malfoy was just a guy who looked arrogant but was actually just bluffing.

"There's only a week left until the final exams! What are you two thinking?" Hermione couldn't believe what her two friends were saying. She turned to Neville, who was still sobbing (or maybe Hermione's Clear Water was dripping down his head), and said, "Tell Professor McGonagall! Tell him!"

Neville shook his head.

“I don’t want to cause any more trouble… Hermione’s right, exams are coming up… This might be my last week at Hogwarts…” Neville suddenly broke down, bursting into tears, “I absolutely cannot pass my final exams… Waaaaah…”

“You must be brave enough to face him, Neville!” Ron put his hands on Neville’s shoulders and patted him hard. “We have no reason to give in to him! He’s just a sycophant! He’s like a balloon that’ll burst at the slightest touch!”

“You don’t need to tell me I’m too cowardly to be in Gryffindor. Malfoy already said that to me,” Neville said, choking back tears.

“You’re better than a dozen Malfoys!” Harry reached into his robe pocket and rummaged around, but there was nothing there. With the weather getting warmer, just putting chocolate in his pocket would only turn it into a sticky puddle.

"The Sorting Hat sorted you into Gryffindor, didn't it? Where's Malfoy?" Harry wanted to say something insulting about Slytherin, but then he thought of Ivy and stopped himself. "Unlikable Slytherin. You deserve Gryffindor, I believe you!"

Neville cried even louder, drawing the attention of everyone in the common room. Being watched wasn't pleasant, especially by so many people. Harry resisted the urge to run away and gave Neville a hug.

“Thank you. Thank you… Harry! I will prove that I am worthy of Gryffindor! Thank you!” Neville seemed much better, wiping away his tears as he repeated his thanks.

"I'm going to sleep now... Good luck with your studies." Neville went upstairs, and as he turned around, the trio saw his school uniform hat, which was burned and torn to shreds.

"Malfoy is a despicable bastard," Ron gritted his teeth. "We must find a chance to teach him a lesson!"

Harry nodded, about to make some grand pronouncements, when he was interrupted by Hermione's serious gaze.

"Not now." Hermione looked equally angry. "Final exams are clearly more important! And there's the House Cup!"

"Are you serious, Hermione?" Ron asked, his eyes wide. "Malfoys are already bullying Gryffindor, and you're telling us to just sit idly by? Besides, we haven't had a point deduction for three months!"

“Those that Snape deducted don’t count,” Harry added immediately.

“That’s right! Those don’t count.” Ron bumped fists with Harry and continued, “And speaking of the House Cup, ever since Ivy led Slytherin to victory against us, nothing has been able to stop Slytherin from defending their title. Besides, there’s Snape! I can’t think of any reason why they lost!”

"Don't even think about it," said the mother bird. "You didn't lose any Gryffindor points under my supervision. Besides, you'll have a week to play wildly after the final exams."

“Hermione is right,” Harry suddenly said, looking at Ron. “The end of the final exams means the end of the school year, and then Professor McGonagall will have no reason to deduct points from us anymore.”

“Alright then.” Ron drew out his words, but still agreed with Harry. If his grades weren’t good enough, Mrs. Weasley might skin him alive, not to mention he had five much better brothers.

And so, exam week arrived quickly.

The weather was unbearably hot, especially in the classrooms where the exams were being held. The professors gave them anti-cheating quills and walked around the exam hall until a loud bang shook the entire castle.

Harry and his friends were taking a written exam on Transfiguration, and the proctor was Professor Sprout, who always had a kind smile on her face. She had obviously heard the unusual commotion.

So, while the professor left the exam room to check what had happened, Harry quickly winked at Ron beside him, wanting to compare answers regarding Gump's basic transfiguration rules. Although Hermione coughed loudly twice, hoping to awaken their consciences, after glancing towards the door, the two resolutely started comparing answers.

Then they sadly discovered that, regarding this question, not a single answer on their test papers was the same.

Chapter 122 Backup Exam Questions

“It’s unbelievable!” The examiners were clustered in the hallway. They all looked quite old and had probably been doing this job for a long time. “I’ve never seen anything like this in OWLs exams, let alone in recent decades.”

The written and practical parts of OWLs and NEWT are conducted in two separate time slots. The practical part of Defense Against the Dark Arts overlaps with the first-year Transfiguration written test.

"What happened?" Professor Sprout asked. "I think I heard a loud noise?"

