Bring a fairy tale to Hogwarts!

A few minutes later, half of the students put down their pens and fell into a state of confusion and bewilderment.

Some Muggle students, staring at the grayish-white mist, felt as if they were back in their elementary school classroom, while their literature teacher excitedly shouted from the podium: "What does this sentence symbolize? What does it symbolize?!"

And their answer has never changed—

I don't know!

To them, the gray mist had no shape at all; in fact, it was so dense that they couldn't even make out the shape of its edges and corners.

One student couldn't help but voice their thoughts: "There were no crows or sun... I only saw the troll's vomit..."

"Gryffindor loses two points."

"Victor said expressionlessly."

The student immediately shut his mouth, dejected, and lost the right to continue complaining.

But what they found even harder to accept was that while they lacked talent, there were others who were exceptionally talented.

Take Fred and George, for example. They were actually quite good at this. Almost the instant the smoke appeared, they tilted their heads and gestured a few times, then 'swish, swish, swish,' filled in the answers they wanted on the test paper.

Lee Jordan couldn't help but ask, "Wait, man, I saw you chose C for the first question. How did you figure out that the smoke was shaped like a crow?"

"That's obvious."

George, however, said matter-of-factly, pointing to the ever-changing edges and center of the smoke.

"Look, the corners of the mist have shifting edges, looking like a raven's feathers, and at the end closest to the flame, there's a constantly flashing purple light, like a raven's eye. Doesn't the shape become clear at a glance?"

Lee Jordan put his finger on his eyes, even prying his eyelids open to look for a while, and finally came to a conclusion:

"Fred, are you suffering from smoke inhalation? It's clearly a circle there."

"...My name is George. You're the one who got smoke poisoning."

Similar scenes were actually happening in every corner of the classroom. Some students could always point out shapes in the smoke, while other students, even if they looked closely according to what the students said, could not see the same shapes.

In fact, this was exactly the effect Victor wanted.

Because many untalented young wizards will not achieve anything even if they force themselves to learn—divination is a magic that relies on talent, and if you can't see the future, you simply can't see it.

By persuading them to withdraw now, we can save the students time and also save him some time.

Back to reality, after some time, seeing that the students had almost finished writing, Victor calmly clapped his hands and repeated one sentence:

"Alright, next question."

The students' voices were a mix of sighs and gasps, clearly distinguishing two groups. This made a small group of students even more upset.

Victor ignored them and instead took out some more green lettuce and threw it into the fire, letting the students watch it burn to ashes.

He said something to the flames:

"Let the flames shine, let the light of the past reappear, glimpse the secrets of time, and reveal the true face."

But just as everyone was intently watching the fog, a young wizard from Hufflepuff suddenly raised his hand. His face was somewhat childish, but handsome enough to be seen, with black hair and eyes, and a composed demeanor.

"What's your name?"

"Cedric Diggory, Professor," Cedric said politely, "I think there's a problem with the options for question five, and I'd like to confirm it with you again."

As he spoke, the students around him glanced at the question again. The previous question was the fifth one, which asked: "In predicting what poses the greatest threat to you this semester, what pattern do you see?"

The options are a black dog, a pigeon, a sheep, and a skeleton.

Cedric tried to explain:

"I could vaguely see the shape of fabric in the floating mist, no matter how many times I looked at it. It had folds and wrinkles, and it seemed to be wrapping something... I really saw it. But this answer wasn't among the options."

Victor raised his eyebrows slightly and looked Cedric over carefully once more.

"...I'm sorry, Professor, did I misspoke?"

"No, quite the opposite, Mr. Cedric," Victor said. "You can write down what you see below this question to add another option."

Cedric breathed a sigh of relief, still somewhat incredulous that he had been let off so easily.

After all, Victor's behavior was not much different from Snape's. He originally thought that Victor would deduct ten points from his house because he questioned the textbook without permission.

But he didn't voice his inner thoughts, so after he sat down, he heard Victor say:

"By the way, Cedric, if you want to join the club in the future, you can also consider fortune telling. You have the potential to go further down this path."

……

When the class ended, only half of the students were able to maintain their previous mood, while the other half walked forward with their heads down, silent, as if the excitement belonged only to Cedric and his classmates.

Even after entering the classroom for the next transformation lesson, these students remained in this state.

This was the first lesson of the third grade. Following the normal teaching process, Professor McGonagall began to talk about the Animagus and asked the students to try transforming into an animal again to experience the details of animal transformation.

The four Gryffindors were grouped together for practice: Angelina, Lee Jordan, Fred, and George.

As Fred transformed the button into a beetle, he said, "I've heard that Animagus leaves are also very helpful for divination, a Hufflepuff student told me that..."

"Yeah, do you think we should go to Professor Sprout's greenhouse tonight and steal a couple of leaves? I heard they only planted a few mandrakes this year."

"Maybe we can use it to learn seventh-grade skills."

But they were met with silence.

"What's wrong, buddy?" George couldn't help but ask again.

After being asked twice, Angelina couldn't help but look up from her button-buttoning. She was a pretty, dark-skinned girl, a member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, cheerful and beautiful, but at this moment, the corners of her eyes were a little red.

"I don't think you should keep bringing this up, Fred," Angelina's voice was a little hoarse. "You guys are the only ones who solved those problems, while we couldn't understand a single one."