"Every year, I encounter rebellious students like you, and when they break a leg, they always regret it." Madam Hooch earnestly tried to educate Ian.
Unexpectedly.
The little wizard simply took out a potion that could repair limbs.
"I think they might need this."
Ian also knew Madam Hooch meant well for him, but the practice method of flying at extremely low altitudes didn't fit his high-efficiency learning mode.
"..."
Madam Hooch's expression was extremely interesting.
She was silent for a long time before continuing, "Although your potion seems high quality, it can only reshape limbs. In some dangerous situations, you might not even have the chance to drink a potion...like falling from high altitude."
Before she could finish speaking.
Ian pulled out his wand and conjured a glider behind himself.
"??????"
Madam Hooch was speechless, not knowing how to continue. She couldn't understand why this little wizard, who excelled in other subjects, could never perform outstandingly in her class.
"Sorry, Professor, did I think too comprehensively?" Ian canceled his magic, looking at Madam Hooch with a sarcastically flavored expression.
"..."
Madam Hooch felt her teaching career had faced its biggest challenge. She even began to miss those students who secretly engaged in dangerous flying.
At least other rebels want to learn, right!
For the next ten minutes, Madam Hooch seemed to guess Ian's intention and tried to use various methods to spark his interest in learning. Ian felt the well-intentioned effort of this teacher, but still felt a bit regretful after Madam Hooch let him go, longing that Madam Hooch wasn't as easy to anger as Snape.
"Maybe next time I should learn from Malfoy and snatch someone else's stuff." Ian truly hoped to be banned from flying class. He didn't want to defy Madam Hooch; he just felt he could gain more magic skill level by spending flying class time in the library.
Honestly, Ian's idea was somewhat too narrow-minded. Maybe even the heavens disapproved because after being late for Magic Potion Class, Snape punished him.
Not only couldn't team up with Aurora to brew potions, but had to complete homework under Snape's watchful eyes, brewing three batches in one go that were all sent back by Snape, labeled as inferior potions.
Snape had also developed a heart eye. Ever since the Peeves incident, he hadn't said Ian's potions lacked soul for a long time, only sarcastically suggesting even Diagon Alley wouldn't sell potions of such quality.
Due to not completing last night's punishment as required, Ian could only endure and re-brew the potion for the fourth time until other little wizards had finished class when his potion finally received a cold grunt of approval from Snape. However, just when Ian planned to leave quickly, Snape obviously hadn't let him off completely.
"I recall I reminded you that you cannot use magic when cleaning toilets... Tonight, you'll need to clean them again." Snape blocked the classroom's door beforehand.
"But all the toilets are already very clean now!" Ian regretted not choosing to climb out through the window, only being able to argue his case with Snape.
However.
Snape was prepared for this; he directly waved his wand and pulled a large bucket from under the podium, "Then coat all the toilets with wax!"
This was definitely making trouble for Ian to accept punishment even if there was none.
"Wax the toilets?"
Ian had never seen such an outrageous operation in his life.
He thought this was already absurd enough.
Unexpectedly, Snape showed a faintly amused expression and delivered another shock, "To prevent you from slyly showing your cunning tendencies while I'm not watching, this wax is specially brewed for you. Your magic cannot control it to automatically complete the work that belongs to you."
A potion-brewed wax!
Ian, stubbornly, tried to give it a go, but indeed couldn't manipulate the wax oil in the large bucket, as if something making magic difficult to interact had been added to the wax oil.
"You're actually using such materials to wax the toilets!?"
Ian was bewildered.
Snape seemed satisfied after seeing his expression.
"To deal with cunning and lazy brats like you, special methods must be used." He flicked his cloak, leaving Ian with the bucket of wax oil in the classroom.
"..."
Ian felt Snape's spite and determination to make him suffer even if it required spending money. He was uncomfortable and suspicious in a mystical way whether this was connected to his disobedience in the previous flying class.
"I've suffered karma!"
Ian's luck today wasn't great, as after loading the wax oil into his large-capacity money bag and exiting the classroom, he turned a corner and met a true jinx.
The sunlight shone through the corridor, and in the bright light, a figure wrapped with garlic around the waist and still had a large bandage on his behind approached.
Quirrell, the traitor.
He might have cured his injury long ago, but he definitely couldn't let others know. After undergoing the little wizards' ice and fire assault and physical attacks, he's been pretending his injury was extremely severe, hard to imagine the immense humiliation endured and determination allowing Voldemort to willingly be wrapped in bandages.