ã€ŠHarry Potter: Returning from Hogwarts Legacyã€‹


 Chapter 3: Hagrid

    Hearing Hagrid''s words, Harry sharply caught a detail in his speech.

    "So... you knew my parents?"

    Then he realized it was quite rude to keep someone standing at the door, so he invited, "Sorry, that was impolite of me, Mr. Hagrid. Pleasee in."

    "Oh no, no, I''m far too tall; I wouldn''t fit in this house," Hagrid replied, slightly embarrassed. "Besides, I need to take you to Diagon Alley. If you don''t mind, we can talk on the way."

    "Alright," Harry nodded. Hagrid immediately stepped aside to let Harry pass through the doorway.

    It wasn''t until Harry stepped outside that he realized just how tall Hagrid really was.

    "Wow, you''re huge," Harry said, tilting his head up, hismenting out dry.

    "You''re not the first to say that, Harry. Now, let''s get going¡ª" Hagrid paused halfway through his sentence, awkwardly scratching his shaggy head. "Shouldn''t we let your aunt know? She is your guardian, after all."

    "I think my uncle and aunt would be delighted for you to take me away," Harry said, his toneyered with meaning.

    "Really?" Hagrid asked suspiciously.

    Just then, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from inside the house, followed by a loud roar.

    "Harry Potter¡ª"

    Hearing Uncle Vernon''s voice, Hagrid''s attention shifted, and Harry tugged on his sleeve, pointing behind him.

    "Hagrid, what¡¯s that?"

    While Hagrid turned to look, Harry spun around, just in time to see Uncle Vernon charging down the stairs like a truck.

    Covering his mouth with one hand, Harry focused on Uncle Vernon, muttering a spell softly under his breath.

    "Confundus!"

    Uncle Vernon stopped in his tracks, squinting at Harry, then at Hagrid, who was still looking away. Muttering something iprehensible, he turned around and marched back upstairs, as if he''d suddenly remembered something.

    When Hagrid finally turned back, he scratched his head in confusion. "I didn¡¯t see anything. What did you see?"

    "I must''ve been mistaken. I thought it was a motorbike."

    As he said this, Harry suddenly recalled a dream he¡¯d had before. "It was like the motorbike that often appears in my dreams¡ªthe one that flies."

    "Harry..." Hagrid''s face lit up with delight. "You still remember! You remember how I rode a motorbike to bring you to the Dursleys''!"

    Before Hagrid could finish, a rapid knocking on the window interrupted him.

    Both turned to look. Uncle Vernon was outside, pointing furiously at them, his mouth moving wordlessly.

    "Your uncle... what¡¯s he doing?" Hagrid asked instinctively, sensing that Mr. Dursley¡¯s attitude wasn¡¯t friendly.

    Harry shaded his eyes with his hand and exined, "Oh, Uncle Vernon is just telling me to be happy."

    Hagrid hesitated, ncing up at Uncle Vernon, who was still angrily pointing and shouting, then looking down at Harry. "It doesn¡¯t seem like it to me."

    "Well, they¡¯re Muggles," Harry said, his tone solemn as he wiped away invisible tears. "You know, their way of showing love is different from wizards''. After all, I lost my mom at such a young age..."@@novelbin@@

    "Oh, Harry..." Hagrid leaned downpassionately and enveloped Harry in a massive hug.

    Harry didn¡¯t resist the gesture, and when Hagrid released him, he looked up and asked, "So, Hagrid, how are we going to travel?"

    "Hmm... we¡¯ll take the train. On my way here, I heard there¡¯s a train to London from Surrey every hour," Hagrid said before asking, "By the way, Harry, did you bring the letter from school?"

    Harry patted the pocket near his chest, beaming up at Hagrid. "Got it, right here!"

    "Goodd," Hagrid said, his own grin broadening as he ruffled Harry¡¯s messy hair. "You¡¯re so much like your mother. Alright, let¡¯s head to the station."

    Hagrid¡¯s massive frame naturally drew attention. He got stuck at the ticket barrier andter had to upy two seats on the train.

    Once they were settled, Harry broke the silence. "Hagrid, you seem to know my parents?"

    "Oh, of course I do." Hagrid chuckled heartily as he worked on a bright yellow, circus-like knitted bag, which seemed to muffle his booming voice as he continued. "When they were students, I got along quite well with both of them. Especially your mother, Lily¡ªshe was Head Girl. Such a kind and gentle soul, we all adored her."

    "And your father, James, was Gryffindor¡¯s famous Quidditch Chaser and Head Boy," Hagrid reminisced, his beetle-ck eyes gleaming. "A fine man, in every way... I¡¯ve never known anyone as loyal as him."

    "Really?" Harry''s eyes sparkled with excitement.

    For so many lonely nights, he had longed for a father¡¯s and mother¡¯s love. Whenever he saw Dudley spoiled by his aunt and uncle, Harry couldn¡¯t help but wonder: if his parents had lived, would he have been cherished like that?

    Not treated like an unwanted guest, enduring their disdain.

    The thought made Harry furious. Rage bubbled inside him as he imagined finding the dark wizard who had orphaned him and making him pay dearly.

    "Yes, Harry," Hagrid said, oblivious to Harry¡¯s shifting emotions, lost in his memories of the Potters. "It¡¯s such a shame... such a shame about what happened ten years ago..."

    "So..." Harry''s eyes shed. "The dark wizard who killed my parents¡ªwho is he?"

    Hagrid shuddered at the question. "It¡¯s... the You-Know-Who."

    "You-Know-Who?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

    "Yes, You-Know-Who," Hagrid said, coughing to mask his fear. "That dark wizard, he..."

    Noticing Hagrid¡¯s unease, Harry ced a hand on his arm, offeringfort. "Actually, I don¡¯t need to know if it¡¯s too hard to say..."

    "Oh no, Harry," Hagrid shook his head firmly. "I can¡¯t let you go to Hogwarts not knowing a thing."

    "But unless it¡¯s absolutely necessary, I¡¯d rather not say his name¡ªno one likes to."

    "So everyone just calls him ''You-Know-Who''?" Harry asked, eyebrow raised again.

 Chapter 6: Gringotts Vault

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve brought it,¡± Hagrid said, rummaging in his pocket as he spoke.

    First, he pulled out two dormice and ced them on the counter, then a puffskein. Finally, after searching for a while, he exhaled in relief.

    ¡°Found it.¡± Hagrid held up a tiny golden key.

    The goblin took the key, examined it carefully, and then handed it back to Hagrid.

    ¡°Seems to be in order.¡±

    ¡°I also have a letter from Professor Dumbledore himself,¡± Hagrid said nonchntly, pulling a crumpled letter from his pocket. ¡°It¡¯s about the item in Vault 713.¡±

    Harry realized Hagrid was talking about something secret, but Hagrid¡¯s voice was so loud that he couldn¡¯t help overhearing the words ¡°Vault 713¡¯s item.¡±

    What was this, loudly plotting secrets? Harry found it both funny and exasperating.

