"—Professor Hagrid only accepts students who scored 'Outstanding' in the O.W.Ls exams." She added.
Several arms drooped in disappointment.
"Well then," Professor McGonagall sighed, looking at the seemingly unchanging number of students. A bit troubled, she said, "Let's queue up in order."
Ron looked at the crowd in amazement, whispering to Harry, "Are there still people who didn't get 'Outstanding'? Unbelievable..."
Harry just shrugged. From his observations, everyone's Ancient Runes scores were surprisingly excellent. This led to a phenomenon where everyone seemed to consider the Advanced Class as a compulsory course, even though Professor Hagrid warned that it would be challenging. But very few students had the courage to give up an advantageous subject.
In the end, Harry and Ron chose the same subjects: Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Transfiguration, Potions, and Ancient Runes.
"Just one subject less than Hermione," Ron said, half proud and half sighing.
Harry wasn't surprised. Reflecting on his five years at Hogwarts, the first three were relatively relaxed. He and Ron were basically only diligent in the last two months of the final exams. However, the fourth and fifth years felt like nightmares.
In the fourth year, they practiced magic hard for the Triwizard Tournament, but almost got killed by Voldemort at the end of the third task.
It was precisely because of this experience that the intensity of their training once made even Sirius unable to watch. Even Ron—Harry knew he didn't care much about grades, but he had persevered through these two years.
The only explanation Harry could think of was Hermione's words in the summer of the fourth year. "I don't want to die in a war." But they also didn't want to watch their companions die in the next encounter with Voldemort.
When the three arrived at the Ancient Runes classroom, Professor Harp was already waiting there, and the chairs were filled with students.
"Why are there so many people?" Harry exclaimed.
"Advanced classes are for all four houses together," Hermione whispered.
"Hey, look over there." Ron nudged Harry's ribs with his finger, and Harry looked to the far left of the front row. A furry Niffler, yawning widely, was sitting on a stack of thick books. Daphne Greengrass sat on the other side, sitting upright, but her eyes kept involuntarily glancing to the left.
"Valen?" Hermione said in surprise. Valen heard the voice, lifted his head, and lazily waved at them.
"Merlin's beard," Ron admired, "Professor Harp is not satisfied with just teaching Valen to read."
They found seats, and Harry couldn't help but stare at the back of Valen's head. Then he glanced at the professor flipping through Ancient Runes books at the lectern, feeling extremely strange. Were they going to be classmates with a Niffler?
After a while, Felix put away the Ancient Runes books and stood up. His gaze swept across the classroom, now filled with students.
"You've experienced three years of Ancient Runes and achieved excellent results."
"I hope you chose this course out of love for Ancient Runes, because you will find that the difficulty of the Advanced Class is completely different from before... You've heard of wandless magic, right? Yes, this skill is widely used at the Beauxbatons Academy."
"Ancient Runes also has similar requirements." Newest update provided by novel·fıre·net
"Now put away your wands. You need to learn to free yourselves from unnecessary constraints," Felix said, and the students below awkwardly stowed away their wands. "Very well, I need you to use your fingers to trace Ancient Runes in the air. I know some of you can do it. The next step is to use your will to manipulate magic and make the Rune symbols appear around you. The more, the better! Let's begin."
The importance of wands to wizards was undeniable. Losing a wand was undoubtedly a significant blow to the students, and most of them stared at the small patch of air in front of them, their faces turning red, fingers moving haphazardly, as if afflicted with some disease.
"I told you before," Felix said with a low, amused voice as he walked among the students, "there are some tricks, but you need to discover them yourselves." There was a touch of schadenfreude in his tone.
He walked over to Hermione's side, and she was covering a glowing Ancient Rune with her hand. Just as she was about to raise her hand, she saw the professor glaring at her, and Hermione awkwardly put her hand down.
"How did you do it?" Harry whispered when Felix left. Ron and the students around them immediately perked up their ears, listening intently.
"Imagine the magical symbolism of the Rune symbol in your mind," Hermione whispered.
Harry and the surrounding students suddenly enlightened.
Professor Harp had emphasized the importance of magical symbolism in practical Ancient Runes more than once. They just hadn't connected it to the content of this class. Soon, this 'secret' spread rapidly among the students. Felix pretended not to hear, watching the students use all their brainpower to imagine a wisp of light, a flame, or flowing water...
Some students were getting anxious.
"I've got flaming, roaring fire in my head." Seamus murmured, yawning widely, and as if it were contagious, all the students looked drowsy.
Hermione kept rubbing her forehead.
"What's the next class?" she asked wearily.
"It's Dark Arts Defense," Neville said as he walked over. He seemed unaffected.
A picture of an old man flashed in Harry's mind; he had given him an encouraging smile that morning. They lingered in the classroom for a while, students gradually leaving. They lined up and came to the Dark Arts Defense classroom, Harry opened the door, then suddenly backed out, staring at the sign on the door in shock, looking as if he had seen a ghost.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked in surprise. She squeezed through from the side and looked into the classroom, then also widened her eyes. Apart from Professor Bathsheda at the lectern, the last row of the classroom was neatly occupied by four people—
Snape, Professor McGonagall, Professor Hagrid, and Headmaster Dumbledore.
At this moment, the wrinkled old man standing at the podium under the sunlight appeared mysterious and profound.
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