Hogwarts: Me? Fight Voldemort?

To prevent the Golden Book from insisting on splitting the money with Jacob, Jimmy gave him a slap in the face, which he liked best, as a reward.

Now everything is ready, all that's left is the text work. Once the text is done, we can start drawing.

"It's finished. Harry, Ron, and Malfoy play with it every day. I had them copy it..."

Hermione perked up when the topic of card games came up. She took it very seriously, treating creating card games like an adult's job, and feeling proud if it succeeded.

"Just write down the card text information you want to write in your notebook."

Because of quality control issues, Jimmy only allowed them to produce the text first. The text was then printed onto cards using movable type, and the movable type could be created using transformation magic.

Friday.

Both Gryffindor and Slytherin have the same schedule on Fridays: two consecutive Potions classes in the morning, and no classes in the afternoon.

With the fun part of making the cards over, Jimmy was about to crack his whip and urge Harry, Ron, and Draco to get to work. The card descriptions and the game rules were ready.

He plans to apply for a patent soon and produce 100 sets before February to test the market. If the response is good, he will recruit employees in March and open a workshop to distribute the products to joke shops in Diagon Alley.

Hermione is proactive enough, and she is very efficient and doesn't need to be urged.

There are also George and Fred, who will share the profits. Once the cards are made, the school's sales and market research work will be handed over to them.

Just as he started working, a troublesome matter came knocking, forcing Jimmy to shift his focus away from his work.

Seamus and Dean Thomas, along with several upperclassmen Gryffindor students, carried a dark object into the Great Hall, calling out Jimmy's name as they ran.

Jimmy was just about to dig in at the long table when he heard someone calling his name. He craned his neck to look and was startled to see a group of people carrying a motionless rocket running in.

"What happened?" Jimmy immediately flipped over the long table to check the situation.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron, who were eating at the same table, exchanged a glance, dropped their food, and went over to check on the situation.

A large crowd gathered immediately, and people at other tables also dropped their food and climbed onto their stools to watch the spectacle.

The word spread like wildfire, and students who love a good spectacle surrounded one side of the auditorium.

Seamus and Dean placed the motionless rocket on the ground. The strong raccoon's eyes were still darting around, which reassured Jimmy.

"I was terrified. I thought the rocket had died from overwork."

"It was petrified, and someone threw it into the woods. It was the prefect who found it," Simonby explained, gesturing as he recounted the story.

Jimmy then noticed Percy had squeezed in, carrying his suitcase. "Jimmy, this is your suitcase."

What was Percy doing in the woods?

Jimmy's mind went blank again, and remembering the important matter, he hurriedly took the suitcase, opened it, and checked the quantity of goods.

After confirming that no goods were missing and that the amount of snacks and money sold by Rocket today matched up, he finally breathed a sigh of relief and asked fiercely, "Who did this!"

“Nobody saw it, me and…” Percy stopped abruptly halfway through his sentence, cleared his throat guiltily, and continued, “Ahem! It was already like this when I got there.”

"We don't know either. Percy couldn't lift the rocket and asked us to help."

"Yes, I didn't see anyone around."

Simo and Dean also said they hadn't found anything.

People around them were trying to help, but no one could explain it clearly; they could only guess.

There are no clues, and no one has seen who did it, so how is it possible to find out who attacked the rocket?

Jimmy stroked his chin thoughtfully. This must be a premeditated sneak attack targeting me!

But I haven't offended anyone recently, have I?

He shook his head again, took out his wand to break the spell on Rocket. Local customs and traditions cannot be judged by common sense; it's best to ask Rocket directly.

The rocket de-petrified, shook itself like a dog shaking off water droplets from its fur, and then stood up and stretched its muscles.

"Did you see who attacked you?" Jimmy asked Rocket.

No one around felt there was anything wrong with asking about the rocket. There are too many animals in the wizarding world that can understand human speech; most owls can understand wizards speaking English.

Rocket gestured with both hands, then shook his head.

Everyone else couldn't understand it, but Jimmy did. "You mean you couldn't see their faces clearly? What about their heights?"

"Gah gah." Rocket climbed onto the stool next to him, roughly traced a line with his claws, then pointed at Percy and extended another claw.

Jimmy understood again, "Five people who are about the same height as Percy?"

Before the matter was resolved, the little witches around them were already laughing like crazy at Rocket's cuteness, and they all reached out to touch Rocket's fur.

Hermione couldn't resist touching it; the hair was soft, but underneath were hard muscles.

What are you all doing here?!

At that moment, Professor McGonagall walked straight in from outside, and the little wizards who had been gathered together scattered like sardines encountering a shark.

Jimmy, Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Seamus remained in the inner circle, having done nothing that would have resulted in a penalty. They stood there confidently.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips when she saw that it was those troublemakers again.

Hermione was afraid that Professor McGonagall would be unhappy, so she quickly stepped forward to explain, "Professor McGonagall, someone has cast a spell on Jimmy's pet and hidden it in the woods!"

“Yes, yes!” Halisimo and the others nodded in agreement.

Jimmy, on the other hand, shook his head. "That's not true."

Hermione said yes, but Jimmy said no, and the perceptive Professor McGonagall immediately realized that what Hermione said had actually happened.

It's highly likely that no one has seen the murderer. As the vice principal, she can't use truth serum on the whole school, so she can only say, "Don't cause trouble. If you encounter any problems, go to the professor."

Chapter 67 Clues from Draco

This matter needs to be investigated thoroughly; this was what Jimmy kept thinking about as he went back to dinner.