    The goblin epted the letter, carefully inspecting the magical seals before reading it thoroughly. Afterward, he nodded and said, ¡°Very well, I¡¯ll have someone escort you¡ªGriphook!¡±

    At the goblin¡¯s call, another goblin, short and dressed formally, approached them.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go,¡± Hagrid said, patting Harry on the shoulder to signal him to follow. ¡°We¡¯ll get your money first, then take care of business.¡±

    ¡°Hey, your animals,¡± the goblin at the counter reminded loudly.

    Hagrid suddenly remembered the small creatures still on the desk. He went back to retrieve the dormice and puffskein, which were still bewildered, and stuffed them back into hisrge pocket before striding off after Griphook.

    Harry and Hagrid followed Griphook to a cart, which sped swiftly along the tracks toward the vaults.

    The cart moved so fast that the cold air roared past them, making Harry¡¯s eyes sting.

    Noticing that neither Hagrid nor Griphook was paying attention to him, Harry conjured a small magical shield in front of his face to block the wind.

    ¡°Hagrid, do you really think my family left me money?¡± Harry asked, still worried.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Harry,¡± Hagrid reassured him with a chuckle. ¡°You¡¯re worried about money? Ha! If James knew, he¡¯d¡ª¡±

    Before he could finish, the cart screeched to a halt.@@novelbin@@

    ¡°We¡¯ve arrived,¡± Griphook said in a businesslike tone.

    Hagrid stepped forward and unlocked the vault with the key.

    ¡°Wow...¡±

    Harry was dazzled by the piles of gold coins inside. Who would have thought he had such a small fortune buried deep beneath London?

    For some reason, the sight made him think of the golden-haired girl he¡¯d met on the train in his first year.

    The girl, proud and arrogant, always unted her father¡¯s wealth and mocked his poverty, often attempting to recruit him as herckey.

    Especially that summer after his second year...

    ¡°Oh? What are you doing here? Buying second-hand robes?¡±

    Outside Twilfitt and Tattings, Cassandra Malfoy stood haughtily, looking down her nose at a bashful Harry.

    Harry didn¡¯t mind her ridicule, though. Compared to the Dursleys, herments were quite mild.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Harry smiled at the blonde girl. ¡°Are there any here you¡¯ve worn before?¡±

    At his words, her grey eyes filled with disdain. She turned and left the shop without a word.

    That afternoon, he received two used Slytherin robes...

    ¡°Harry? Harry?¡±

    Hagrid¡¯s voice snapped him back to reality. Hagrid grinned and said, ¡°See? I wasn¡¯t lying. Your family left you quite a bit of money.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Harry, still marveling at the wealth, thought to himself that he might even be richer than the Malfoys now.

    ¡°These gold coins are called Galleons, the silver ones are Sickles, and the bronze ones are Knuts,¡± Hagrid exined patiently. ¡°Seventeen Sickles make a Galleon, and twenty-nine Knuts make a Sickle. Easy enough, right?¡±

    As he spoke, Hagrid helped Harry stuff coins into his pockets.

    Easy enough?

    No matter how many times he heard it, Harry couldn¡¯t help butin internally about the wizarding currency system.

    When would the wizarding world learn from Muggles and reform their currency system? Even a tradition-bound ce like Britain had ditched its old system in 1971.

    ¡°Alright, this shouldst you two terms. The rest will stay safe here,¡± Hagrid said, packing Harry¡¯s pockets with coins before turning to Griphook. ¡°Now take us to Vault 713, but can you slow the cart down a bit?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s only one speed,¡± Griphook replied curtly.

    Hagrid shrugged at Harry helplessly. Harry didn¡¯t mind, though, as he had his mini magical shield.

    The door to Vault 713 had no keyhole, something Harry noticed immediately.

    ¡°Step back,¡± Griphook said solemnly, extending a long finger to tap the door lightly. The door melted away piece by piece.

    ¡°Only Gringotts goblins should do this,¡± Griphook warned. ¡°Unless you want to be sucked into the door and nevere out.¡±

    The vault was bound to hold something incredibly valuable, Harry thought as he watched Griphook and Hagrid enter. Momentster, they emerged.

    Instantly, Harry felt a strong surge of ancient magical energy emanating from the item Hagrid was carrying.

    He regretted not going in to see it for himself. He could feel that the item had something to do with ancient magic, which couldn¡¯t be used before the age of fifteen¡ªonly sensed.

    His intuition told him that the item could bypass the age restriction.

    ¡°What is that?¡± Harry asked, trying to sound like an inquisitive eleven-year-old.

    ¡°Oh, no, Harry, I can¡¯t tell you that,¡± Hagrid said hastily. ¡°It¡¯s a task Professor Dumbledore gave me, to deliver it to Hogwarts¡ªwell, he strictly forbade me from talking about it. Sorry,d.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s alright,¡± Harry said, nodding in understanding. If it was a secret, he couldn¡¯t press Hagrid for details.

    Besides, Hagrid had already be a friend in his heart, a towering and kind presence.

    And Hagrid¡¯s earlier unfinished sentence had given him a clue.

    Since it was going to Hogwarts, he¡¯d have plenty of chances to study it after term started.

    <strong>------</strong>

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 Chapter 8: Magic Wand and Birthday Present

    Mr. Ollivander opened his mouth slightly, clearly not expecting Harry to say something like that.@@novelbin@@

    To avoid an awkward silence, Mr. Ollivander decided to change the topic.

    "Thank you, Mr. Potter," he said, turning back to the counter. He pulled out a measuring tape and then asked, "Which arm do you usually use for your wand?"

    "My right hand, sir," Harry replied, maintaining a polite smile.

    "Raise your arm, oh good." Mr. Ollivander began taking Harry''s measurements, from his shoulder to fingertips, then wrist to elbow, and even from his shoulder to the floor.

    Harry couldn¡¯t figure out why buying a wand required such precise measurements. It wasn''t as though he was buying clothes. Did they really need to measure his waist, too?

    As he measured, Mr. Ollivander exined¡ªthough to Harry, it sounded more like a lecture about dragon heartstrings, phoenix feathers, and unicorn hair. He didn¡¯t exin why he needed to take so many measurements.

    After what felt like ages, the measuring process finally ended, and Harry let out a small sigh of relief.

    "Alright," Mr. Ollivander said, letting the tape measure drop to the floor where it coiled itself up. "Now then, Mr. Potter, try this one¡ªmaple wood, phoenix feather core, seven inches, quite springy. Give it a go."

    Harry took the wand and barely gave it a wave before Mr. Ollivander snatched it back.

    "No, not this one. Try this¡ªebony wood, unicorn hair core, eight-and-a-half inches, very strong flexibility," he said, handing Harry another wand.

