From Hogwarts to Sturhaven

"Neither!" Hermione elbowed them in the ribs, making them crouch down in pain at the classroom doorway. "If I see you cheating again, I'll personally report you to Professor McGonagall! Understand?"

Ron, clutching his ribs, was about to speak when he felt Harry tug at his sleeve. He looked up and saw Professor Victor standing expressionlessly at the classroom door. It seemed that in the time it took to exchange a few words, they had already come down the stairs to the examination room.

“I think I heard ‘cheating’? Miss Granger?” Ivy asked with a mischievous grin, preparing to scare the three little ones.

"€€€€!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise, quickly raising her voice, "We were just joking... Professor Victor. May I come in?"

Harry and Ron felt Professor Victor's gaze sweeping back and forth across their faces. Before sweat dripped from their foreheads, he slowly said, "Go in, you three."

During the following exams, Harry and Ron were on pins and needles, because every three to five minutes, Professor Victor would step down from the podium and hover around them. He would either let his heels click on the floor or stare at their exam papers for a long time, then shake his head and sigh almost imperceptibly.

Professor Victor left a few mannequins to patrol in his place and went out to check the situation after all the students in the examination room felt the floor shake.

Chapter 123 Temporary Examiner

The first-year history of magic exam is the last written exam of exam week.

Logically, by the time the History of Magic exams are held in the first year, the practical part of the Defense Against the Dark Arts exams for OWLs and NEWT should have already been finished.

However, due to the frequent problems that occurred in the examination room this year, the practical exams for fifth and seventh grade students have been postponed.

As Ivy stepped into the hallway, preparing to approach the stairs to see what was going on, Professor McGonagall strode over.

“Professor Victor!” Professor McGonagall called out as soon as she saw Ivy. “Please go to classroom number eleven on the first floor. The practical exams for OWLs and NEWT’s Defense Against the Dark Arts are being held there. The examiners may need a little help.”

“The history of magic…” Ivy turned her head to look at the classroom behind her, where all the first-year students were writing furiously, including Ivy herself.

“I’ll proctor the exam,” Professor McGonagall answered crisply. Once she was beside Ivy, she added in a very low voice, “It’s about the Pyroblast spell… The students have already eliminated a Hinkpunk, a Swamp Red Hat, and a Boggart. The review panel has used up all their backup plans…”

“But I’m not some kind of dark magic creature. Even if I went to the exam hall, what help could I offer?” Ivy asked.

"They're considering making Pyroblast a bonus point this year; any student who can cast it will at least pass. As for the final grade and the content related to dark magic creatures... they haven't reached a conclusion yet." Professor McGonagall gave an encouraging smile. "Dumbledore inviting you to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts was truly the wisest decision he ever made. Just treat the exams as classes. I have a feeling, Professor Victor, that this year's average Defense Against the Dark Arts grade will be the highest in decades."

“Okay, I understand.” Ivy nodded, walked down the stairs, and left the magic history exam room on the third floor.

"You must be Professor Victor, right?" As soon as Ivy entered classroom number eleven on the first floor, a wizard with hardly any hair left on his head struck up a conversation with him. "Your fireball spell was incredibly creative! Oh, and I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Professor Toford, the examiner."

"Hello, Professor Toford." Ivy followed Professor Toford into the temporary examination room for Defense Against the Dark Arts. The room was completely unrecognizable. In the center of the room was a charred corner of wood. Perhaps not long ago, it was a complete cabinet.

Ivy guessed that it once contained a Boggart, those dark magical creatures that could reveal people's inner fears and loved to hide in dark, narrow corners.

Guided by Professor Topherdy, Ivy met the examiners from the Wizarding Examinations Authority. They were generally quite old, including a witch who was incredibly old—Grossdale Marchban, who was said to have proctored Dumbledore's Transfiguration exams. By all accounts, she must have been at least over a hundred years old.

"Your Fireball spell was absolutely amazing!" Just like Professor Machiban's spirit, her voice was loud. Ivy was familiar with this demeanor—a sprightly, hard-of-hearing old woman.

