Chapter 241
Allen snapped out of his thoughts, but fell into confusion: although this knowledge was very useful to him, why had Professor McGonagall suddenly wanted to talk to him about it?
Allen asked the question honestly—he was, after all, Professor McGonagall’s most favored student.
“Your learning ability and magical talent are indeed excellent; the third-year curriculum should be quite easy for you now, but I still hope you won’t waste such precious study time by dozing off in class. You should channel your energy into researching other spells,” Professor McGonagall said sternly.
Allen was stunned by her words—he never imagined she saw him this way. Though he appeared to be dozing in class, he was always immersed in his Mind Chamber, conducting his own research.
He was about to explain, but Professor McGonagall cut him off: “Other professors have also raised similar concerns with me. Don’t argue with me just to save face—I’m only looking out for your benefit.”
Allen opened his mouth weakly, but found he could not say a word.
Then she dismissed him.
Allen walked out of the Transfiguration classroom; Professor McGonagall’s words that day gave him profound insight.
He finally understood why upper-year students’ spells were more powerful than those of lower-year students—it was because of this.
If so, the pure-blood families’ advantage in this area was far too great. After all, there were only so many widely used spells in the magical world; a Muggle-born wizard who mastered them all could only gain limited magical potency boosts.
The pure-blood families’ advantage lay in generations of accumulation and inheritance—they could pass down knowledge and research on various spells, allowing those born into them not only to learn more secret incantations, but also to study them more deeply and gain greater potency enhancements.
He suddenly understood that the power of pure-blood families wasn’t just reflected in accumulated influence and wealth.
But so what? Malfoy was still crushed under his control, Allen thought indifferently.
Still, Professor McGonagall had given him a warning today—he really should deepen his research into other spells. Fortunately, for someone who could see every spell’s parameters, such research shouldn’t be too difficult.
Since Allen’s talent ability had upgraded, although randomly obtaining various Pokémon body parts was fun, he feared one specific part the most—eyes.
Pokémon all had large, sparkling, Kawaii eyes; in manga, they looked adorable, but when manifested in the real world, onto a human face, they were no longer cute.
Although Hermione and other witches loved the look when Allen randomly got big eyes, Allen himself found it slightly terrifying.
Professor Lupin’s recent appearance looked pale, with dark circles under his eyes—worse than when he first boarded the train. It seemed Professor Snape’s claim that he was unwell had been true.
Yet Professor Lupin’s condition did not affect his teaching—he remained gentle and patient, his Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons still vivid and engaging, quickly earning him many students’ affection.
Allen and Harry were still trying to learn the Patronus Charm from Professor Lupin, but they had made no breakthrough.
One evening, as they were about to go to Professor Lupin for another lesson, Hermione quietly pulled Allen into a corner.
Allen looked at Hermione in confusion—he had no idea what she was up to.
“What can’t you say in front of Harry?” Allen asked.
“Have you noticed something odd about Professor Lupin?” Hermione said seriously.
“Odd? Is he unwell?” Allen didn’t understand what she meant.
“No,” Hermione lowered her voice and glanced around.
“Professor Lupin is a werewolf,” she said quickly.
“A werewolf?” Allen exclaimed, then lowered his voice too. “How do you know?”
“Do you remember the essay on werewolves Professor Snape assigned when he substituted for Defense Against the Dark Arts?” Hermione reminded him.
Allen strained to recall—he remembered it happened, but his memory of the essay was faint.
Hermione saw the confusion in his eyes. “You were still struggling with mandrake leaves in your mouth back then—you didn’t care about anyone,” she said with a hint of complaint.
Allen stared directly at Hermione, thinking: I feel like you’re hinting at something.
Hermione, slightly embarrassed by his gaze, hurried on: “To write that essay, I researched a lot about werewolves. Combined with Professor Lupin’s illness patterns, I believe he is a werewolf.”
Allen recalled the knowledge he had on werewolves—he thought Hermione’s theory highly plausible.
“Professor Lupin is a great teacher, but I still want you to know this,” Hermione said with concern.
“Professor Dumbledore clearly trusts Professor Lupin. I trust Professor Dumbledore completely, so I support his decision to appoint Professor Lupin as our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher—besides, he’s doing an excellent job,” Allen said, knowing Hermione was worried for him.
“Besides, my Animagus form is a fierce beast with strong combat power, so don’t worry about me or Harry,” Allen reassured her.
Hermione nodded lightly...
“Actually, the Patronus Charm isn’t hard to learn. Compared to other spells, its wand movement isn’t complex, and its incantation has little variation. The difficulty lies in how you find the most suitable positive emotion and channel it into the spell,” Professor Lupin said, as gently as ever.
“You must focus all your thoughts on a particularly joyful or proud moment. Only when that emotion reaches a certain intensity will it summon a tangible Patronus,” Professor Lupin continued.
“Keep practicing!”
“Expecto Patronum!” Harry and Allen both swung their wands.
Both summoned an incomplete Patronus—a shimmering mass of silvery mist.
According to Professor Lupin, once you could produce this silvery mist, summoning a full Patronus was merely a matter of time.
Even if Harry never managed to summon a complete Patronus, he would no longer be utterly defenseless against Dementors as before.
(https://)
Please remember the original domain of this book: . Mobile reading URL:
End of Chapter