    Harry obediently took the wand, but before he could even wave it, Mr. Ollivander grabbed it from him.

    "No, no. Try this one instead," Mr. Ollivander muttered to himself. "Aspen wood, dragon heartstring core, eleven and three-quarter inches."

    This time, Harry didn¡¯t reach for the wand.

    "Mr. Potter? Please, give it a try," Mr. Ollivander prompted, thinking Harry had zoned out.

    "Are you sure this one is right for me?" Harry asked. "I feel like you¡¯ll just decide it doesn¡¯t suit me before I even try."

    "It does seem like you and this one don¡¯t quite match," Mr. Ollivander murmured, ignoring Harry¡¯s sarcastic tone. He dove back into his shelves, rummaging for a long while.

    "Aha!" he finally eximed, pulling out a box from the very bottom. He opened it carefully, almost reverently. "Beechwood, dragon heartstring core, eleven inches."

    Harry didn¡¯t take it right away. Instead, he looked at Mr. Ollivander.

    "Go on, try it," Mr. Ollivander said cheerfully, holding the wand out to him.

    Harry finally took the wand. The moment it touched his hand, he felt a warm surge flow through him. The wand¡¯s tip emitted a glowing light that burst into sparks, scattering like fireworks and even sshing onto the walls around them.

    "Ah, yes, yes, that¡¯s it!" Mr. Ollivander eximed, covering his mouth in delight. "Beechwood! I knew it would be beechwood¡ªyou see, a true match for a beechwood wand signifies a unique individual. If they are young, they possess wisdom beyond their years. If they are an adult, they are insightful and experienced."

    Harry¡¯s lips twitched downward into a faint frown as he muttered, "Not bad."

    He quickly pulled out some Galleons and, after confirming the price with Mr. Ollivander,id out seven Galleons on the counter to purchase the wand. Mr. Ollivander bowed deeply as he escorted Harry out of the shop.

    Outside the shop, Hagrid stood waiting with arge cake in his hands.

    Seeing Harry emerge, Hagrid walked up and handed the cake to him. "I know your birthday¡¯sing up, but we¡¯ll be parting ways soon. You¡¯re heading back to the Dursleys, so consider this an early celebration."

    Harry looked down at the cake. On it, the words "HAPPEE BIRTHDAE HARRY" were spelled out. Two of the three words were misspelled, but his name, at least, was correct.

    "Thanks, Hagrid," Harry said, giving him a wide smile. "I love it. If you don¡¯t mind, how about we share it back at the Leaky Cauldron before we part ways?"

    "Ah, Harry," Hagrid said, ruffling Harry¡¯s already messy hair with hisrge hand.

    Back at the Leaky Cauldron, they enjoyed the cake. Along with all the books and supplies Harry had purchased, Hagrid also gifted him a snowy owl for his birthday. Harry decided to name her Hedwig.

    Thankfully, keeping snowy owls as pets was legal in Ennd, so there was no need to worry about the authorities. However, the stares they received along the way were unavoidable.

    "Ah, I regret it now," Hagrid sighed. "I should¡¯ve called the Knight Bus."

    "The Knight Bus?" Harry asked, pretending not to know.

    He had nearly forgotten about the Knight Bus, which he had taken a few times during his school years.

    "The Knight Bus helps stranded witches and wizards. It can take you anywhere onnd," Hagrid exined. "Just take out your wand and stick it up in the air¡ª"

    Following Hagrid¡¯s instructions, Harry raised his wand into the air.

    "Bang!"

    A double-decker bus appeared almost instantly. At the same time, Harry noticed that the passersby, who had been gawking at their unusual group, suddenly stopped paying attention.

    Confundus Charm, Harry thought. It was likely embedded in the magic of the Knight Bus.

    "Hey, you two, are you getting on or not?" the conductor called from the bus door.

    Hagrid quickly grabbed their bags and led Harry aboard.

    "To Little Whinging, Number Four, Privet Drive," Hagrid told the conductor.

    As Hagrid dealt with the conductor, Harry couldn¡¯t help but smile to himself. The thought of Dudley, who got carsick easily, experiencing a ride on the Knight Bus was amusing. The look on his pudgy face would¡¯ve been priceless.

    <strong>------</strong>

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 Chapter 11: The start of school

    The pillow fight carried a yful element, so Dudley didn¡¯t call for help, simply letting Harry give him a good beating with the pillow.

    For some reason, after that night, Dudley became Harry¡¯s follower.

    In the month leading up to the start of school, Dudley treated Harry as if he were apletely different person.

    Only Harry knew the truth: part of it was that Dudley was somewhat afraid of his magic, but the bigger reason was Harry¡¯s promise to bring him some magical snacks the next time he returned home.

    Seeing Dudley¡¯s chubby figure, Harry thought it might be necessary to give him some weight-loss potions.

    The ¡ê750 Harry had obtained from the Dursleys was spent entirely on Muggle snacks, with a particr focus on Coca-C.

    Who knew how much he had longed for a sip of the fizzy drink during the Victorian era?

    Given the purchasing power of the pound, Harry took the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley once again and bought a suitcase with an Undetectable Extension Charm.

    He packed all the Muggle snacks into the suitcase and, seeing there was still space left, stuffed in his books and clothes as well.

    This suitcase cost him thirty Galleons.

    As the saying goes, you get what you pay for, and Harry was very satisfied with the suitcase.

    A month flew by, and soon it was time for school to begin.

    Since Dudley was also starting at Smeltings Academy, the Dursleys drove to London to drop him off.

    ¡°I¡¯ve always been curious¡ªwhere did you get wizard money?¡± Uncle Vernon suddenly asked as they drove.

    ¡°It¡¯s the inheritance my parents left me, stored in Gringotts,¡± Harry replied.

    The car screeched to a sudden halt, nearly causing Harry to hit the seat in front of him.

    Through the rearview mirror hanging in the car, Harry saw Uncle Vernon¡¯s face darken.

    Was he upset about not being paid for raising him? Harry wondered, then blurted out, ¡°I know I have money now. I can pay for all the years you¡¯ve looked after me¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just like your father, Potter!¡± Uncle Vernon turned his fat body around in his seat, ring at Harry. ¡°He was arrogant and conceited¡ª¡±

    ¡°My father wasn¡¯t conceited, and neither am I. If you don¡¯t mind, could you pull over?¡± Harry interrupted, defending his father.@@novelbin@@

    Uncle Vernon snorted coldly and pulled the car to the side of the road.

    Turning to Harry again, he yelled, ¡°Listen, boy! I don¡¯t care how much pure gold you have stored in that sted Gringotts! I love Petunia¡ªI love her more than anything! If it weren¡¯t for her, do you think I¡¯d have let a freak like you into my house?¡±

    ¡°You know about Gringotts?¡± Harry asked, raising an eyebrow, realizing Uncle Vernon had reacted so strongly because of its mention.