“It blasted our protective cabinet to smithereens,” Professor Toford added, gesturing for Ivy to look at the black spots and wooden debris in the center of the classroom. “We have no more dark magic creatures left for the exam, Professor Victor. Do you have any teaching aids that haven’t been used?”

“I’m sorry.” Ivy noticed that the examiners’ expressions didn’t change much; perhaps they had already heard rumors from Professor McGonagall about his classes.

“Alright, alright,” Professor Toford muttered. “Although we’d heard about it before, we still had a glimmer of hope, since you’re only temporarily teaching this not-so-safe course.”

“We would like to invite you to be the temporary examiner for this exam!” Professor Marchban, who had been sitting in the examiner’s seat, stood up. “Although OWLs and NEWT’s Defense Against the Dark Arts are two sets of practical exam questions, I’m afraid that even if you brought OWLs’ dark magic creatures here, your students would blow them to pieces. That poor Boggart was the work of a fifth-year student.”

"A fifth-grade student?" Ivy raised an eyebrow. "I remember only teaching this spell to seventh-grade students. How did he learn it?"

“Really?” Professor Marchban looked surprised. “I remember his name, Mr. Weasley, Percy Weasley.”

Ivy narrowed her eyes. This was definitely a phenomenon worth studying. As a spell invented by Ivy herself, Fireball had a completely different casting logic from ordinary spells. If one did not have a certain understanding of its spell model, it would be impossible to cast it successfully.

But now someone has actually done it. Could it be that "belief" can really bridge the gap between two worldviews? Or is it that as Ivy casts her spell, magical power from the D&D universe is beginning to influence this wizarding world?

Will something like a "magic net" or a "shadow magic net" appear in the future?

The term "Magic Network," literally meaning "magical network," is an important component of the Wizards of the Coast's D&D universe regarding magic. However, due to Wizards of the Coast's multi-author collaborative model, retconning between novels and setting books is commonplace. Even Ivy himself doesn't quite understand it.

However, there is no problem with the fact that the "Magic Network" is the source of magic for many worlds under the Kingdom's Sky.

In worlds with a normal magic network, spellcasting by mages has a fixed outcome; as long as the resources invested are sufficient, the spell will definitely be successful. However, in places where the magic network is either too inactive or too active, mages will encounter difficulties when casting spells. For example, a wild surge of magical elemental energy might alter the original spell's structure, resulting in a completely different spell being cast; or magical power might be suppressed by some inertial ability, increasing the difficulty of casting spells, causing even simple arcane spells to consume more resources.

Ivy's current casting method is a combination of "preparing a spell" and "consuming a spell slot." In short, she treats spell slots as a fixed casting resource, making her, in a sense, a mana-based mage.

To illustrate this using the phenomenal MMORPG World of Warcraft as an example, preparing a spell is the process of dragging the skill from the spellbook to the hotkey. The higher a mage's intelligence and spellcaster level, the more hotkey slots they have, and the more spells they can prepare to deal with emergencies.

Spell slots can be roughly viewed as a limited mana bar. One level 1 spell slot is equivalent to one point of mana, and a level 2 spell slot is equivalent to two points of mana, but spell slots cannot be converted to each other. A level 1 spell slot can only be used to cast level 1 spells, while a level 2 spell slot can be used to cast both level 1 and level 2 spells. When the number of spell slots consumed by casting a spell exceeds the minimum number of spell slots originally required, an upgrade effect occurs, enhancing the spell's effect on top of the original spell.

In some worlds with strict magical network control, casting spells is like writing reports and submitting applications. Mages must communicate with the magic network every morning, planning in advance what spells they will cast that day and how many times each spell will be cast. Without special expertise or class characteristics, mages can only gaze longingly at the spell lists. This greatly limits their adaptability, making sorcerers who can cast spells spontaneously far more advantageous in such worlds.

