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BFH# Chapter 52: Gryffindor's Daily Academic Dramas
🕑 Added 2025-01-23 15:15:49 +0000 UTCWhen the class finally ended, half of the students collapsed to the ground while the other half cowered in corners, trembling. A few students even nearly clung to Victor's legs, begging him not to make them try again. They didn't want to end up bald or, worse, humiliated.
In this tense atmosphere, the torturous lesson dragged to its end.
As soon as the dismissal bell rang, the students nearly burst into tears of relief.
"Not so fast," Victor called out, smiling as he signaled his flying monkeys to stop chasing the students. He halted those who were limping away—it wasn’t as though they could run fast anyway. Some had wobbly legs after being forced to run twenty laps and couldn’t even stand properly.
Reluctantly, the students looked up at him, fear etched on their faces.
"I’ve noticed that a significant number of you dislike this training method," Victor began, his tone cheerful but with a hint of menace. "And some of you, for various reasons, struggle to achieve full marks. So, I’m offering you a second option..."
Some students immediately perked up, hope lighting their weary faces.
"…If you submit a three-foot-long Divination essay before the next class."
"And it must include a review of all previous knowledge. After all, you can’t cheat—your only choice is to memorize everything. But remember, students taking this option must score at least an 'E' on the next exam."
The light in their eyes immediately died.
Three feet?
That’s a full meter!
To escape this mortifying and grueling class, they’d need to write a one-meter essay and score an 'Exceeds Expectations' in the next test.
A few Gryffindors groaned in despair, instantly aligning themselves with the scowling Slytherins.
Only the academically inclined students, seeing this as a lifeline, rushed out of the classroom, dragging their exhausted friends along.
“Goodbye, Professor!”
“Goodbye!”
By evening, the Gryffindor common room was flooded with weary students. Some collapsed onto sofas immediately upon entering, others simply lay flat on the ground, while a few entered mysteriously, hoods pulled low over their heads.
This baffled Fred, George, and Lee Jordan, who were playing wizard chess in the corner.
“What happened to all of you?” Lee asked, looking up from the mountain of homework he was working through. He turned to the fifth years—and especially to Wood, who was sprawled on the ground, looking lifeless.
"Don’t… ask," groaned one fifth-year slumped on a sofa. “I had to run twenty laps... while listening to some mind-numbing music that nearly shook my brain out of my skull!”
This complaint drew a chorus of equally weak grumbles from others.
Wood, lying on the floor, muttered, “You think that’s bad? I got hit with a Shrinking Charm! Those twenty laps felt longer than my entire life…”
Wood’s voice was faint, and he looked ready to pass out. Still, even if he did, it wouldn’t be a big deal—Madam Pomfrey would just give him a vial of Invigoration Draught, and he’d be fine.
Thanks to magical potions, wizards’ lives were far more intense—and absurd—than Muggles could imagine.
“What class were you guys even in? Defense Against the Dark Arts?” George asked curiously. “Why is your class so exciting while we’re stuck listening to Quirrell mumble about his African adventures? It’s dreadful.”
Lee waved a piece of parchment in frustration. “Quirrell gave us a fifteen-inch essay to write this week. It’s so annoying. Divination sounds way better. At least we got to learn about fire divination—and there’s no homework!”
“Divination? Better?”
The fifth-years, sprawled across the common room, all raised their heads to glare at Lee.
One of them let out a wail. “That’s the class we just came from! You have no idea what it’s like to feel like there’s a sword hanging over your head, constantly ready to drop and skewer you! And while being cursed, threatened with baldness, and poked in the backside, you still have to chant spells—”
“Professor Victor is even more ruthless than Snape!”
The Gryffindor who shouted this accidentally choked mid-rant, sending himself into a fit of violent coughing before collapsing back onto the sofa, completely motionless.
The younger students exchanged uneasy looks, a hint of fear in their eyes.
Only Harry and Ron, who had just returned from Charms class, seemed completely bewildered by the scene. The struggles of one year group were incomprehensible to another.
Because of the Halloween feast that evening, the exhausted students managed to pull themselves together after an hour of rest and made their way to the Great Hall.
The hall was a spectacle: a thousand bats fluttered along the walls and ceiling, while another thousand hovered like dark clouds over the tables, causing the candle flames inside the pumpkins to flicker. Delicious dishes appeared on the golden plates, just like at the start-of-term banquet.
However, faint hissing sounds occasionally broke the festive mood at the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables—mainly from the unlucky Wood and Flint.
This unexpected solidarity between the two houses brought about a rare moment of peace. For the first time, the usual Halloween scuffles between the Gryffindors and Slytherins were entirely canceled.
But for Harry, this wasn’t the most surprising thing.
The most surprising thing was that Malfoy hadn’t tried to provoke him in ages.
While eating his mashed potatoes, Harry glanced toward the Slytherin table and spotted Malfoy’s face—a face that, just weeks ago, had been universally loathed.
Now, however, when Malfoy noticed Harry’s gaze, he merely glared before turning away, his face inexplicably pale.
“What do you think Malfoy’s been through recently?” Harry asked Ron, who was devouring a chicken leg.
“Mmph mmph mmph?”
“I don’t understand you, Ron.”
“I said—I have no idea,” Ron finally managed, swallowing a mouthful of chicken. “But hey, who cares? At least he hasn’t been bothering us for a couple of weeks.”
“Maybe Snape told him to stop embarrassing Slytherin,” Harry suggested.
“Let’s hope so,” Ron said with a nod.
“I think that’s it,” Ron added. “He didn’t even bother us in Charms today… but have you noticed? Miss Know-It-All seems to be annoyed with us lately.”
“You mean Hermione? Why?” Harry asked, surprised.
“Probably because we keep breaking school rules and endangering Gryffindor’s points. Who knows? But whenever she sees us, she huffs, like all the house points were earned by her alone. Never mind that you’ve added points in Defense Against the Dark Arts.”
“Did you see her in Charms today? She tried to correct your pronunciation, but you didn’t even need correcting to cast the Levitation Charm properly.”
