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Harry Potter: Becoming a Study God

Wade: I only have seven years to study at Hogwarts. If you exclude holidays, that's just 266 weeks! Even if I could thoroughly understand one book a week, that's only 266 books! How many magical books are there in the Hogwarts library? Thousands upon thousands! Time is fleeting, how could I not seize every moment to study?! I won’t allow anyone to disrupt my study environment—not even the Dark Lord! No, no, no, it’s not just a simple love for knowledge. I’m simply greedy. ************** This is not my story and is written by a Chinese author. I am Just translating it.... This is a Machine translation. I have cleaned all the chapters I publish to the maximum of my capabilities. It's not perfect, but it's still an enjoyable read. If the original author have any issue with this... Please let me know i will remove it... **************

Lightreaper · Book&Literature
Not enough ratings
126 Chs

Chapter 38: Learn, Understand, and Control

Ever since Wade accidentally overheard the conversation between Quirrell and the wraith-version of Voldemort, he started avoiding wandering into isolated, deserted areas. When he didn't have classes, he spent most of his time in the Umbrella room. 

Luckily, Michael's enthusiasm for Quidditch had finally died down—probably because Ravenclaw lost to Hufflepuff in the match, and two students got injured, making him realize Quidditch wasn't as fun as he thought.

During the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Wade focused on observing Quirrell. In front of the students, Professor Quirrell was still the same timid, pitiful figure. 

When one cheeky student brought up the incident where Quirrell tumbled down the stands, he awkwardly stammered, "I—I wasn't paying attention—It seems like—seems like someone pushed me—"

The students all gave him skeptical looks—who would dare pull a prank on a professor? They were convinced that Quirrell had simply gotten too excited and lost his balance but was too embarrassed to admit it.

Naturally, no one suspected Wade. In everyone's eyes, he was the model student—respectful to professors, diligent in his studies, and never causing trouble— A typical Ravenclaw.

After class, Padma quickly packed her bag and excitedly ran over to ask, "Want to go to the Umbrella room to do homework?"

Though Quirrell's teaching skills left much to be desired, his ability to assign homework rivaled Professor Snape's. Each time, he assigned essays at least a foot long, enough to give even Ravenclaw students headaches.

But after studying in the Umbrella room for a while, Padma seemed to have cracked the "essay-writing code" and even began enjoying it. 

It was probably because after finishing the homework quickly, she could watch her classmates groaning about how much they had left to do, struggling with their essays, and it gave her a great sense of satisfaction.

Wade had often seen her chatting in the Great Hall—

"How much homework do you have left?"

"Huh? You still have that much to do? I finished my essay in just forty minutes yesterday. It wasn't that hard, was it? How come you haven't even started the introduction? Were you not paying attention in class?"

After hearing this a few times, people stopped engaging with her. So, Padma ended up hanging out mostly with her sister. Judging by Parvati's expression, though, it seemed she put up with Padma's bragging just so she could "borrow" her homework for "reference."

Wade had thought about telling Padma to tone down the bragging, but then Michael, gazing at Padma's smiling face from the other end of the table, said:

"Don't you think that's kind of cute? It's like she's saying 'Aren't I amazing?' and have 'Come on, praise me!' all over her face."

He chuckled, adding, "Smart and a little silly!."

...Well, fair enough.

Wade swallowed the words he was about to say.

He wondered if maybe his mindset was too old and too pragmatic, which was why he couldn't appreciate the silly charm of a young girl like Padma.

At that moment, Padma was eagerly looking forward to going to the Umbrella room, but behind her, Michael was winking and gesturing at Wade, trying to send a signal.

Wade glanced in that direction, then turned back and said, "You guys go ahead. I have a question I need to ask Professor Flitwick."

Michael was overjoyed, giving Wade a thumbs-up and bending it twice in a gesture of thanks.

Padma looked a bit disappointed. "—Alright then."

The two of them left together, while Wade packed up his things and headed toward the seventh floor.

He wasn't deliberately trying to create an opportunity for Michael but genuinely had something to discuss with Professor Flitwick.

Professor Flitwick's office was on the seventh floor, and not many students ventured that high up, so it was always quiet. In the long hallway, only the portraits occasionally muttered in their sleep.

Speaking of portraits, Wade had never seen another one as lively as Griffiths. Most of the castle's portraits would just stretch lazily or turn their heads occasionally; some even never seemed to leave their frames at all.

Like Miss Claudia, for example.

Wade stopped in front of an oak door, on which an eagle was carved. The eagle, upon seeing Wade, flapped its wings and muttered as if to itself, "Wade Grey is here to visit."

A moment later, it said, "Permission to enter."

The oak door slid open, and Wade stepped inside.

Professor Flitwick's office had the same style as the Ravenclaw Tower—it was an arched room, with thirteen windows offering views of both the Ravenclaw Tower and the Owlery. 

Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting colorful shadows on the floor.

Most of the furniture in the room was mini-sized, perfectly suited to Professor Flitwick's height. The exception was the grand bookshelf, towering from the floor to the ceiling, packed with hundreds of books. 

There were also thick stacks of parchment scattered on the floor, most of which were notes Professor Flitwick had organized himself. Sometimes, he lent them to students he particularly liked—Wade currently had two of these notes in his bag.

"Oh, Wade" 

Professor Flitwick's voice came from above. Wade looked up to see the professor standing on a tall, self-sliding ladder. The ladder slowly retracted, eventually turning into a low step, and Professor Flitwick jumped down from it.

"I was very pleased with your essay on the Softening Charm (Spongify). Child, do you have new questions today?" he asked cheerfully.

"Yes." Wade took out the notes he had borrowed earlier and said, "I've already finished learning everything in The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 3). I'd like you to assess my level."

"No problem. Hmm... Let's start with a Cheering Charm!" Professor Flitwick suggested.

Over the next period, Wade demonstrated the dozen or so spells learned in third year, all of which he successfully cast on the first try. Professor Flitwick was so excited that he almost fainted!

"Oh, Wade! Oh, Wade! You are absolutely a genius!" he exclaimed repeatedly. 

"In just three months! I've watched you go from knowing nothing to this level! You've progressed so fast! At this rate, you'll reach O.W.L. level in less than a year! You're bound to become someone extraordinary in the future!"

Wade smiled and said, "Professor, I'd like to borrow the fourth-year textbooks and notes."

"Of course, I've already prepared them! I knew you'd finish before the Christmas holidays," Professor Flitwick said and waved his wand. 

Several books flew over from the desk. They included Flitwick's own copy of The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 4), along with materials he had used to prepare for lessons, teaching notes, and outstanding essays left by former students.

Professor Flitwick had been teaching at Hogwarts for decades and had reached the point where all he needed was his wand to teach a class. However, he had kept all his notes from earlier years, carefully organized and even continuously updated over time.

Wade's eyes allowed him to "learn" a spell quickly. But the same Fire-Making Charm could be used to light a cigarette, kindle a campfire, or even burn down a city, depending on the caster.

This reflected a difference in power.

In terms of control, some wizards might accidentally scorch their face with their own flames, while others could manipulate the fire to take various shapes, burn as desired, or extinguish it at will.

This difference wasn't just about magical power but also about the wizard's understanding of the essence of the spell.

Wade's eyes helped him "learn," textbooks and library books helped him "understand," but the materials from Professor Flitwick gave him a glimpse of the key to "control."

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