“Oh! Professor Sprout,” said a wrinkled, balding wizard, Professor Toford, the examiner for NEWT Defence Against the Dark Arts. “Rest assured, no one was injured. Except for Hinkpunk, who was used as an exam prop.”

"Oh dear!" Professor Sprout exclaimed, "You just blurted out the exam question like that?"

Besides the examiners from OWLs and NEWT, there were many fifth and seventh graders waiting in the hallway. After all, both of these exams are individual and don't test teamwork.

The students in the corridor exchanged glances and began rummaging through their minds for information about this dark magic creature.

Hinkpunks are one-legged creatures that appear to be formed from condensed smoke. They look quite fragile and harmless, but they hide in misty forests, luring travelers into their traps. If you see a ghostly blue light flickering in a deserted forest, it is very likely a Hinkpunk; often, Muggles refer to them as will-o'-the-wisps.

"Now we have to use the backup plan!" Professor Toford said with a helpless look. "We never expected that a student would blow up a cloud of fog."

"Who is the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts this year?" Professor Toford asked Professor Sprout. "That student didn't even move his lips, he just waved his wand and made a mess of the exam room. Maybe we need to change the exam room."

As they were talking, several other examiners walked out of the door behind Professor Toford. They all looked rather unwell; clearly, the heat and shockwave from the close-range explosion were enough to give them a hard time, not to mention the noise that could be heard throughout the entire castle.

“Professor Toford! Do you know what he told me?” A thin, elderly woman dragged a student out of the exam room. Judging from the badge on his uniform, he was a Gryffindor. “He said his whole class knows that spell! Their professor told them, ‘If you’re facing a dark magical creature that you don’t understand at first, then blow it up with this spell!’”

"This is really...this is really..." The old lady's lips trembled a few times. Finally, she loosened her grip on the seventh-year Gryffindor's robe, shook her head, and left. It seemed that the examiners all needed a rest.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor; it was Professor McGonagall, who was proctoring exams in other rooms. I wondered who she had assigned to proctor the exams in her place.

“Professor McGonagall!” Professor Topherdy, with his thinning hair, called out as soon as he saw her. “I think the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam must be postponed by half an hour… no… preferably an hour. We need to rearrange the exam room and prepare alternative questions.”

“Oh, I see.” Professor McGonagall peeked into the former examination room, nodded calmly, then opened a new waiting room and beckoned the students in the corridor to go in. “Go in and rest a bit, kids. It seems our examiner has run into a little trouble. The examination room will be moved to classroom number eleven on the first floor. Don’t worry, you will all be able to finish the exam today.”

“That’s right, that’s right!” Professor Toford agreed. “Our Wizarding Examinations Authority has extensive experience in dealing with emergencies, and we have backup plans. Luckily, we have backup plans.”

His last words were spoken very softly, but Professor McGonagall, who was standing next to her, heard them clearly.

"Goodbye, Professor McGonagall," Professor Topherdy said goodbye to Professor McGonagall. "I know where classroom number eleven is; we'll arrange the space ourselves."

After the last tuft of hair on Professor Topherdy's head disappeared down the stairs, Professor McGonagall shook her head and whispered, "Hopefully you have enough backup plans..."

“Minerva,” Professor Sprout said, “where is our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor? He’d be overjoyed to see this.”

“Hard to say.” Professor McGonagall smiled. “As far as I know, Professor Victor is always strict. Two weeks before the exam, he even had his students turn over the vegetable garden on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.” Professor McGonagall gestured toward the messy former exam hall. “Use that spell. By the way, he’s on the third floor right now, proctoring the second-year History of Magic exam.”

"Hehe~" Professor Sprout laughed, his dimples widening on his round face. "I should head back now. I expect to get a good score on this year's Transfiguration exam."

"Good luck, Minerva," Professor Sprout said before entering the room.

“You too, Pomona,” Professor McGonagall replied.

An hour later, the Gryffindor trio got into an argument on their way to the History of Magic exams.

"Did you even listen to what I said?" Hermione asked angrily. After previous exams, she would try to find Harry and Ron to check their answers, subtly letting them know how many questions they got wrong. But after the Transfiguration exam, she didn't do that.

Simply because Harry and Ron committed "outrageous, unforgivable, heinous, and blasphemous cheating" in the exam room.

"Which sentence did you say?" Ron tried to bluff his way out, quickening his pace as he knew that once inside the exam hall, Hermione would focus entirely on the test paper.

"Don't cause trouble, and don't lose points for Gryffindor?" Harry quickly added. He and Ron already had a good understanding, especially when it came to dealing with Hermione.