Chapter 444: Still a Poor Student

"Alright, one gave me a Mutant Egg, and the other gave me a summoning spell." Bai Lang stroked his chin, relaxing his muscles; this good fight made his muscles a little tense, "I have to hurry back, lest I'm discovered."

The Hyena summoned by the spell is, of course, a Magical Creature, a living Magical Creature; Bai Lang knows that this thing feeds on physics rather than magic. In any case, there's no harm in studying it slowly, but he's more concerned with his grades—that's the proper thing. Bai Lang has this notion of Martial Magic, but his accumulation is insufficient.

His grades remain quite poor; in core subjects like Transfiguration, Potions Class, and Spell Class he can only maintain them through written assignments—professors have gotten used to it, after all there are many incompetent young wizards loafing around Hogwarts each year, and Bai Lang is no exception. However, Bai Lang does fairly well in courses like Herbology—his mandrake thrives, and repotting never makes a sound.

As for Defense Against the Dark Arts? Bai Lang has long known that Gilderoy Lockhart is a fraud, but that doesn't stop him from watching the guy strut like a peacock in class—after all Bai Lang really learns nothing from this subject, so why not treat it as a performance? Harry Potter can tell that he doesn't like Professor Lockhart at all.

Crabbe and Goyle, two guys whose grades can match Bai Lang's, continue to mock Harry Potter alongside Draco Malfoy; Bai Lang watches with folded arms, unwilling to bail Harry out—because in his view the one at a disadvantage is actually Malfoy, whose every move tears a bit more off the façade of his so‑called "noble magical aristocracy."

"The level's too low," Bai Lang said, wand in hand planted on the ground, and behind him stood students from Slytherin and Hufflepuff—a sight rare in the school. Hogwarts never lacks troublemakers and bullies, but they usually form small groups organized by house; cross‑house gangs are truly uncommon.

Bai Lang's gang is very loose; first, Bai Lang isn't interested in gathering them, and second, they have little horizontal connection, so this little gang only occasionally appears on campus when everyone's off class.

Defense Against the Dark Arts began, and Bai Lang realized he had underestimated Lockhart; the guy is narcissistic to a strange degree, and he didn't even want to write a single word on the handed‑out test paper—so Bai Lang scribbled something randomly and called it done. Such a guy has one advantage: during the exam, as long as you go with his flow, he'll never make you fail—after all he himself is clueless and can't produce any decent assessment.

Yet this fool insisted on showing off, bringing a cage of Cornish pixies—of course the class's focus remained the celebrity Harry Potter, and Bai Lang, a mere background character, was also quite pleased. The electric‑sparked pixies at once hung Lockhart on the chandelier, then engaged in boundless destruction and mischief.

Pixies can't kill, but they can wear you out and make a dreadful mess. They splash ink everywhere, tear parchment, yank ears to hoist young wizards, and fling everything around. At that moment Lockhart fell from the chandelier and, like the other students, ducked under a desk.

The only one who didn't hide was Bai Lang; he was quite pleased to deal with the pixies by snapping his fingers—no wand because he didn't want to kill—at least in front of classmates and teachers he didn't want blood. Two pixies tried to fly at his ears, but he curled his fingers and flicked them twice.

The first snap made direct contact; a single finger flick sent the pixie spiraling out of its own control, crashing into a bookshelf and staying still. "It shouldn't be dead, right?" Bai Lang, knowing this thing's "hardness," could now modulate the force—so for the second he flicked through the air, turning the air into a projectile that struck the second pixie. If that finger had hit the pixie's flesh, bones and gore would have scattered, but as an air‑projectile the pixie's fate was a bit better.

After being hit, the pixie leaned back and fell motionless to the floor. Bai Lang began moving, flicking all ten fingers in succession, as if playing, knocking down one pixie after another, until they all rose to the high ceiling and stayed there. The classroom ceiling was very high, and Bai Lang was too lazy to make a spectacular leap, so he let the trembling pixies perch up there.

The crisis was over, and Lockhart rose from under the desk, "Actually that was just a minor slip; I've demonstrated what not to do against these pixies. Mr. Bai, you've shown outstanding ability! Gryffindor gets five points!" Bai Lang accepted with a grin, though his classmates gave him strange looks—after all, few can topple a dozen Cornish pixies merely with finger flicks; despite being only eight inches tall, their strength rivals that of an adult.

"Lockhart is actually a decent fellow," Bai Lang thought; after all, giving him five points isn't bad and does a little good—now Bai Lang is losing points mainly in Potions Class; he still partners with Seamus Finnigan, and the two have long been making Explosive Potions for a living—Professor Snape thinks it's best to keep the two potion waste products together, so there's one fewer trouble‑making pair.

Harry has admirers, mainly two—Ron Weasley's sister Ginny, and the new student Colin, who constantly carries a camera to photograph Harry's every move, which bothered Harry for a while. Harry's trio and Neville Longbottom finally got to see the marvel of the bag Bai Lang bought.

For Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom it wasn't much, but Harry and Hermione Granger had never seen anything like it—Bai Lang opened the bag and tapped it with the tip of his wand. The bag's flap snapped open, and the side unfolded into a staircase large enough for a person to descend. Following the yellow light that illuminated the stairs, after pushing open the small room at the bottom, they found a two‑story Victorian villa, while the place they emerged from was a tiny wooden shed in a garden corner that could only fit one person standing.

"Ah, so this is what's inside your bag?" everyone looked at the house and the sky above, "Is that the real sky?" Bai Lang wasn't sure himself, but Hermione Granger explained, "It really is the real sky, a sky under a spell, only we can't fly into the clouds."

With Hermione Granger's explanation, Bai Lang understood that this sky had height, roughly equal to the radius of the circular space centered on his house. "Hey buddy, you already have a house you can live in," Seamus Finnigan shouted, "Never thought you were actually rich."

Bai Lang led them into the house, a typical English countryside home, standard furnishings being Rococo‑style furniture and a fireplace; other decorations were missing—he'd have to add them later. Yet his companions were awestruck, noting that tents were far cheaper than such a chest, and a suitcase that could contain a house and a forest was something they'd never seen before.

"One question: owls can't deliver mail here, can they?" Neville Longbottom asked, Bai Lang nodded, "Yeah, that's the only regret?"