Bring a fairy tale to Hogwarts!

Time passed quickly as he secretly observed the students and professors.

Apart from Professor McGonagall starting to wonder why she hadn't seen Peeves in a long time, Professor Dumbledore looking at Victor several times as if he wanted to say something but hesitated, and Snape mentioning that "the Malfoys seem to want to talk to you," everything else was normal.

Victor is relatively satisfied with his current life, which he is just getting by.

After all, there are no churches or priests coming to cause trouble under normal circumstances, and the mage tower won't disappear when he comes back from a trip due to kingdom wars or anything like that.

October.

As Halloween approaches, the air in the school is getting colder, and the windproof charms on the cloaks are working all day long, so wizards don't have to go out dressed like balls.

It was Friday evening, and the last divination class of the week was in progress.

The dim sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the small wisps of white mist that appeared with each exhale of the students.

This time, the students in class are fifth graders. Compared to other grades, they are actually the most troublesome—third graders can be screened out with divination tests, sixth and seventh graders can be taught however they want, only fifth graders are the group that actually has to face the OWLs exam.

This also means that even if they learn true divination, they may not be able to get full marks on exams... because true divination rarely yields accurate answers.

Therefore, Victor only prepared to provide exam-oriented education.

Inside the classroom, each student sat obediently at their round table, head down, diligently taking notes on the parchment in front of them. As they wrote, they listened intently to Victor's slow, deliberate words:

"...As I said in the first lesson, I disagree with the content of the OWLs exams in the slightest. I am quite certain that even if you study them, your level will not improve by the slightest, because you simply cannot see those images."

"So, in order to simply pass that meaningless exam, I'll only teach you one thing this school year—"

"Cheating."

Upon hearing this word, the students, who were already writing furiously, became even more excited, filling the classroom with the "scratching" sound of quill pens writing.

Although Victor didn't really understand what was so memorable about it.

Amidst the sound of writing, a burly Gryffindor boy raised his hand high.

"Speak, Mr. Wood."

"Professor, I've heard that cheating in OWLs exams is a violation of the Wizarding Law, and in serious cases, it can even lead to being thrown into Azkaban." Wood's expression was somewhat puzzled.

“Indeed,” Victor nodded. “I’m glad you’ve at least studied wizarding magic.”

"Mr. Wood is right. According to the Wizarding Law, students who plagiarize, cheat, or cheat in groups during important exams like OWLs and NEWT will be punished for 'unfair competition' and 'disrupting the examination order,' facing consequences such as suspension, expulsion, or even three days of detention in Azkaban."

"Therefore, I absolutely do not recommend that you engage in any of the listed violations."

The students below looked even more puzzled.

If you don't use cheat sheets or plagiarism, what other ways are there to cheat?

Victor clearly sensed their confusion, paused for a moment, and then conjured a line of text in the air with his wand:

Legal cheating methods.

Then he turned his head.

"Just like I wrote, everyone," Victor said calmly, taking in the students' confused yet excited expressions. "Besides low-level cheating methods like using cheat sheets, we can also choose to exploit loopholes in the law and cheat openly in areas where there are no regulations."

"For example—how many of you have ever tried using dice to determine the answers to multiple-choice questions during an exam?"

Immediately, many hands went up, including Wood's, who had just asked the question.

"very good."

Victor nodded, gesturing for them to put their hands down.

"Obviously, rolling dice during an exam is not against the rules."

"Similarly, other unconventional ways of answering questions that don't violate the rules include: selecting whichever answer is pointed to by a quill pen, guessing a seemingly correct one based on intuition, and judging which question is most likely based on its length."

"These all fall under the category of divination."

"Although the last one is more arithmetic and divination, with proper training, you can all greatly improve the accuracy of these problem-solving methods."

The students' expressions immediately brightened, especially those who didn't do well academically, who all felt that their future was promising.

Victor then changed the subject:

"So why do I call it 'cheating'? It's simple. If you train hard enough and make reasonable use of your clairvoyance, your multiple-choice accuracy can even reach 100%—and divination is the only subject without a practical exam."

"And if you study the test questions in advance, you will be even more surprised to find that there is only one short answer question worth 6 points on the entire test paper. In other words, even if you don't write a single word on that question, you can still receive a report card with an 'O' at the end of the school year."

The students gasped in amazement, their excitement reminiscent of their time learning about Animagus in third grade—when Professor McGonagall transformed herself into a cat and then back. That visceral novelty fueled their sustained motivation to learn Transfiguration.

The same applies to divination.

Although they learned that they couldn't gain the ability to predict the future of the magical world, they were able to get all the exams right!

Is there any need to hesitate?

Amid their excited expressions, Victor leisurely walked back to the front of the classroom and sat down in the recliner left behind by Professor Trelawney, looking quite relaxed.

He waved his wand, and the words floating in front of the classroom changed again.

It turned into three familiar lines of text:

"Aip, Piper, Kaik;"

"Silo, Holo, Haro;"

"Zexi, Zexi, Zeke."

When these white letters appeared, a student who was close to a seventh grader raised his hand and asked:

"Professor, isn't this the spell we learned when we made the pocket watch prophecy in seventh grade? They learned it by holding mandrake leaves in their mouths, right? Can we learn it too?"

As he finished speaking, several students nearby exchanged eager glances—they had learned the magic of pocket watch prophecy from the seventh graders at the beginning of the semester, but had failed because they didn't have any mandrake leaves.

If they could get a piece from the professor, they could try their hand at seventh-grade divination.

But Victor quickly shattered their illusions:

"Unfortunately, there are no mandrake leaves left in the school. The mandrakes in the herbalist classroom have all gone bald. If I try to take them again, Professor Sprout will probably challenge me to a duel."

The good news is, you don't need it either.

"The mandrake leaves only serve to strengthen connections; it's a quick fix for seventh-grade students, but you all have another year to develop the same abilities..."

"Then silently recite this incantation to achieve the effect of casting the spell without sound or staff."

Then, Victor suddenly revealed a smile that sent chills down the students' spines.

"Speaking of which, do you know when a person's premonition is clearest?"