Good Helper with a Golden Hat

The setting sun streamed through the open windows into the attic, bathing all the students in a warm, golden light. But looking at Professor Victor's somber expression, not a single student felt the warmth of the sunlight…

When is your premonition strongest?

Does it count now?

Several students swallowed hard, watching the professor nervously.

However, some students in the classroom clearly couldn't sense the change in atmosphere, such as Mr. Flint of Slytherin.

The burly Flint is the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. Unfortunately, he is also the least bright among the students who are good at using dirty tricks. He only became captain because of his immense strength (especially his ability to knock Gryffindors away on flying broomsticks).

In the brief silence of the classroom, Flint began to make sarcastic and provocative remarks to Wood, his long-time rival, who sat at the same table as him.

"A premonition? Do you have that kind of thing? I remember you always confidently saying your house would win before the Quidditch Cup." He elbowed Wood in the arm.

"...Don't get too cocky, Flint, we're definitely going to win this year," Wood said through gritted teeth.

"Relying on that Potter? He's only a freshman. I think you're obsessed with the School Cup."

"Heh, you guys are the ones who should try. Next time, you dare not use dirty tricks..."

"Cough cough."

A voice suddenly came from behind the two who were about to start arguing, causing Flint and Wood to pause involuntarily. When they turned around, they found Victor standing behind them at some point, looking at them with a half-smile.

...No, does the professor have an automatic backstab skill?

Weren't you just sitting there? Why did you suddenly run over here?

Wood's face fell, while Flint glared at his classmate next to him, as if blaming him for not informing him.

"Flint, Wood, stand up."

"Why don't you two try it first?"

Victor spoke to the two of them calmly.

"No problem, Professor," Flint said gruffly and confidently. "My intuition is strongest when I'm fighting... so can I fight Wood?"

"no."

Victor didn't want to waste his breath arguing with him.

After he finished speaking, he walked back to the fireplace under the curious gazes of the students and took out a golden pointed hat—the hat looked very similar to the Sorting Hat, but the patterns on it were more prominent.

"The first thing you need to do is aim at this hat and say the incantation you just recited."

Victor placed the hat on the front table.

"It is important to note that the tone of the last paragraph should be higher than the first two paragraphs, and the emphasis should be placed on the last character to maintain the overall flow of the spell. Otherwise, you will be cursed like a wicked witch from the West."

Wood raised his hand high again, but this time, Victor knew what he wanted to ask without letting him speak.

"Don't worry," he added calmly, "the curse of this hat won't have much effect on young people, you just need to avoid getting it wet for the next week."

"If you unfortunately get your hair wet, don't worry—it will only cause hair loss. Your hair will grow back naturally after seven days."

"...Hair loss for seven days?"

Several female classmates stared in astonishment, their eyes widening in horror as they looked at the hat.

"Yes, and I don't think hair growth drugs can shorten the process, after all, hair loss when it gets wet is part of the curse."

Victor calmly said, "In fact, the effect of this curse is quite strong. It's nothing to a normal wizard, but it's fatal to wizards with lifespans that defy common sense."

"Anyone who doesn't use the hat correctly more than twice will be cursed forever. In our land, the Wicked Witch of the West even ended her centuries-long reign with a handful of water." (The Wizard of Oz)

The students listened intently, and by the end, they showed some interest in the hat—but not much, because they were only teenagers and had no reason to worry about things that people hundreds of years old should worry about.

Most students are more afraid of hair loss.

The girls' expressions turned even more serious, looking at the hat as if facing a formidable enemy.

After a few seconds of silence, Flint asked impatiently, "Professor, this has nothing to do with prophecy, does it? Are you saying that our strongest premonition is when we start losing our hair?"

"Of course not."

Victor slightly raised his hand to Flint, gesturing for him to stand at the front of the classroom.

Flint did as he was told, without a second thought.

After he regained his footing, Victor said, "Let's begin," and then, while Flint was chanting the incantation, he explained the connection between the hat and the premonition:

"...In fact, the spell 'Zeshzek' was not originally used to enhance prophetic abilities, but rather as a spell to connect with the spiritual realm, allowing one to establish a bond with the hat. However, because establishing a spiritual bond can also work on anything else, I modified the spell for prophecy."

"Its original purpose was to summon some winged monkeys from this hat and make them do three things for you."

"These monkeys are actually free now, so they only come out randomly when they feel like it, and then force others..."

Before Victor could finish speaking, the golden hat suddenly made a "bang!" sound, and five or six strange-looking little monkeys popped out of it.

These little monkeys were about the size of a palm, with brown bodies, red faces, and black wings like eagle wings. As they flew out of the hat, they let out an unpleasant "caw caw caw" laugh.

Oh right, each of the monkeys also has a small golden fork in its hand, which occasionally flashes with a strange light.

The moment they burst forth, they charged at Flint, raising their forks high, the tips aimed sharply at the unsuspecting Flint's rear end—

Flint immediately tried to raise his wand in resistance, but a flying monkey had already slipped into the side of his cloak, stolen the wand, and carried it high onto the roof.

The remaining monkeys chattered and made cunning "quack quack" sounds as they poked his butt with the golden fork.

"Aww!"

Flint yelled, clutching his backside, and jumped to his feet. His face was contorted in a grimace, as if his bottom had been burned by a monkey's golden fork!

But nothing actually happened; not even a single thread on his cloak was torn.

After a while, the flying monkeys started giggling again and began chasing Flint in groups, wanting to keep poking his butt. Flint could only frantically try to dodge and started running forward as fast as he could.

All the students looked at each other blankly as Flint began running laps around the divination room. One or two students ducked as the monkey charged at them, afraid it might poke them too—but the good news was that the monkey seemed only interested in Flint.

These monkeys would even poke Flint when he was about to accidentally bump into a classmate, making him avoid the wrong path.

Flint started running laps around the classroom...

Only then did Victor slowly finish speaking:

"...Once you're chosen, these mischievous monkeys will force you to run twenty laps, and poke you along the way."

"Of course, many of you have probably already noticed that their golden forks also have special illusion magic, the effects of which are random. Sometimes you will feel a burning sensation when you are poked, and sometimes you will hear a sharp song that is between life and death, which will enlighten your spirituality."

"So don't forget to chant the spell while you're running! If you chant it correctly, you can speed up and avoid their forks..."

At this moment, Flint was caught up again. After screaming, he clutched his stomach, and his face seemed to turn purple.

Seeing his expression, Victor paused suspiciously for a moment.

Ok……

...Sometimes it can even cause bladder pain.

There's no need to elaborate further; it's just phantom pain anyway.

Victor's gaze wandered for a moment before he sat back down in his chair and quickly resumed instructing the nervous students to come up on stage one by one to try on the hats—there were at least twenty flying monkeys inside the hats, enough to handle any number of students randomly.

In fact, everyone's strongest premonition is different. Some people have the strongest premonition when the teacher calls their name, some when taking attendance, and some even when facing life and death...

But it doesn't matter, the flying monkeys can create all the illusions they can think of, even the random name selection is the same.

When you feel a strong sense of unease while chanting a mantra—

That means you're going to have a really bad day for the whole class.