NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 32: 《HP: Too Late, System!》Chapter 32: Attacks Aren't Just Magical—They're Physical, Too
The students below recited their lessons at full volume while Douglas sat above, grading their homework.
A quick comparison told him everything he needed to know. Aside from Hermione, who had turned in her assignment ages ago, the rest of the class took the instructions quite literally—if he asked for a certain number of inches, that's exactly what they wrote. Some clever clogs even tried to game the system, stretching their handwriting and spacing to pad the length.
Heh, classic schoolyard tricks—ones he'd mastered himself back in the day.
Without a hint of mercy, Douglas marked those efforts with a big, fat P.
Digging into the content, his expectations for second-years dropped even further. Especially now that Hermione had handed in her work and set the bar, everyone else was flying blind. Their answers soared into the stratosphere—especially when it came to Boggarts. Nearly every response was a textbook copy-paste.
With thirty minutes left in the lesson, Douglas finally canceled his silencing charm and called for quiet.
"Miss Granger, please record the assignment grades and hand them back.
And those of you who got a P—redo your homework and give it to Miss Granger before next class!"
As Hermione collected the papers, chaos erupted.
Ron leaned over to Harry, worry etched on his face.
"Harry, d'you reckon mine got a P?"
Harry Potter grimaced.
"If yours did, I'm pretty sure mine's not any better!"
Douglas rapped his textbook against the desk.
"Settle down! Let's talk about some of the issues with your assignments."
He fixed his gaze on Neville Longbottom.
"Mr. Longbottom, would you care to explain where you got the idea to get a Boggart drunk with beer? Hmm?"
When he'd been grading, that answer had caught his eye—and so had the name beside it. Who would've thought the most honest, straight-laced student in class could be so imaginative?
Laughter rippled through the room as Neville stood, his face crimson.
"P-Professor Holmes, my uncle told me about it once. He said… he met a Boggart that turned into my gran, and then he just kept drinking with it until the Boggart got drunk!"
Douglas shrugged, suppressing a smile.
"Regrettably, Boggarts only transform into whatever you fear most. Honestly, who invites their worst nightmare out for drinks? My guess is, your uncle used a spell to make the Boggart-gran act like a drunkard."
But seeing Neville's unconvinced expression, Douglas had an idea.
"Tell you what, Mr. Longbottom—someday soon, you'll all get to face a Boggart in practical class. I find your approach rather intriguing. I'll make sure to bring along a little something from my private collection so you can see for yourself if a Boggart can be drunk under the table!"
The sixth-year practical classroom was tucked away in the dungeons, not far from Professor Snape's Potions lab. Unfortunately, every time Douglas passed by, Snape was busy teaching—so the two had yet to cross paths.
When Douglas arrived at the sixth-year practical room, a dozen students were already waiting. They clutched parchment and, in some cases, library books about Inferi. Without ceremony, Douglas collected all the parchments and books.
"Sorry, but there won't be time to go over your homework today.
But I think you've already guessed what's in store for this practical.
As I said before: whoever scores highest today becomes the sixth-year class representative."
Relief swept through the group—at least they hadn't slacked off on their Inferi research.
Before Douglas could even call names, a Slytherin in green
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