Chapter 38
[Name: Firenze (Centaur)]
[Age: 31]
[Spell Inventory: Divination (Mastery), Healing Charm (Mastery), ...]
[Traits: Astrology Race (Purple), Fate Changer (Purple), Close to Nature (Blue)]
...
[Astrology Race (Gold): The centaurs have spent centuries unraveling the mysteries behind planetary movements, passing this knowledge down through their race, instilling in them a reverence for fate. You have perfectly inherited all of this.]
[Fate Changer (Purple): Born into a race obsessed with fate, you developed rebellious thoughts, daring to defy your own destiny. This means your fate will ultimately diverge from that of your race!]
[Close to Nature (Blue): Born in nature, raised in nature, you possess rich experience and magic for living in dense forests, allowing you to focus primarily on interpreting natural phenomena.]
...
While Harry and Malfoy were fiercely battling in the sky over Neville's Remembrall, the surrounding students were shouting and cheering.
Devero, leisurely standing on the ground, was recalling the encounter in the Forbidden Forest earlier.
As soon as Firenze appeared, Devero had guessed his identity—a centaur who, in the original story, would become the Divination professor in the fifth year. Devero thought he was incredibly cool. No wonder he later charmed a ton of girls when teaching at the school.
However, Devero didn't load Firenze's traits. Although the [Astrology Race] trait seemed incredibly valuable and could enhance Devero's divination talents, after the warning from loading [Wilderness of Knowledge] previously, Devero had become extremely cautious about copying traits from other races.
What if loading it turned him into a half-human, half-horse creature? That would be a disaster!
So, Devero restrained himself and didn't load the trait.
Still, based on the trait's description, this so-called astrology seemed to fall within the realm of knowledge. And if it was knowledge, it could be learned!
With Devero's current [Magical Prodigy] and [Test-Taking Genius] traits, as long as Firenze was willing to teach, there was no reason Devero couldn't learn it.
So, Devero secretly decided that he would make sure Trelawney, that useless old fraud, gave up some of her class time to Firenze! He didn't want to learn some bizarre divination method that involved cursing himself to death.
While thinking about this, the aerial battle reached a fever pitch.
"There's no Crabbe or Goyle to protect you up here, Malfoy," Harry shouted loudly. His movements were fluid, as if he was born to soar through the skies!
A few swift side collisions left Malfoy looking utterly disheveled. The way he looked at Harry was starting to show signs of panic.
"Here, let's see if you can catch it!" Malfoy yelled, hurling the glass Remembrall high into the air before rapidly descending toward the ground.
While everyone's attention was drawn to Harry chasing the Remembrall, Devero's lips curled into a smirk. His hand, hidden under his robe, subtly opened.
Suddenly, Malfoy felt his body being pulled by some invisible force. He had to grip his broom tightly, letting out a sharp scream: "Help!"
Everyone then witnessed the comical sight of Malfoy clinging to his broom, crying hysterically in midair.
Devero's fingers flicked upward, and Malfoy, along with his broom, was sent soaring to a height of thirty feet!
At that moment, he was too terrified to even scream. His face was pale, and his body trembled as he clung to his broom for dear life.
Meanwhile, Harry had successfully caught the Remembrall, but no one was paying attention to that anymore.
All eyes were on Malfoy, who was now plummeting toward the ground at breakneck speed!
At that height, he'd surely die!
As the ground rushed closer, Malfoy's mind was filled with despair. He felt a warm sensation between his legs.
But as he got closer to the ground, a sudden resistance slowed his fall. Malfoy came to a stop just half a meter from the ground, collapsing in a trembling heap, grateful to have survived.
Devero sauntered over.
"Whoa, you're that scared? Maybe the Malfoy family just doesn't have the genes for flying. Better stay on the ground," Devero said with a wicked grin.
Malfoy stared at Devero, that signature smirk giving him a gut feeling.
"It was you! You tried to kill me!" Malfoy scrambled to his feet, pointing furiously at Devero.
But the crowd's attention was on Malfoy's soaked pants, dripping pathetically.
"What? I was just concerned for you," Devero said, his smile unwavering.
"Malfoy! Potter! In all my years at Hogwarts, I've never…" Professor McGonagall's furious roar echoed from nearby.
Her glasses flashed with anger as she struggled to find words.
"How dare you… Potter, you could've broken your neck… Malfoy, you could've died!"
"Professor! He set me up! He cursed me!" Malfoy pointed at Devero again, accusing him.
"Impossible! Who heard me cast a spell?" Devero retorted confidently, turning to the crowd.
Everyone was still in shock. No one had heard Devero cast anything. Besides, Devero's reputation had been improving lately, while Malfoy was known as a notorious bully who always caused trouble.
No one spoke up for him. The crowd remained silent.
McGonagall's face darkened further.
"Malfoy! Disregarding class rules, engaging in dangerous behavior, and slandering a classmate!"
Malfoy, still fuming, pointed at Devero again.
"He bumped into me earlier! That's when he cursed me! He used a silent spell!"
Devero raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised.
Malfoy had actually noticed those details? He wasn't as dumb as he seemed!
But unfortunately for him…
"Professor, here's my wand. You can perform a Priori Incantatem to check if I did anything," Devero said, prepared as ever.
He pulled his only wand from his waist and handed it to McGonagall, then emptied his pockets to show he wasn't carrying a second wand.
McGonagall took the wand.
The warmth between Malfoy's legs had completely faded, replaced by a cold sensation that jolted his mind back to clarity.
He was starting to waver. Was he certain Devero had cursed him?
If Devero hadn't done anything, what would happen to him? What punishment would he face?
***
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