    Uncle Vernon¡¯s face turned purple again, his mustache trembling as he roared, ¡°Gringotts? Of course, I know Gringotts! When I met your father in a restaurant, Petunia told me he didn¡¯t have a job. I even considered offering him a position at mypany, despite hisck of recognized qualifications! I even thought of funding him, but your father¡ª¡±

    ¡°Vernon! Oh my, Vernon!¡± Aunt Petunia, seated in the front passenger seat, clutched her cor as if she couldn¡¯t catch her breath.

    ¡°Like father, like son! The station is here. You can get out!¡± Uncle Vernon fumed.

    Harry looked up and saw that they had indeed arrived at King¡¯s Cross Station.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Harry said with a smile to the Dursleys, then turned to Dudley. ¡°I¡¯ll be off now.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget your promise,¡± Dudley mouthed silently.

    Harry nodded, retrieved his suitcase from the trunk, extended its handle, and walked away.

    That was the grudge of the previous generation and had nothing to do with him. No need for mental gymnastics over it.

    ¡°Nine and three-quarters¡­¡± Harry muttered as he walked into the station, dragging his suitcase.

    Since it wasn¡¯t his first time entering the tform, Harry wasn¡¯t in a hurry. He leisurely strolled with his suitcase, calm and rxed, waiting until the red-haired family in front of him entered before stepping onto tform Nine and Three-Quarters himself.

    The smoke from the steam engine swirled above the crowd. Cats of various colors darted around people¡¯s feet, apanied by the cacophony of chatter and the asional hoot of owls, creating a symphony of back-to-school excitement.

    It was very wizardly and had a distinct magical atmosphere.

    Since it was close to departure time, the first fewpartments were already crowded with students. Some leaned out of the windows to chat with their families, others were ying games, and some quietly snacked on treats in their seats.

    Harry even spotted a chocte frog leaping out of an open window, much to the dismay of its owner.

    In one of the rearpartments, Harry found an empty space. After storing his suitcase, he encountered a pair of identical red-haired twins.

    ¡°You¡¯re¡­ Harry Potter?¡± the one on the left asked, his face lighting up with excitement.

    Before Harry could answer, a woman¡¯s voice called from outside.

    ¡°Fred, George, are you on the train?¡±

    ¡°Coming, Mum!¡± The twins hastily said goodbye to Harry and ran off.

    Harry leaned against the seat, gazing absentmindedly at the crowd outside.

    He could still hear the twins¡¯ mother scolding them: ¡°That poor boy isn¡¯t a zoo animal for you to gawk at!¡ªFred, George!¡±

    As her voice faded, Harry lost interest in eavesdropping, settling into afortable position on the seat.

    Meanwhile, the twins¡¯ mother continued to reprimand them on the tform.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want you asking him about his scar! Don¡¯t make him think of <em>that</em>on his first day! All the wizards celebrated the day he got that scar and defeated You-Know-Who, but for him, it was the day he lost his parents¡ªoh, the poor child¡­¡±

    ¡°Alright, don¡¯t get mad,¡± said one of the twins. ¡°We get it.¡±

    The whistle blew.

    ¡°Alright, children, time to say goodbye,¡± the woman said with a smile, kissing each child on the forehead. ¡°Get on the train, Ronny dear¡ªand you two, don¡¯t make me receive anotherint from a professor about your pranks!¡±

    Thest remark was directed at the twins.

    <strong>------</strong>

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 Chapter 16: Punishment

    The September nights in the Scottish Hignds were biting cold. As soon as Harry stepped off the train, a gust of chilly wind hit him square in the face, prating his bones.

    "So cold," Ron said through chattering teeth.

    "First-years, this way!" a familiar voice called out. "Come on over¡ªoh, Harry, I see you! How are you doing?"

    "It''s Hagrid," Harry told Ron, waving high above his head. "Hagrid, I''m over here!"

    Hagrid''s towering figure was unmistakable. He waved back warmly and called out to the children, "Any more first-years? Come along, I''ll take you all to the school."

    This wasn''t Harry''s first time down this path. It was muddy and slippery, full of thorns¡ªa trail said to have been walked by the founders of Hogwarts when they first established the school. It was meant to remind new students of the founders'' hardships in building such a legacy.

    A lesson in appreciating the past, so to speak.

    "Just around this bend, and you''ll see Hogwarts," Hagrid called out. "Ahead is theke¡ªwe''ll be taking boats across. Four to a boat, got it? You can figure out your groups now."

    Harry grabbed Ron''s arm. As he nced back, Hermione appeared beside them with a small, chubby boy clutching a toad in his arms.

    "Harry, Ron, this is Neville," Hermione introduced them. Then she turned to Neville, saying, "This is Harry¡ªhe''s the one who found your toad."

    "Thank you, Mr. Potter," Neville said shyly, his voice trembling with gratitude.

    "No problem. Just call me Harry," Harry replied warmly, his smile radiant.

    Neville felt as if Harry were a little sun, dispelling his fear and even the cold that seemed to cling to him.

    "Shall we? The four of us in a boat?" Ron suggested, slinging an arm around Harry¡¯s shoulders and addressing Hermione and Neville.

    "Sounds good," Hermione agreed, though she muttered under her breath, "I just hope we don''t get expelled..."

    "Rx, Hermione. We only used the Levitation Charm in Drama Studies. It¡¯s not like we cast..."

    Harry trailed off, realizing that mentioning the Killing Curse might not be the best idea.

    "Cast what?" Neville asked, puzzled.

    "Alohomora," Harry quickly said, changing the subject. "Come on, let''s keep up. We need to get on the boats."

    None of them seemed suspicious¡ªafter all, at their age, they couldn¡¯t possibly know what the Killing Curse was.

    The temperature on theke was even colder than when they¡¯d first stepped off the train, likely due to the damp air. The young witches and wizards huddled into their robes, trying to shield themselves from the biting chill.

    Only when their boats reached the shore did they feel even a hint of relief.

    Hagrid led them to the gates of the castle.

    "Wait here," he said. "It won¡¯t be long before¡ª"

    Before he could finish, the massive doors swung open, revealing a stern-looking witch dressed in emerald green robes.

    It was Professor McGonagall.

    "All the first-years are here, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said.

    McGonagall nodded. "I¡¯ll take them from here, Hagrid. I¡¯ll lead them into the castle."

    Hagrid waved at Harry before turning to leave.

    "First-years, follow me," McGonagall instructed.

    The new students followed her into the castle, eventually arriving in a small chamber.

    "Wee to Hogwarts," she began. "The feast is about to begin, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you must first be sorted into your respective houses. The sorting is an important ceremony because your house will be your home at Hogwarts. You¡¯ll attend sses, sleep in the dormitories, and spend your free time in themon rooms with your housemates.

    "The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenw, and Slytherin. Each house has a proud history and has produced outstanding witches and wizards. During your time at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will bring glory to your house."