Although she was now in the HP world, Ivy felt no resistance from the world when casting D&D spells. Perhaps it was because Ivy, as a wizard whose spellcasting attribute was Charisma, naturally cast spells in a way that was closer to a sorcerer's spontaneous spellcasting, and even after becoming a Scrivener, she did not change her spellcasting style.

Of course, it's also possible that the magical power in the HP world is primitive and peaceful, untouched by the destruction and defilement of certain individuals with ulterior motives.

Ivy still has plenty of time to investigate Percy Weasley's matter; the most important thing now is to help the examiners complete the OWLs and NEWT's Defense Against the Dark Arts practical exams.

Chapter 124 Conversation by the Black Lake

"The practical exam for Defense Against the Dark Arts consists of three parts: a defense spell, a curse-breaking spell, and facing a dark magical creature. Now that the dark magical creatures have been completely destroyed by the seventh-year students, we would like to ask you to serve as the temporary examiner for the final exam," Professor Machiban explained.

“What do I need to do?” Ivy didn’t quite understand the significance of his presence here. Just as he had told Professor McGonagall, he was at most a heinous dark wizard, but not a dark magical creature.

“We’ve decided to examine the spell you taught your students, Fireball,” Professor Machiban said loudly. “But we’re all old and frail, and your spell seems to have a very special power. Even the Ironclad Charm can’t completely deflect it; instead, it explodes on the protective layer formed by the Ironclad Charm, forcing us to frequently apply protection to the area. It’s really a task beyond our capabilities.”

"So all I need to do is protect the site?" Ivy nodded. "That's not too difficult."

Ivy pulled out her wand, pointed it at the ground, and said, "Ultimate Armor."

The golden protective shield quickly filled the entire room, and then Ivy conjured up some wooden targets, just like in a Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Ivy nodded in satisfaction and said, "I think this will work. They won't cause too much damage. If there's nothing else, I'll be leaving now."

“Thank you, Professor Victor. Aren’t you really going to stay and watch the exam?” Professor Marchban asked. “We would also like to invite you to join the Wizarding Examinations Authority! If you can use a beautiful Patronus Charm, even Wizengamot would invite you. I am one of their senior members, and we welcome the most talented white wizards in the world. Of course, you may have to pass the bar exam first, since it is a judicial institution.”

Wizengamor, the highest court of magic in Britain, is also one of the largest white wizarding organizations in the world.

The word Wizengamot is derived from Wizard and Witenagemot, and it was an ancient institution with both legislative and judicial powers.

With the Ministry of Magic having more and more functional departments, Wizengamot is more of a symbolic organization, where only cases with widespread public attention are tried, such as those concerning the Death Eaters.

The members of Wizengamo are all elderly wizards, and they are generally invited by invitation only. Perhaps it was Professor Machiban's beard and the nasolabial folds on his face that led him to believe that Professor Victor was a qualified wizard to enter Wizengamo.

“No, thank you, Professor Marchban.” Ivy politely declined the formal invitation. “If there’s nothing else, I won’t bother you any longer.”

“It’s a real shame.” Professor Machiban shook his head. “There’s one last thing. Your invention, Pyroblast, is perhaps too useful. We estimate that it will be listed as a required but prohibited spell in the next OWLs and NEWT exams, especially when facing dark magic creatures.”

“Our exam questions can’t withstand this kind of strain, after all, the ministry’s funding is limited,” Professor Toford joked.

"Whatever. Anyway, I won't be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts next school year." Ivy could understand the Wizarding Examinations Authority's decision.

After all, as a universal solution for the NEWT exam, Pyroblast is far too versatile. Most common dark magic creatures cannot withstand such a spectacular explosion with its impressive visual and auditory effects. Even tough monsters like werewolves and trolls can't withstand more than a few explosions, not to mention that fire damage can effectively suppress their self-healing abilities.

With Professor McGonagall proctoring the History of Magic exam and the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam venue rearranged, Ivy finally had some free time. He felt a sense of relief at being able to shed the professor's cloak.

“Professor Victor.” Ivy turned her head and saw Dumbledore, the white-bearded old man who rarely appeared, standing at the entrance of the Great Hall, winking at him.

