Everyday Life of a Top Student at Hogwarts

In the early morning, Karen tiptoed out of her four-poster bed.

After getting dressed, he picked up his timetable from the bedside table and checked it again. The morning consisted of Herbalism and Flying classes, while the afternoon was Snape's Potions class. As a transmigrator, he felt both anticipation and apprehension towards Snape's lessons.

Although Snape was a good person overall, his attitude towards teaching, apart from Slytherin, was not very friendly.

"Oh, Karen, you always get up so early." Wesley muttered as he poked his head out from under the covers, his reddish-brown hair a mess that looked like it had been crawled over by a snail shell.

"I'm used to it," Karen replied briefly, squeezing toothpaste onto her toothbrush.

Fabian woke up too, fumbling for his glasses and putting them on. "I can smell breakfast," he sniffed. "Hopefully there will be a smoked meat sandwich today."

Ernesto was the last to get up, his gray eyes still heavy with sleep. His movements as he straightened his pajamas still carried the elegance characteristic of a pure-blood family, but were much more casual than on the first day of school. "Flying class..." he muttered to himself, then suddenly perked up, stealing a glance at Karen, "Finally, an interesting class."

Karen noticed the anticipation in Ernesto's eyes. Born into a pure-blood family, Ernesto likely had flying experience from a young age. This reminded him of his own past in the original world, where he couldn't even ride a bicycle properly, and he couldn't help but feel a little apprehensive about his upcoming flight lessons.

For breakfast, Karen took a bowl of oatmeal and a few slices of toast, and ate while flipping through "A Thousand Wonderful Herbs and Mushrooms".

"Reading again," Wesley mumbled, stuffing a sausage into his mouth. "You should try this; it's much better than my mom's sausages!"

"Herbalism..." Karen closed the book thoughtfully. "Did you know that many of the plants grown in the Hogwarts greenhouses are considered mythical or extinct in the Muggle world?"

Fabian pushed up his glasses: "My mother grows some magical plants in her herb garden, but not nearly as many as at Hogwarts, though they're still quite amazing. My father always shakes his head and says it's not scientific whenever he sees them."

After breakfast, the four boys followed the other first-year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students to the greenhouse behind the castle.

The greenhouse was much larger than Karen had imagined, its glass dome shimmering in the sunlight. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, a wave of warm, humid air rushed out, carrying the fragrance of earth and plants. Inside, dozens of long tables were arranged, piled high with plants of all shapes and sizes, some even gently wriggling.

"Welcome to Greenhouse Number One!" a cheerful voice came from behind a clump of tall plants. Professor Pomona Sprout emerged, wearing thick, patched gloves and a few specks of dirt on her robes. "Find a place, children. Today we'll learn how to prepare Dictamnus dasycarpus."

Karen chose a seat near the front, his grey-blue eyes scanning the surrounding plants with curiosity. In his "Eye of Truth," these plants emitted magical halos of different colors—some a soft green, some a bright gold, and others a deep, menacing red. The magic of magical plants was indeed different from that of wizards.

"Herbalism teaches you how to care for and utilize magical plants," Professor Sprout brushed the dirt off his hands. "But remember, never underestimate them. Even the most harmless plant can become deadly under certain conditions."

She held up a plant with thick, serrated leaves: "Today's star is Dictamnus dasycarpus, a powerful healing herb. Can anyone tell me its main uses?"

Karen didn't raise his hand; he knew the answer but didn't want to continue speaking. To his surprise, Ernesto raised his hand.

"It's used to treat wounds and skin problems, Professor," Ernesto said.

"Very good, Ravenclaw, three points." Professor Sprout smiled. "Indeed, dictamnus extract is a base ingredient in many healing potions. Now, watch how I properly collect its leaves..."

Karen intently observed the professor's movements, while secretly activating his "Eye of Truth." In his special vision, as Professor Sprout cut the leaf with his silver knife, he clearly saw a milky-white magical energy seep from the cut, then magically seal itself off.

"Silver tools must be used when harvesting, and the movements must be quick and precise," Professor Sprout explained. "This will minimize damage to the plant and preserve the most healing magic."

When it was the students' turn to practice, Karen found that he didn't really have much of an advantage. Herbalism relied more on patience and meticulous handling than pure magical talent. He carefully followed the professor's demonstration to cut a leaf, noticing that his cuts lost more magic than the professor's.

"Good technique, Mr. Hawthorne," Professor Sprout commented as he passed by. "But next time, you could be a little more decisive."

A scream came from Wesley's direction—he had cut too deep, and the entire white succulent suddenly gushed out a stream of milky white liquid, splashing onto his robe.

"Don't worry, it's harmless." Professor Sprout quickly cleaned the stain with his wand. "But remember, if you treat magical plants roughly, they will 'fight back'."

Fabian's performance was surprisingly good; the way he adjusted his glasses reminded Karen of a science student from her past life. "I often help my mother process herbs," he explained quietly, noticing Karen's gaze.