    "In a few moments, the Sorting Ceremony will take ce in front of the entire school. I suggest you take this time to tidy yourselves up and look presentable."

    Her gaze lingered briefly on Neville¡¯s cloak before sweeping over Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

    "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, pleasee with me," she said. Then her eyesnded on Draco Malfoy. "And Mr. Malfoy as well."

    Hermione¡¯s knees buckled.

    "Oh no, Harry, oh no..." she whimpered tearfully. "We¡¯re going to be expelled..."

    Draco overheard Hermione''s sobs and let out a derisiveugh.

    Harry nced over and saw Draco silently mouthing the word <em>"Mudblood"</em>at Hermione.

    That brat really needs a lesson, Harry thought. But first, he needed to figure out how to handle this situation.

    "Hermione, don¡¯t worry," Ron tried tofort her. "Even if we get expelled, you¡¯ll still have me and Harry by your side."

    Hermione only cried harder at that.

    The four were soon led into a small room.

    Inside, four individuals were seated. Harry immediately recognized one of them¡ªDumbledore, whom he had seen on a Chocte Frog card. To Dumbledore''s left was a short man in formal attire with a bowtie, sitting next to a plump witch dressed simply, with a few green leaves adorning her robes.

    On Dumbledore''s right sat a wizard with greasy ck hair and a hooked nose.

    The hook-nosed man¡¯s eyes locked onto Harry, a sh of recognition followed by a cold, emotionless stare. Harry instinctively felt that this man didn¡¯t like him.

    Did I offend him somehow? Harry wondered.

    "The matter is quite clear," the man spoke first. "Mr. Potter cast a curse on a fellow student aboard the train, with Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley as his aplices¡ª"

    Hermione let out a loud, despairing sob.

    "Take it easy, Severus," Dumbledore interjected, his half-moon spectacles glinting as he looked at Harry with a smile. "Why don¡¯t we hear from Harry and his friends? It wouldn¡¯t be fair to judge based on one side of the story."

    <strong>-----</strong>@@novelbin@@

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 Chapter 19: Then Slytherin would gain a great wizard

    The old Sorting Hat¡¯s words made Harry¡¯s heart tighten.

    Uh-oh, was he discovered?

    ¡°Really?¡± Harry feigned calmness and asked, neither confirming nor denying anything.

    ¡°Yes, the Sorting Hat never makes mistakes,¡± the hat affirmed confidently. ¡°I remember you. Last time I sorted you, I even advised you to join Slytherin, but you insisted on Gryffindor.¡±

    If nothing else had happened, Harry honestly wouldn¡¯t have minded going to Slytherin.

    But when he was applying for a schrship, he had spent a moment alone with Phineas Nigellus ck.

    Afterward, he asked Deputy Headmistress Weasley which house Headmaster ck had been in.

    Upon hearing the answer, ¡°Slytherin,¡± Harry¡¯s determination had solidified.

    Even if I drop out, I won¡¯t go to Slytherin!

    ¡°So, this time, will you still advise me to join Slytherin?¡± Harry asked in return.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t think someone daring enough to use Polyjuice Potion to impersonate the Headmaster would be a Slytherin. Oh, heavens, you should¡¯ve seen Phineas¡¯ face¡ªit was priceless,¡± the Sorting Hat said with glee. ¡°You even made the Great Hall permanently disy Gryffindor¡¯s banners, though Phineas quickly revoked that order.¡±

    Suddenly, the hat seemed to realize something mid-sentence.

    ¡°Wow, time really is a magical thing. I never thought I¡¯d see you back at age eleven. But don¡¯t worry; the Sorting Hat keeps its secrets.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Harry was skeptical.

    ¡°Absolutely! Since my creation, I¡¯ve never revealed any student¡¯s secrets,¡± the hat vowed. ¡°Not even that troublesome one who gave Albus such headaches.¡±

    Harry was willing to trust the hat¡¯s professionalism. After all, if the hat leaked secrets, there wouldn¡¯t have been a Voldemort.

    ¡°So, which house will you rmend this time?¡± Harry asked in his mind.

    ¡°No one betrays their own house, do they?¡± The hat chuckled. ¡°Without a doubt, you belong in Gryffindor.¡±

    ¡°Then what are you waiting for? Announce it. I¡¯m ready,¡± Harry said impatiently. The attention from all around made him a bit ufortable.

    Though the Sorting Hatmunicated mentally, Harry still found it unsettling.

    ¡°This is heartbreaking, kiddo,¡± the hatined. ¡°Old friends should catch up, but you can¡¯t wait to get rid of me. It¡¯s truly disheartening.¡±

    ¡°You have a heart?¡± Harry asked in surprise.

    ¡°I think I¡¯ve changed my mind. You should go to Azkaban,¡± the hat replied with a hint of mock indignation.

    ¡°Oh, sorry, I didn¡¯t mean it that way,¡± Harry quickly apologized. He didn¡¯t want to be sent straight to Azkaban.

    Then he asked, ¡°By the way, when did this Headmaster join Hogwarts? Why don¡¯t I remember him?¡±

    ¡°The Headmaster?¡± The hat thought for a moment and then replied, ¡°If I recall correctly, he entered in your seventh year. Phineas said you were missing, so it makes sense you wouldn¡¯t know him. How does it feel to see a junior be Headmaster?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a bit surreal,¡± Harry admitted. ¡°But since I never met him as a kid, it doesn¡¯t feel too odd.¡±

    ¡°Ha! You should¡¯ve seen young Albus,¡± the hat said slyly.

    ¡°Oh? Which house was he in?¡± Harry asked.

    ¡°Without a doubt, Gryffindor,¡± the Sorting Hat said proudly.

    Harry nodded knowingly and spent a long time reminiscing with the Sorting Hat.@@novelbin@@

    Finally, the hat, seemingly content, said, ¡°Catching up with an old friend is delightful. As a token of appreciation, the hat has prepared a special sorting ceremony for you.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± Harry asked curiously.

    The hat didn¡¯t answer. Just as Harry thought it was preparing for a dramatic announcement, he felt something hard hit his head.

    He removed the hat and saw a hilt inside. Intrigued, he grasped the hilt and, with a ng, pulled out a magnificent silver sword.

    At the same time, the Sorting Hat shouted triumphantly, ¡°Without a doubt! Gryffindor!¡±

    The Great Hall fell silent. Then, after a moment, three of the four house tables erupted into thunderous apuse, excluding Slytherin.

    ¡°We got Potter! We got Potter!¡± the Weasley twins stood on their seats, waving their arms in excitement.

    Harry turned to the teacher¡¯s table. Hagrid pped enthusiastically, barely containing his excitement. Dumbledore nodded at him with a smile, offering his apuse. Meanwhile, the greasy-haired professor looked as though he couldn¡¯t stand him.

    Beside him, Professor McGonagall folded her hands, clearly pleased that Harry had been sorted into Gryffindor.