Dumbledore never visits unless he has a reason, so his sudden call to him must mean something bad.

"You seem to have some free time. Would you mind showing me around?" Dumbledore smiled kindly, but Ivy narrowed her eyes.

However, considering that the semester was about to end, Ivy still kept up with him.

The two arrived at the Black Lake under the June sun. A giant squid was lazily lying on a large rock, sunbathing, occasionally splashing water on itself.

Ivy wasn't sure if mollusks needed to bask in the sun, but it was clear that giant squid wouldn't suffer from skin cancer.

"How's Hagrid's dragon? I remember its name was Noberta?" the white-bearded old man suddenly asked. "Did you send it away?"

Ivy glanced at him. It seemed that avoiding all the portraits was the right choice. Ivy had long suspected that the portraits in the castle were the headmaster's spies: "It's still in the castle. I'm taking good care of it, and it's growing very fast. However, a dragon is a magical creature that needs the sky, and I'm working hard to give it a sky big enough to fly in again."

"Ah, so Lucius Malfoy really did submit that plan to the Ministry of Magic at your behest?" Although it was a question, there was little surprise in Dumbledore's voice.

Ivy nodded. He wasn't surprised that Dumbledore knew about it. Although he hadn't discussed it at Hogwarts Castle, he had still used Hogwarts' communication system—the owl messengers. Now, he knew another way the headmaster gathered intelligence.

“I must remind you, Ivy Lucius was once a Death Eater.” Dumbledore’s voice carried a hint of solemnity.

“He is now. But before he became a Death Eater, he was first and foremost a Slytherin,” Ivy replied casually. “I’ve seen the Dark Mark on his hand. An interesting spell. Although he’s lost most of his power, Voldemort is still alive.”

“Alas…” Dumbledore sighed. “Tom’s arrogance and pride make him unable to resist manipulating forces beyond his control. I hope you will take heed, Ivy. I have always believed that love is the greatest magic in the world.”

“My view remains the same,” Ivy said. “Extreme emotions bring extreme power, and Voldemort’s fear of death is one example. When he cast the Killing Curse on me, I could smell the stench of fear emanating from him.”

“I can’t convince you,” Dumbledore shook his head. “However, I often observe your Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. They are truly brilliant. Forgive me for not being able to think of more words of praise. If you graduate, I will certainly ask you to stay on as a teacher.”

“Thank you. But I have no interest in dealing with a bunch of kids all the time,” Ivy replied. He might be somewhat interested in teaching a leisurely elective at Hogwarts, but compulsory courses like Defense Against the Dark Arts were out of the question.

“Hahaha, they certainly know how to cause trouble.” Dumbledore laughed, his white beard trembling. “Honestly, I never imagined Slytherin and Gryffindor could work together, let alone in such a common way. You’ve shown me their potential. I must say thank you.”

“I never imagined that the divisions between Hogwarts schools would not only not lessen more than a hundred years later, but would actually become more serious.” Ivy smiled as well.

"Perhaps we haven't paid enough attention to this," Dumbledore said with a self-deprecating laugh.

That makes sense; the Hogwarts professors have incredibly busy schedules, so they don't really have time to care about the students' mental health.

"Is there anything else? If not, I'm going to enjoy some personal time." Ivy didn't like chatting with an elderly man about trivial matters by the lake, so she prepared to say goodbye and leave.

No sooner had Ivy finished speaking than Dumbledore opened his palm toward him.

"What does this mean?" Ivy asked, somewhat confused.

“The Philosopher’s Stone,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “I never expected you could retrieve it from the Mirror of Eris, but now that you have, it proves you have no desire for it. I think a few months should be enough for you to figure out its secrets. Now, it is to be returned to its rightful owner.”

Ivy blinked; he had long since forgotten about it. The key issue was that the Philosopher's Stone had already entered his stomach, and the physical Philosopher's Stone had completely disappeared. The mystery surrounding the Philosopher's Stone had also been completely transformed into the Philosopher's Stone by him.

Chapter 125 Compensation Options