Chapter Fifty: Time at Hogwarts

After being thoroughly scolded by Professor Lore, Mobley sat down in a daze. Seeing his blank expression, Kevin almost suspected that some Kamar-Taj sorcerer had secretly knocked his soul out of his body…

Given the indescribable state of the young wizards’ spellcasting abilities, Professor Lore ultimately slowed the pace of the lesson, leaving this session for them to continue practicing the Spark Charm. He further decreed that anyone who failed to meet the requirement by the end of the class would be kept in detention for an entire week!

Not even Kevin and the others who had already mastered the Spark Charm could relax during this Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. The professor chastised them for failing to encourage their classmates’ practice, assigning them the responsibility of tutoring the younger wizards in mastering the spell.

The entire class was an ordeal for the young wizards, but under Professor Lore’s intimidating gaze, none dared to slack off and all practiced diligently, their arms aching with fatigue by the end.

Fortunately, the pressure worked: by the end of class, every young wizard met Professor Lore’s standard and won their freedom.

“See, you are capable of learning.” As the bell rang, Professor Lore stood at the lectern, watching the students file out. “Push yourselves more after class. This is no age of peace—don’t just think about playing all the time!”

Unable to slack off in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Kevin shrugged in mild annoyance and followed his roommates out of the classroom. What he failed to notice was that, as he passed by the lectern, Professor Lore gave his wand a subtle flick…

…

The days that followed were not as overwhelming as the first week of term, but Kevin’s life remained full and bustling.

He maintained a disciplined routine: rising early for morning exercise, breakfasting in the Great Hall, and then reviewing his textbooks there before the day’s lessons began.

With his powerful soul and exceptional memory, Kevin found the first-year curriculum no challenge at all. He often spent his classes reading ahead or poring over Miranda’s notes from the upper years.

Initially, the professors disapproved, calling on him to answer questions. But they soon realized that first-year material was simply beneath him, and stopped bothering with his daydreaming.

All except for one class.

Professor Isad, who taught Herbology, seemed to have taken his absence during the first week personally. She called on him in almost every lesson for answers or demonstrations, and caught any sign of inattention instantly. If not for Miranda’s loaned notes, Kevin might have truly struggled.

“I heard Professor Isad was a Hufflepuff in her school days and was often bullied by Slytherins,” Abraxas, ever well-connected, confided to Kevin later. “She’s probably just waiting for a chance to make things hard for Slytherin students!”

Kevin could only shake his head in resignation, marveling at how petty the witch could be, and had no choice but to pay close attention in class to avoid being embarrassed.

Yet, thanks to Professor Isad’s relentless watchfulness and questioning, Kevin ended up mastering Herbology—a subject he’d never had much interest in—quite thoroughly. In its own way, this was a pleasant surprise.

After his daily lessons, Kevin would usually head to the library to borrow books on alchemy, or retire to the dungeon where his soul resided to practice magic.

The dungeon where Ghost Kevin dwelled had undergone a complete transformation.

The once smooth, bare walls were now carved with deep and elegant patterns. Picturesque landscapes hung from the walls, where an imaginary breeze seemed to rustle the painted trees, lakes, and wheat fields—if one listened closely, one might even hear the soft whisper of wind. Kevin had ordered these paintings from Hogsmeade via owl.

A thick woolen rug now covered the dungeon floor, soft and comfortable underfoot. Against one wall stood two deep green, luxurious armchairs—one large, one small—where Ghost Kevin often pretended to sit, leafing through the alchemical books brought to him by Young Kevin.

The armchairs were not store-bought but the result of Transfiguration. Young Kevin had collected large stones from outside, carried them into the dungeon using his pocket watch’s storage space, and transfigured them into armchairs.

At first, the chairs looked rather crude, but with practice every two days, Young Kevin both sustained the magic in the stones and continually refined the chairs’ style and quality. Gradually, the two understated yet elegant armchairs took shape, testifying to his growing skill in Transfiguration.

Besides the armchairs, a coffee table and a writing desk occupied the other side of the room, filling the cramped dungeon nearly to capacity.

The dungeon wasn’t the only space filling up—Kevin’s pocket watch storage was nearly full as well. As expected, once one gets used to storage containers, there’s never enough room.

Thus, Kevin planned to add the Extension Charm to his study schedule. With his dual-core, dual-process learning method, efficiency was never an issue!

The corridor outside the dungeon had also changed dramatically. Where it had once been dark, damp, and filthy, it now blazed with the light of many torches, brightening the passage considerably. The floor was pristine, free of mud, puddles, or cobwebs.

Outside the door to Ghost Kevin’s dungeon, where Helena spent most of her time, the walls were lined with magical flowers and greenery that needed no sunlight to thrive.

Kevin had arranged this after Helena told him where the kitchens were. He’d gone there and secretly negotiated with the house-elves.

He’d intended to pay the castle’s house-elves for their help in maintaining the dungeon, but they reacted as if mortally offended at the mention of payment, as if the very word were an insult.

Only then did Kevin remember the nature of house-elves. He had no choice but to act the part of a pure-blood and, under the pretense that poor food and rest would affect their ability to fulfill his tasks, forcibly improved their meals and rest as a “reward.”

Seeing their tearful gratitude left him with mixed feelings…

Helena was even harder to deal with than the house-elves. She flatly refused to let Young Kevin spend so much on their behalf, insisting that such a debt could never be repaid.

“But I’m simply improving my own living conditions…” Kevin thought to himself.

Fortunately, he found a solution.

“Helena, do you know why I’ve been studying all these alchemy books lately? It’s because I struck a deal with Kevin,” Ghost Kevin said to her, his voice full of feeling.

“You were born to be a soaring eagle, and the Ravenclaw Tower is where you truly belong. Now, because of me, you linger in this gloomy dungeon instead.

“I know this place can never give you the freedom you deserve, but even the smallest improvement is something; these flowers match your presence perfectly.

“I picked up some alchemical methods during my time in the East, so I’m able to offer Kevin some guidance. The improvements to this place are his payment to me, and, in a way, my humble gift to you.”

Helena covered her mouth, moved beyond words, gazing at Ghost Kevin with misty eyes. Kevin opened his arms and drew her gently into an embrace.

…