    ¡°Professor, what about this?¡± Harry asked, holding the Sorting Hat in one hand and the Gryffindor sword in the other.

    ¡°I¡¯ll handle it, Mr. Potter,¡± McGonagall said as she took the items from him and approached Dumbledore to hand him the sword.

    ¡°I never expected you¡¯d arrange such a sorting ritual, Albus,¡± she whispered.

    Dumbledore looked momentarily confused. ¡°Ah?¡±

    Then he understood what she meant and replied just as softly, ¡°No, Minerva, you¡¯ll seeter. The Headmaster has no authority to interfere with sorting, much lessmand the hat.¡±

    McGonagall gave him a doubtful look but chose to believe him.

    As Harry walked to the Gryffindor table, the Gryffindors stood up to offer their most heartfelt congrattions.

    He sat next to Hermione on his left. On his right was a boy wearing sses who looked schrly.

    ¡°Percy. Percy Weasley,¡± the boy introduced himself, extending a hand.

    Harry shook it, recognizing him as Ron¡¯s prefect brother.

    ¡°You¡¯re Ron brother, right?¡± Harry asked politely, recalling Ron¡¯s mention of him.

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Percy said proudly.

    Just then, McGonagall called out Ron¡¯s name.

    ¡°That¡¯s my youngest brother,¡± Percy whispered to Harry.

    ¡°Gryffindor!¡± the Sorting Hat dered.

    Ron slumped into the seat Harry and Hermione had saved for him.

    ¡°Well done, Ron, well done!¡± Percy said in an exaggerated tone.

    ¡°I was so scared I¡¯d end up in Slytherin,¡± Ron admitted, still shaking off the nerves.

    Harry grinned and said, ¡°Then Slytherin would¡¯ve gained an exceptional wizard.¡±

    ¡°Ugh, shut it, Harry. You sound like my mum,¡± Ron retorted, rolling his eyes.

    ----

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 Chapter 22: Heart-wrenching!

    Peeves wasn¡¯t a good spirit¡ªHarry had known that for quite some time. This ghost delighted in mischief, especially in going against others.

    ¡°Familiar face? You have no acquaintances here!¡± Percy retorted angrily. ¡°They¡¯re just first-years¡ª¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Peeves floated leisurely over to Harry, his eyes glinting with mischief. ¡°Potter, not going to greet an old friend?¡±

    ¡°Peeves!¡± Percy barked in warning. ¡°Harry is just a first-year student. Don¡¯t bother him!¡±

    ¡°A first-year?¡± Peeves cackled as if Percy had told the funniest joke. Holding his stomach, he doubled over in midair withughter. ¡°Oh, I could never forget that face¡ªPotter¡­¡±

    ¡°You must¡¯ve known my father, James,¡± Harry said casually, pulling out his wand.

    ¡°You don¡¯t think spells will work on Peeves, do you?¡± Percy asked in surprise. ¡°Honestly, people have been trying to find a spell to deal with Peeves for years, but as you can see¡ªso far, no sess.¡±

    To Percy¡¯s astonishment, Peeves screamed and bolted the moment Harry pointed his wand at him.

    ¡°Maybe it does work,¡± Harry shrugged.

    Percy opened his mouth, suddenly finding the atmosphere a bit awkward.

    ¡°Maybe he had other things to do,¡± Percy offered weakly. ¡°Anyway, if you encounter Peeves again, don¡¯t provoke him. Honestly, you should be on your guard around him.¡±

    He led the group forward. ¡°Don¡¯t try Harry¡¯s method. I rmend invoking the Bloody Baron¡¯s name to scare him off. The Bloody Baron is the only one who can keep him in line; Peeves doesn¡¯t even listen to us prefects. Oh¡ªhere we are.¡±

    At the end of the corridor hung a portrait of a plump woman dressed in pink.

    ¡°Password?¡± she asked in a smooth voice.

    ¡°Dragon dung,¡± Percy replied.

    The portrait swung forward to reveal a circr hole in the wall.

    One by one, they crawled through. Neville struggled a bit, requiring some help to squeeze through.

    On the other side of the hole, they found themselves in the Gryffindormon room. It was a cozy circr room filled with plush armchairs. Gold and red decor adorned the walls, showcasing Gryffindor¡¯s signature colors.

    Percy began assigning rooms. ¡°Those whose names I call will be sharing a room: Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, and Seamus Finnigan.¡±

    The four of them exchanged nces but didn¡¯t raise any objections.

    After dividing the boys'' and girls¡¯ dormitories, Percy added a stern reminder: ¡°School rules strictly forbid boys from entering the girls¡¯ dormitory.¡±

    ¡°What about girls in the boys¡¯ dormitory?¡± Seamus called out. ¡°No rule about that?¡±

    ¡°Unfortunately, no,¡± Percy admitted reluctantly.

    Fred and George chimed in from the back, ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious? It¡¯s at your own risk!¡±@@novelbin@@

    Percy responded by smacking them with a book, sending the twinsughing and scampering away from themon room.

    ¡°Let¡¯s head upstairs,¡± Neville suggested, still clutching his toad.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you afraid you¡¯ll overheat it?¡± Seamus teased. ¡°You¡¯ve been holding that thing all day.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m more afraid of losing him,¡± Neville admitted. ¡°I searched for him all over the train earlier. Oh¡ª¡±

    In their dormitory, Neville safely tucked his toad away, while Seamus began sharing his story.

    ¡°I¡¯m half-and-half,¡± Seamus said, swinging one leg over the bed. ¡°Dad¡¯s a Muggle, and Mum only told him she was a witch after they got married¡ªscared the life out of him.¡±

    The othersughed. Harry rubbed his eyes. ¡°Muggles not believing in magic isn¡¯t surprising. My uncle, for example, ispletely against it. Even if I performed magic in front of him, he¡¯d refuse to ept it.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s lying to himself,¡± Seamus remarked, crossing his arms. ¡°What about you, Neville?¡±

    ¡°I was raised by my gran,¡± Neville said, looking a bit downcast. ¡°She¡¯s a witch, and my parents were both wizards. But they¡¯re¡­ sick. They¡¯ve been in St. Mungo¡¯s as long as I can remember.¡±

    ¡°My family thought I was a Squib for years,¡± Neville added. ¡°My great-uncle Algie was always trying to force me to show signs of magic¡ªonce, he even pushed me off the ck Lake dock. Nearly drowned me, and nothing happened.¡±

    ¡°Then, when I was eight, he dangled me out a window by my ankle. He let go to grab some cake my aunt offered, and I bounced¡ªflew across the garden andnded on the road. Everyone was overjoyed. Aunt Enid even cried from happiness.¡±

    ¡°When my Hogwarts letter arrived, you should¡¯ve seen their faces! They thought I didn¡¯t have enough magic to get in. Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me this toad.¡±

    Neville spilled his tales like beans from a jar, and after hearing them, Harry began to suspect that maybe the wizarding world hadn¡¯te to rescue him sooner because of stories like Neville¡¯s.

