This is what Ravenclaw looks like.

"My idea was generally successful, Professor."

In Professor McGonagall's office, Andrew reported his progress in a confident tone after many experiments.

"Less than a month?"

Professor McGonagall's tone was a bit surprised, "Sooner than I expected, use the table - well, just the one over there, once."

"The range still cannot be controlled accurately, Professor," Andrew's expression became less calm - Professor McGonagall saw the flaw at a glance.

"It doesn't matter. Show it to me and let me see how far your idea can go."

The professor shook his head slightly and said, "Go and cast the spell. Don't worry about causing any damage."

…

I don't even dare to go that far.

Andrew swallowed his rant, carefully took out the jar from his backpack, placed it on the table, and then repeated his experiment.

A familiar second cast - the beans burst out of the cocoon and exploded directly towards the entire office, easily turning the entire table top into another color.

But the beans that flew out seemed to have received some order and stagnated in mid-air. Then, as if they had lost all their power, they gently fell back to the table and rolled together with the other beans.

"Very good, no, very good, Taylor."

Professor McGonagall nodded, "You have successfully created a variant of range casting, and it has great potential. Now you can officially start learning range casting. I gave you the book list last time. Go to the library now. Borrow it... Well, this semester, try to practice range casting, and don't study human transformation or other transformation techniques. Now is not the time."

Or area casting?

Andrew was in a daze for a moment - is there something hidden in it that he doesn't know about?

However, there is definitely logic in the professor's arrangement, and Andrew, who has just been involved in the field of range casting, is not opposed to it at all.

"There is also a laboratory, professor..."

Andrew handed over the key carefully - he would definitely hand over this precious resource without testing the spell.

"Continue to practice well, as you envisioned, just practice in the laboratory, and those..."

Professor McGonagall hesitated for a moment, "Those books, including those in the restricted area, have been taken to the laboratory. If you encounter something you don't understand, take the book and ask me."

‘The privileges of the restricted book area have also been released? ’

The books from last school year were kept with Professor McGonagall, and then Andrew read them after processing the files. Now this is really...

"I'll practice hard, Professor."

"Well, let's get the book."

——

To Andrew's expectation, when he went to pick up the book this time, Mrs. Pince didn't even comment on the banned books on the book list, and neatly took out the book and lifted the magic on it.

Even Mrs. Pince saw him dazed there and drove him away with a bit of dissatisfaction - asking him not to block the way of the next person who came to borrow books.

The surprised Andrew could only leave with a stack of books in his arms, and then figured out what to do next.

After nearly a month of teaching, he has completely mastered Professor Lockhart's quick memory skills and auxiliary magic. His progress in German is also very gratifying. After the problem of range deformation is overcome, he will have about half a month to study. You can write something that once has a German flavor.

But that's not the point - the point now is when Ginny kills the chicken.

The distance he runs every day has now changed, from running along the Black Lake to running back and forth to the new greenhouse and hunting lodge - just to see if the poor chickens are okay every day.

As long as the chicken is dead, he can naturally put the blame on Ginny and apply to search the damn diary.

It's as simple and clear as that, just wait until the chicken dies.

But unfortunately, their vitality is quite tenacious, and they still show no signs of being killed.

'That's all...there are no more pitfalls...die quickly, chickens. After you die, I can read in peace, practice my transfiguration skills, and then happily spend my second year at Hogwarts...'

Andrew, who prayed devoutly, returned to the laboratory with the book and put it away, and then began to formally learn - the traditional and most authentic range of spellcasting.

'First this one...'

——

"Hagrid, we're here."

"It's been almost a month since school started. It's your first time to see me, huh?"

In Hagrid's cabin, the three of them finally remembered Harry's visit and lowered their heads.

Ron is addicted to flight training, Harry spends a lot of time with Sirius, and Hermione - who lost her first place in Transfiguration last semester, has been working hard on Transfiguration this semester, plus she has to read through the Lockhart series during the summer. The book series wasted so much time that she spent almost all her free time in the library.

"Busy, all busy, um," Hagrid's heavy nasal voice sounded, "all busy."

Obviously, this proud hybrid giant was a little angry.

But he quickly convinced himself, "I don't blame you. Sirius's side is really... He actually came out of there alive, which is great... His motorcycle is still with me."

"Motorcycle?"

"Yes, a motorcycle, Sirius's, a flying one that can even carry my motorcycle. He went after that..."

Hagrid paused, glanced at Harry nervously, and continued after realizing that Harry had no influence.

"That time, he failed to track you, and then he went to Azkaban. I thought the motorcycle was not worth it, so I left it in the warehouse. When I picked you up, he rode his motorcycle to me, and entrusted you and the motorcycle to me. I should have thought of it earlier. He was going to chase you desperately, otherwise he loved his motorcycle the most, why would he give up..."

Hagrid said a lot of nonsense, but his words were not connected.

But Harry felt something warm beating in his chest.

"Motorcycle?"

"Of course, a very cool flying motorcycle. I held you and rode it, and handed you over to Dumbledore, and then entrusted you to the Muggles..."

"But those Muggles don't like Harry."

Hermione suddenly added softly.

"I can't say, I can't say..." Hagrid shook his head violently, "Dumbledore said no."

"Is there any special protection from Dumbledore?"

"Let's pay attention to the motorcycle..."

Hagrid changed the subject abruptly, and succeeded-because Harry and Ron found it on the other side of the hut, wiped clean.

The key is that Hagrid is even willing to take them flying for a while. This experience, which is completely different from the flying broom, makes the two little wizards who like the sky addicted.

It was not until they returned that Ron discovered the loophole.

"Hagrid didn't come to us during this time to sort out the car?"

"Besides, that flying car... is too familiar..."

The two looked at each other, and finally didn't know what to say, so they could only stare at each other and walk towards the castle.