At the end of the class, each student collected a small bottle of daffodil leaves. Professor Sprout assigned reading homework and reminded them that the next class would be about more "lively" plants.

Stepping out of the greenhouse, the four boys basked in the bright sunlight. Karen was still pondering the magical flow patterns of the enchanted plants, especially the relationship between White Fresh's self-healing mechanism and magic.

"Herbalism class is more interesting than I expected," Wesley said excitedly, "although my robes almost got ruined."

"Three herbalism classes a week, but only one potions class," Fabian said thoughtfully. "This arrangement is a bit strange."

Karen shared her thoughts: "I think that makes sense. Understanding the properties of herbs is fundamental to potion making. The method of processing dictamnus that Professor Sprout mentioned today will be used when making healing potions."

"So you mean Herbalism is actually a prerequisite for Potions?" Ernesto asked.

"At least that should be the case in the lower grades," Karen nodded. "Imagine, if you can't even tell the difference between mandrake and poisonous tentacles, how dare you touch their extracts?"

Ernesto nodded thoughtfully; this simple logic clearly impressed him.

The flight lesson took place on a flat lawn on the other side of the castle. When they arrived, a row of old brooms was already neatly arranged on the ground.

"I could fly around the yard on a toy broom when I was five," a Ravenclaw student boasted. "My dad says I was born to be a Seeker."

"That's nothing!" Ernesto couldn't help but join in, a competitive glint in his grey eyes. "The Griffith family has a tradition that on your seventh birthday, you must ride a broomstick through the family's maze garden. I did it in less than ten minutes."

Upon hearing Ernesto's words, Karen couldn't help but smile, never expecting Ernesto to have this side to him.

Wesley whispered to Karen, "I didn't learn to ride a bicycle until I was ten, and I even broke my wrist."

"beep--"

Lady Hooch, a witch with sharp yellow eyes and short grey hair, blew her whistle. "Stand by the brooms, one for everyone!" Her voice was as sharp as her eyes.

Karen looked down at the broom assigned to him, his heart sinking. The broom's branches were jagged, and most of the paint on the handle had peeled off, making it look like it had been salvaged from a junkyard. In his "Eye of Truth," the magic flowing through the broom was weak and unstable.

"Extend your right hand and place it above the broom," Mrs. Hodge demonstrated, "and then firmly say, 'Get up!'"

"Get up!" Shouts echoed throughout the venue.

Ernesto's broom immediately leaped into his hand, the movement as fluid as if it were an extension of his arm. Several students, clearly with flying experience, also succeeded. Fabian managed to lift his broom after three attempts.

Karen stared intently at his broom, imagining it flying into his hand. "Get up!" he commanded, his voice firm and resolute.

The broom didn't budge.

"Get up!" He tried again, this time with even more force.

The broomstick only rolled half a circle on the ground before continuing to play dead.

Wesley wasn't much better off; his broom even rolled further away on purpose when he gave the command. "This thing has a temper!" he exclaimed in surprise.

Mrs. Hodge came over and gave them some advice on adjusting their hand gestures. Karen tried again, and the broom finally shook reluctantly, but it was still far from actually flying.

"Looks like even our genius has his weaknesses," Ernesto said, approaching with a slightly mocking smile. "Need any help, Karen?"

Karen readily accepted the teasing: "Obviously, brooms aren't as obedient as wands."

"The key is confidence," Ernesto said in a low voice. "Imagine you're not commanding it, but...inviting it. The broom can sense your hesitation."

Karen adjusted his mindset as advised, and this time the broom finally rose slowly into his hand, but the grip was far less natural than Ernesto had described.

"Barely passable," Mrs. Hodge commented. "Next, get on the broom and gently push off the ground..."

The next half hour was pure torture for Karen. While most of his classmates were already able to fly steadily at low altitudes, his broom either refused to ascend or wobbled like a drunkard. Wesley could at least fly in a straight line, though not exceeding two meters in height; Fabian, on the other hand, surprisingly displayed a good sense of balance.

"Look, we're the worst flyers, haha!" Wesley laughed, accidentally bumping into Karen's shoulder, and the two almost fell down together.

Finally, Karen managed to fly around the field once, but at such a slow speed that Mrs. Hodge shook her head in dismay.

"Don't worry," Fabian comforted her as class ended. "My mom said some brooms are just shy around strangers. It'll be much better once you have your own broom."

"Or maybe he just lacks the ability to fly," Ernesto reassured him. "It's okay, Hawthorne, you can crush us in other classes."

“Yes,” Wesley interjected, “if even your flight is perfect, how are we mortals supposed to survive?”

Fabian adjusted his glasses: "Statistically, only 17% of top Quidditch players also excel in Transfiguration. Brain structure might determine..."

Karen couldn't help but laugh as she listened to her roommates' teasing.

"Alright, gentlemen," he dusted off his robes, "let's go eat first. Professor Snape's Potions class awaits us this afternoon."