    Look at Neville¡ªhis own great-uncle had tossed him into ake and dropped him from a window!

    ¡°What illness do your parents have?¡± Seamus asked gently.

    ¡°They were tortured with the Cruciatus Curse,¡± Neville said quietly. ¡°They never woke up.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, Neville,¡± Seamus said, clearly not expecting to stumble upon such a sad truth.

    The Cruciatus Curse.

    Harry had learned it before, even used it with Sebastian. On Ominis too.

    The memory of using such a curse wasn¡¯t pleasant¡ªit tortured not just the victim but the caster¡¯s soul as well.

    ¡°Ah, I just remembered!¡± Ron suddenly eximed, then stopped himself, realizing naming Neville¡¯s parents would only cause more pain. He quickly changed the topic, saying to Harry, ¡°Harry, I think you¡¯ve got some snacks in your bag¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh, right,¡± Harry said, d for the distraction. He pulled his suitcase out from under his bed. ¡°I brought some Muggle snacks. Want to try them?¡±

    He needed the diversion just as much as Ron did¡ªmemories of the Cruciatus Curse weren¡¯t ones he enjoyed revisiting.

    <strong>-----</strong>

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 Chapter 26: Potions

    Harry was different from the others. While everyone else was focused on learning how to master the Leg-Locker Curse, his attention was fixed on the back of Professor Quirrell''s head.

    What could be the reason for stuffing so much garlic in there to mask something? Could it be that Quirrell had some nasty sores on the back of his head? Or perhaps he was cursed?

    It wasn¡¯t that Harry wanted to help Quirrell solve his problem¡ªhe was just purely curious.

    When he returned to the Gryffindormon room, everyone was enthusiastically discussing Professor Quirrell.

    "I bet there''s garlic stuffed under that turban too," Fred and George chimed in. "That way, no matter where he goes, he''s protected against vampires."

    "Then why don¡¯t you ask him yourselves?" Ron, holding a bottle of Coca-C, suggested. "Or better yet, just yank off that turban. You two love pulling pranks, don¡¯t you?"

    The twins exchanged a nce before replying in unison, "Oh, dear Ronniekins, we¡¯d rather not get expelled from school."

    "Or worse," Fred added.

    "Mom¡¯s Howler," George finished.

    The twins high-fived, and Ron muttered under his breath, "They really don¡¯t know which is worse."

    Meanwhile, Fred and George discovered Harry¡¯s little biting cabbage. These two copycats often visited his dormitory, showing an unusual interest in the peculiar vegetable.

    Fred even tried poking it once but was quick enough to avoid getting bitten.

    After a few days of sses at Hogwarts, Harry noticed something shocking: his ssmates¡¯ magical abilities were surprisingly poor. Some were so bad they¡¯d even developed their own unique ir for failure.

    The Muggle-born students were understandable; after all, nobody told them they were wizards until they received their Hogwarts letter, much less taught them any magic.

    But the so-called pureblood families? Their kids weren¡¯t much better.

    Take Malfoy¡¯s two goons, Crabbe and Goyle, for example. Rumor had it they couldn¡¯t even manage a basic Lumos spell. Even Ron, with his hand-me-down wand, managed to light it on his second try.

    Seriously, how had the wizarding world declined to this extent?

    Harry felt a pang of frustration. How could they possibly rebuild the magical world with such a crowd?

    A thought began to form in his mind¡ªan immature idea, but an idea nheless. <em>Should I restart the dueling club?</em>

    In his days at Hogwarts, he hadn¡¯t heard of any such organization.

    On Friday morning, Harry woke up early and joined his ssmates for breakfast in the Great Hall. Not seeing Hedwig felt strange; usually, by this time, she would be perched beside him, nibbling at his toast or dozing on his shoulder before returning to the Owlery once sses began.

    It wasn¡¯t long before she returned, carrying a note. The handwriting was messy and scrawled¡ªit was from Hagrid.

    "Dear Harry,

    I know you don¡¯t have sses Friday afternoon. Could youe by for tea around three? I¡¯d love to hear how your first week went. Please send your reply with Hedwig.

    ¡ªHagrid"

    Harry quickly borrowed Ron¡¯s quill, scribbled, "Sure, I¡¯d love to. See you soon," on the back, and sent Hedwig off.

    Potions ss with the Slytherins was an exercise in tension. The two houses sat divided by an aisle down the middle of the ssroom.

    Draco seemed to have forgotten the floating charm incident with Harry and was busy taunting Ron and Hermione, attempting to provoke a reaction.

    But Ron ignored him, and Hermione wasn¡¯t fazed either. Frustrated, Draco turned his attention to Neville.

    Before he could say much, the ssroom door mmed open, and Snape swept in, his ck robes billowing behind him.

    "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper, yet every word was clear.

    Like Professor McGonagall, Snapemanded the ssroom effortlessly.

    "Since there¡¯s no silly wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don¡¯t expect you to truly appreciate the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, or the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper to death¡ªbut only if you aren¡¯t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

    The room was silent. Hermione leaned so far forward she was almost off her chair, eager to prove she wasn¡¯t a dunderhead.@@novelbin@@

    Snape¡¯s gaze swept the room, clearly satisfied with their reactions.

    "Mr. Potter," he said, fixing his dark eyes on Harry. "Our new celebrity."

    Harry looked up, unsure why he was being singled out.

    "Tell me, Mr. Potter," Snape drawled, his words as greasy as his hair. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

    Harry froze.

    He¡¯d once studied Victorian botany with Miss Garrick, a knowledgeable herbalist, during a peculiar time-travel mishap. From her, he¡¯d learned that in Victorian flowernguage, <em>asphodel</em>(not narcissus) symbolized "my regrets follow you to the grave," while <em>wormwood</em>represented "absence" and "bitter sorrow."

    Combining these with Snape¡¯s Slytherin demeanor, Harry understood: this was about his parents. Snape was expressing remorse and grief in his twisted, indirect way.

    What a peculiar man, Harry thought. If he had been friends with my parents, why not just say so?

    Then again... he wouldn¡¯t be a Slytherin if he could say it outright.

    Meeting Snape¡¯s piercing ck eyes with his emerald ones, Harry¡¯s voice was calm as he replied, "It¡¯s okay, Professor."

    <strong>----</strong>

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 Chapter 28: Harry in the Newspaper

    Drenched by the scalding potion and subjected to Snape''s venomous remarks, Neville continued trembling all the way to lunch.

    "Don''t let it get to you, mate," Ron said, attempting to console Neville. "No one can be good at everything, right?"

    "You''re right, Weasley," came Malfoy''s sharp, mocking tone from the Slytherin table. "Perhaps this little lump should think more with his brain instead of his fat backside."

    "Shut it, Malfoy," Ron snapped, pulling Neville along and away from the confrontation.