Rocket's mobile stall is one of his sources of income. He earned 10 Galleons in just three days. Even if sales drop later, it's still a steady stream of income. How can Rocket make money if people disrupt his stall every time he sets up?

If no one discovers the cursed rocket, will it just sit in some corner and rot without anyone knowing?

These are all questions Jimmy has to consider. There are very few clues, all that is known is that there are five upperclassmen, and the only ones capable of doing such a thing are Slytherins.

After narrowing the scope down to this range and screening through it once, only a dozen or so suspects remain.

Men are more suspicious than women. Jimmy wasn't boxing, but it's true that male idea-makers are more likely to cause trouble than females. This is just reasonable suspicion.

Before the investigation even began, on Saturday morning, Draco secretly sent Jimmy a clue.

"You mean, the people who attacked the rockets were Graham Monta, Eldrey Joe, Aaron Travers, Marcus Flint, Derian Puxi... Puxi? What a strange surname."

In the same old spot, Jimmy listened to the information Draco had gathered from Slytherin.

“It’s not Puxi, it’s Pusai.” Draco’s face turned bright red as he corrected Jimmy’s pronunciation.

Jimmy glanced sideways at the arrogant guy and teased, "Oh, you know quite a bit!"

"I don't understand..." Draco turned his face away, pretending not to know what Jimmy was talking about.

"Alright, keep an eye on him for me." Jimmy stopped teasing the arrogant guy. The arrogant guy now seemed to have been trained by a top-tier S. His words and actions had changed. He was hanging out with Harry all day long, and Slytherin no longer considered him one of their own.

Gore, Crabbe, and even Pansy, who was once his close friend, stopped associating with him.

Only out of consideration for the relationship between the Malfoy family and the Headmaster did they refrain from bullying. The only classmate in Slytherin who could communicate normally with Draco now was Theodore Nott, a loner with his own ideas and a high talent for potions.

Before leaving, Draco explained again, "I really don't understand what you're talking about..."

"Alright, alright, I don't understand, go do your job." Jimmy waved his hand impatiently, as if shooing away a fly, and added, "Don't forget to pay next month's bill. I don't need to remind you, you should be more conscientious. Do you still want treatment?"

"I know, I know..." Draco left hesitantly, feeling that something was wrong, so he kept his head down and thought about it.

When he arrived at the Great Hall and saw Professor McGonagall scolding the Weasley twins, he suddenly realized what was going on, and his face immediately turned ashen, as if he had eaten shit.

I'm the employer, after all!

That damned Blaine actually played me for a fool!

Regardless of Draco's current mood, Jimmy has now arrived at Quirrell's office and is once again receiving secret guidance from Professor Quirrell.

This time, Quirrell taught Jimmy Lockhart's signature move, the Oblivion Charm.

“You invented the Memory Charm, so you should know this spell very well.” Quirrell’s teaching method was the same as Professor McGonagall’s test for the Memory Charm: he turned a book into a large white pig, and made the pig squeal when it forgot something.

Jimmy, who had a considerable understanding of the Oblivion Curse, succeeded on his first attempt.

Quirrell showered Jimmy with praise, calling him the most talented young wizard he had ever seen, and saying that he would definitely be stronger than most wizards in the future, and that none of his classmates could defeat him, and so on...

Jimmy smiled and agreed, but he had a feeling that Quirrell's words were implying something. He thought to himself that it would be more practical to give him some Galleons.

After listening for a while, Quirrell finally got to the point, "Jimmy, Jimmy. Some spells shouldn't be taught to students, but, but you're different. I'll teach you a spell that can help you, and I believe you can use it well!"

Jimmy perked up. "What curse? Professor Quirrell?"

Quirrell simply smiled, and the atmosphere in the entire office instantly turned sinister. He raised his ordinary alder wand and pointed it at the large white boar that was panting softly. "Crucio!"

The sound was like a bone stuck in his throat, being chewed and crushed in a ferocious manner. The big white pig began to wail inexplicably, its voice shrill and terrifying, and the temperature in the room dropped with each wail.

“Crucio!” Quirrell circled behind Jimmy, the slightly trembling wand passing right through his cheek.

The white pig collapsed to the ground in agony, its limbs trembling and its body bent over as if trying to curl itself into a ball.

Jimmy just stared blankly at the big white pig, his vision blurred as if filled with green light, and strange images popped into his head.

A white monkey without a nose chanted a spell at a pig, killing it.

Why is it always pigs?

In a fleeting moment, all sounds vanished, and the pig in front of them transformed back into a book.

Quirrell circled back to Jimmy, gripping the base of his wand with both hands, and said timidly, "Jimmy, I know this is not allowed, but spells are neither good nor bad. You must learn to control them; they are merely tools of power."

He seemed to genuinely care about Jimmy, but Jimmy had no idea what Voldemort was really thinking.

"I'll learn!" Jimmy puffed out his chest, forcefully turning his face red, pretending to be very excited.

The performance fooled Quirrell and Voldemort. Quirrell said, "Good, good! You'll use it to achieve your goal!"

"Crucio!"

“Crucio…”

Jimmy's Crucifixion practice in the morning did not go smoothly. By the end of the private lesson, all Jimmy could do with the Crucifixion was to make the big white pig shudder as if it had been electrocuted.

Jimmy didn't quite understand the spell, but Quirrell still gave him a 20 Galleon reward after class. It was Voldemort's way of rewarding Jimmy for his willingness to learn anything for money.