Chapter 19: Class Schedule and Strategy

Morning sunlight gently fell upon Gryffindor Tower.

“Allen, Allen! Wake up!” Ron’s voice came from outside the curtains.

Allen struggled out of bed and replied, “Okay! I’m getting up right away!”

As he answered, he skillfully checked his body.

Sigh! The wings were gone again! Allen instantly felt a loss of security.

Although those wings were a nuisance! Allen thought silently.

Allen quickly identified today’s randomly transformed organ—a pair of horns growing on his head.

He cheerfully pulled back the curtains, jumped off the bed, and ran barefoot to the only mirror in the dormitory to examine his new “accessory.”

“Allen, those horns look awesome!” A heavy slap on his shoulder—Harry’s voice.

“Of course they do—look where they’re growing!” Allen was in a good mood today. He now recognized the horns as those of some kind of bull—a decent transformation, minimal disruption to daily life, and his spirits lifted further.

“Good morning!” Harry leaned in to study Allen in the mirror.

Allen suddenly felt like a Tauren from the game World of Warcraft. A mischievous idea struck him. He answered Harry solemnly: “May the Earth Mother guide you!”

Then he burst into laughter and ran off, leaving Harry utterly confused.

Then he turned to Neville, who had just entered: “May the wind point your way!”

Neville stared at Allen blankly as Allen laughed and dashed into the bathroom.

“What’s Allen saying?” Ron asked, puzzled.

“I have no idea, but this is the first time I’ve seen Allen so lively! Before… ” Harry paused, searching for the right word, “He was gloomy and distant!”

“I like him this way!” Ron shrugged.

The Great Hall (dining room).

Allen sat by the long table, studying his weekly class schedule.

He scribbled and annotated it with a feather quill.

First-year courses at Hogwarts: Herbology, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Astronomy, History of Magic, Flying, and Charms.

Allen rated each course by importance in his mind using star ratings:

Five stars: Transfiguration (no choice—it’s a matter of life and death);

Four stars: Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts;

Three stars: Potions, Herbology;

Two stars: History of Magic;

One star: Astronomy, Flying;

This didn’t mean he neglected low-star courses. He attended all classes diligently and completed homework after each one. But he noticed the professors didn’t demand much from them.

Yet Allen, who vaguely remembered the plot, couldn’t afford such lax standards. The magical world was on the brink of chaos—he had to prepare early and aimed for mastery in certain subjects.

First-year classes didn’t take up much time, so Allen categorized them to better allocate his free hours.

The higher the star rating, the more time he’d invest outside class to achieve mastery.

For high-star courses, scoring 100 wasn’t Allen’s goal—his goal was to score 100 because the exam only had 100 points.

After this period of study, Allen realized his magical talent wasn’t exceptional—at least not close to the legendary wizards in History of Magic—but still far above average for young witches and wizards.

His greatest advantage was a mature soul—he could sit still far longer than eleven-year-old wizards, and wasn’t easily distracted.

He could focus entirely on practicing magic—a major advantage.

But his greatest disadvantage was also his mature soul—his thoughts were too cluttered, unlike the pure, simple minds of eleven-year-olds. When casting spells, strange ideas kept popping into his head (looking at you, Pigwidgeon), disrupting his focus and sometimes causing spell failure.

So he needed to better organize his free time to achieve his learning goals.

What now troubled Allen was whether to upgrade Defense Against the Dark Arts to five stars. His original plan had been to learn quietly at school, but one event after another had shattered that plan, forcing him to reevaluate.

He clearly remembered a short video he’d watched before—Malfoy had a major role in Dumbledore’s death!

Malfoy was destined to become a Death Eater. His conflict with Malfoy had already reached this point—when the chance arose, Malfoy would never let him go. If it were just Malfoy alone, he could handle it. But if Malfoy brought other dangerous Death Eaters, he wouldn’t stand a chance. Allen weighed this silently.

Increasing practice time for Defense Against the Dark Arts was unavoidable! Allen resolved firmly.

Then he groaned—he thought of Professor Quirrell, who always turned classes into farces. Fun, yes, but he learned almost nothing. This couldn’t continue.

Unlike other young wizards, Allen held a surprisingly high regard for Professor Quirrell.

First, though Quirrell stuttered and made jokes, he carried the aura of a STEM guy—something Allen, also a STEM guy, found appealing.

Second, watching other students mock Quirrell reminded Allen of his own childhood, when classmates ridiculed him—this gave him unexpected empathy.

Third, Allen observed Quirrell suffered from severe social anxiety—a condition Allen himself had experienced mildly in his past life—so he deeply understood Quirrell’s behavior.

Fourth, several older wizards had told him Quirrell had once been an outstanding, beloved teacher—suggesting strong professional ability. Allen generally respected professionals.

Finally, though Quirrell’s classroom reeked of garlic, Fred and George told him it was to repel vampires—a sign of high professionalism in Allen’s eyes:

Even in the supposedly safe environment of Hogwarts, Quirrell maintained such vigilance, still using methods to guard against dark magical creatures—how professional and serious! Allen, who had always lived in a safe world, saw this as the very quality he lacked—and he wanted to cultivate such constant alertness.

Thus, Allen’s high regard for Professor Quirrell.

“But in Quirrell’s class, you learn almost nothing! The students constantly disrupt him, and his stutter, caused by social anxiety, prevents him from maintaining discipline.” Allen mused silently, blaming the young wizards.

“No—I can’t be like the others, mindlessly playing during Defense Against the Dark Arts. I must find a way to master it!” Allen fretted.

"What if I help Quirrell maintain classroom discipline? No—that’s too obvious! And it might make him even more nervous." Someone had zero self-awareness—he’d never been low-key since arriving at Hogwarts.

Suddenly, Allen remembered his senior year of high school, when he’d chased teachers after class to ask questions.

“Could I do the same?” Allen slapped his thigh excitedly. “Yes! That’s it! After class, I’ll go to Quirrell alone. One-on-one, he won’t be so anxious, no one will mock him—he’ll surely pour out everything he knows to me! Yes! Exactly!”

Allen finally made up his mind—mastering this subject would be vital for his future survival.

He no longer hesitated—he upgraded Defense Against the Dark Arts to five stars on his schedule.

He gazed at his schedule, smiling happily...