DNF Meets Harry Potter

When the get out of class bell rang, only Carl was the only one in the entire classroom who perfectly turned the matches into thin needles. Even Hermione couldn't reach the perfect level of Professor McGonagall's mind, and the other little wizards were even worse, whether they were students from wizarding families or Muggle families, they just made the roots of the matches a little bit pointed.

Carl has been tutoring three roommates since he got his classwork done. However, what he didn't expect was that the level of the three of them was simply too good to be seen directly, and the best Alex only gave the matches a little metallic luster.

When Professor McGonagall announced his dismissal and assigned a two-inch paper, the classroom was filled with mourning. They can't even make needles bad, how can they write the thesis.

After Carl and his group walked out of the Transfiguration Classroom, they went straight to the Charms Classroom. This was their dean's first class, and first impressions were very important.

...

"Harry Potter!"

Professor Flitwick stood on a stack of books, barely keeping up with the little wizards. When he called out Harry Potter by name, his little eyes flashed with excitement.

For him, who has studied spells for many years and once won a fighting championship, Harry Potter, who successfully survived Voldemort's death curse and fought back, can be regarded as a miracle in the history of spells!

"This is your first spell class at Hogwarts, and I don't have much to say about spells. This subject is not as dangerous as the Transfiguration class you just took, and it's really just a matter of the tone and movement of the spell being said. Now, basically it can be done," Professor Flitwick said sharply.

"I think everyone has already previewed the course. Not much nonsense. Today's task is to make the feathers float. I hope you can remember the spell - Wingardim Leviosa..."

"Now I'm going to demonstrate, please pay attention to the tone and gestures of my mantra."

After Professor Flitwick explained, he immediately started the manual demonstration. He took out a handful of feathers from the bag, about 30 or 40 feathers, and then picked up the wand and waved it again and again.

At the same time, a passionate voice also sounded: "Winga Dim Leviosa!"

Dozens of feathers flew into the air one after another, and then landed on each little wizard's table with great precision.

Then he tapped the book under his feet with the wand, and he floated into the air together with the book, observing every little wizard in the classroom from the perspective of God.

"WOW~!"

The little wizards below were all amazed that Professor Flitwick's floating spell was too powerful.

"Now, start practicing. If there is something you don't understand, you can raise your hand and call me, and I will explain it to the students who encounter difficulties."

Professor Flitwick's gentle voice came from mid-air, coupled with a delicate echo spell, all the little wizards could not help but absurdly produce a kind of absurdity that Professor Flitwick whispered in his ear just now.

Floating Charm + Sword = Flying with the Sword.

After watching Professor Flitwick's demonstration, Carl successfully applied a formula.

At the same time, I can't help but admire that these professors have their own good methods in the first class.

Different from the notoriety of the old bat and his treacherous words in class and Professor McGonagall's direct line-up, he listed the horror of Transfiguration and added his own sternness.

Filius Flitwick completely conquered the little wizard present with his own exquisite magic spell.

"Sure enough, it's not a fuel-efficient lamp that can become a professor at Hogwarts." Carl secretly connected with these thoughts.

how to say? Reading books and seeing the world is different. And Harry, Ron, and Philip on the side were like a group of salted fish who could only call 666, madly calling for Professor Flitwick's hand...

A spell class is not as difficult as Transfiguration, and it's only about making a feather float. Karl didn't even need to concentrate, he casually tapped the feather on the table with his wand, and then the feather floated into the air and turned in a circle following Karl's gestures.

"Silent casting?!"

Alex on the side is not calm, what is this operation? Why are you also a freshman, why are you so good?

"Yeah, what's so surprising. The floating spell is just the most basic spell. In my opinion, this basic spell can be released as long as you have a hand." Carl explained casually with disapproval: "There is also , if Professor Flitwick hadn't just demonstrated this spell, he could have done it without a wand, and every feather landed on the students' desks with great precision."

Alex's eyes widened: "Can this be the same? Professor Flitwick is our dean and once won a fighting competition."

"Didn't you say you came from the Muggle world? Then your earliest exposure to magic must have been this summer."

Carl smiled slightly and said mysteriously: "Well, then you may underestimate me, in fact, I can do other silent spells." He used his wand to direct the feathers to dance in the air.

Philip next to Alex put down his wand and inserted a sentence: "Well, that's right. The first grade dared to use the broom in the main Hogwarts castle and dared to be late for the first class of the old bat. Maybe an ordinary person?"

Hearing these words, Carl said with a kind face: "Philip, are you itchy? If you dare to expose my shortcomings again, believe it or not, I will immediately apply what I have learned. Use the method taught by Professor McGonagall in today's class. Your brother becomes a needle."

True Ice Soul Silver Needle!

Philip's crotch froze, and he immediately confessed: "Wrong, wrong... I beg you to let it go."

"Call Dad!"

...

"Boom!"

Just as Karl and the others were pressing Lai Lai, there was an explosion from the Gryffindor long table next door.

The culprit, Seamus Finnigan, blew the feathers up with a levitating spell.

Flitwick: "..."

As soon as I said there was no danger, I was immediately slapped in the face...

The table was scorched black, and the head of the caster Seamus Finnigan's pot turned into an explosive head. The roots of his hair were blown up, and the brand-new wizard robes on his body were also blown to tatters.

The little savior beside him hurriedly moved his position, fearing that Chiyu would be harmed and he would be hurt twice.

Although the first time only suffered some mental damage, the second time may not necessarily be. Not every time I can be so lucky, for the sake of my own life, I'd better stay away from this walking human bomb. Meow's own life is still saved to beat Voldemort to avenge his parents, but he can't explain it here like this.

The boy who survived the disaster, Voldemort's nemesis, was killed by his classmate's wrong spell, and it would be too wrong.

Mister Savior Harry Potter thought so.