    Before Malfoy could fire back, Slytherin Prefect Gemma Farley intervened. "Mr. Malfoy?" she called.

    "Miss Farley," Malfoy responded, clearly aware of her authority.

    "Close your mouth," Gemma ordered curtly.

    She wasn¡¯t particrly concerned for Neville, but rather for Slytherin''s house points, which she didn¡¯t want docked due to Malfoy¡¯s careless taunts. Under her warning, Malfoy fell silent but kept casting furtive nces at Ron and Neville''s retreating backs.

    That afternoon, Harry rounded up his dormmates and Hermione to visit Hagrid¡¯s hut. Seeing the group of young Gryffindors, Hagrid''s face lit up with joy.

    "Come in,e in," he said warmly. Noticing Neville trembling beside Fang, his massive boarhound, Hagrid quickly added, "Hold on, let me tie up Fang¡ªhe gets a bit <em>too</em>friendly."

    Once the dog was secured, Hagrid ushered them inside. Harry had brought an assortment of Muggle snacks, including a fewrge bottles of soda.

    "Ah, Coca-C," Hagrid eximed, holding up a massive 2.5-liter bottle as though it were a vial. "I¡¯ll admit, Muggles do get some things right."

    After Harry introduced everyone¡ªRon, Seamus, Neville, and Hermione¡ªHagrid beamed at the familiar surname. "Another Weasley, eh? I know your brothers Fred and George. Can''t tell them apart, mind, but I''ve spent a good part of my life chasing those two troublemakers out of the Forbidden Forest."

    Hagrid then offered them a tter of what he proudly called "rock cakes." Their surfaces looked hard enough to withstand a hammer.

    Harry eyed the "cakes" warily. Tentatively, he picked one up and tried breaking it in half. It didn¡¯t budge. Instead, he dunked it in water, nning to soften it before eating. The others stared at him in stunned silence.

    Neville, meanwhile, was still struggling to take a bite of the one in his hands. Ignoring their expressions, Harry conjured a fork with his wand and began eating the softened cake.

    To his surprise, the vor was delightful¡ªa strong, creamy sweetness akin to souffl¨¦. "It''s good!" he dered. "Sorry, Hagrid, my teeth have been bothering metely, so I had to soak it first."

    As they chatted, Hagrid began offering his thoughts on the professors. "Professor Sprout makes a fine cake, I tell ya. And McGonagall¡ªstrict, sure, but she''s as kind as theye. Truth be told, all Hogwarts professors are good people."

    Ron interjected immediately, "Except Snape."

    "Absolutely," Neville chimed in, with Seamus nodding fervently.

    "Now, now," Hagrid said, shaking his head. "You lot don''t know him like I do. He''s... well, he''s..." Hagrid faltered, unable to find the right words.

    "He¡¯s always picking on Harry!" Ron blurted. "You should see the way he looks at him, like he wants to eat him alive."

    "No," Hermione countered thoughtfully. "It''s more...plicated. I can''t quite put my finger on it."

    "It <em>is</em></divplicated," Hagrid agreed cryptically, giving them a knowing smile.

    "Why?" Harry pressed. "You¡¯ve known my parents and been here forever. Snape must have known them too¡ªwere they friends?"

    At Harry''s words, Hagrid visibly froze, inhaling sharply. "Merlin''s baggiest bloomers... What made yeh think <em>that</em>?"

    "Am I wrong?" Harry asked, puzzled by Hagrid''s reaction.

    "Not wrong, exactly," Hagrid hedged. "Let''s just say, your parents and Professor Snape have... quite the history."

    "That exins a lot," Harry murmured, remembering Snape''s earlier question.

    "What do you mean?" Ron asked, perplexed. "How does that connect to the way he treats you? He''s just out to get you, mate."

    Harry recounted Snape''s cryptic question about the Victoriannguage of flowers. His friends listened, expressions shifting between confusion and shock. Ron looked particrly gobsmacked. "But why not just say it outright?" Hermione mused. "It feels... like there''s more to this."

    "That''s Snape for you," Hagrid said with a chuckle, deftly steering the conversation elsewhere. "By the way, Ron, how''s your brother Charlie doing? I always liked thatd¡ªhe¡¯s got a real way with magical creatures."

    Ron took the bait,unching into stories about Charlie''s dragon-rearing adventures in Romania.

    Meanwhile, Harry¡¯s attention was drawn to a newspaper on Hagrid''s table. A section had been partially cut out but notpletely removed. He noticed two articles: one about an attempted robbery at Gringotts, and another that caught his eye¡ªa historical tidbit.

    It was a "this day in history" piecememorating the suppression of a goblin rebellion a century ago.

    Hermione, too, noticed the paper and gasped. "Harry! Your name is in here!"

    <strong>---</strong>

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 Chapter 31: Order of the Phoenix

    Weekends at Hogwarts were much like holidays at Muggle schools.

    So, Harry decided to set out during thetter half of the night, when all was quiet. This way, he could avoid his dormmates and enjoy azy lie-in the next morning.

    The Map Chamber was located deep beneath the Hogwarts castle, a secret room tightly protected by ancient magic.

    Had it not been for Harry and Veratia helping Richard Jackdaw fulfill his final wish, they might never have discovered this ce.

    This unique location became a spot for Harry and Veratia to exchange insights on ancient magic¡ªthough Professor Rackham¡¯s portrait always had plenty to say about it.

    In Professor Rackham¡¯s words: ¡°This sacred chamber reeks of the stench of juveniles!¡±

    As Harry invisibly cloaked himself with a Disillusionment Charm, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a bit awkward.

    Looking down, he realized his body was hidden, but his feet were still visible.

    sted age, he thought bitterly. Being young meant weaker magical reserves, insufficient to fully power certain spells.

    For example, Apparition, a spell requiring a license, had a minimum age of seventeen due to the same reason.

    Throughout history, countless wizards had mishaps while practicing Apparition. Some left behind bits of themselves.

    Those luckier lost hair or eyebrows; the less fortunate might leave an arm or leg¡ªor even end up with their upper and lower halves separated.

    Fortunately, Harry was using the Disillusionment Charm, so even with insufficient magic, there was no risk of physical dismemberment.

    And at thiste hour, he didn¡¯t worry about being discovered.

    Thus, an eerie sight unfolded¡ªa pair of disembodied feet pattered quietly down the hall. If any wandering student happened upon this, they¡¯d likely faint in terror.

    Harry wasn¡¯t directionally challenged. He¡¯d visited the Map Chamber countless times; returning there felt likeing home.

    Descending the spiral staircase to the castle¡¯s lowest level, Harry eagerly looked up, only to be stunned.

    Instead of the familiar door, a solid wall greeted him.

    ¡°Damn it!¡± Harry muttered under his breath. Then he remembered¡ªthe chamber had been reinforced with ancient magic.

    Only someone capable of wielding ancient magic could see the door, let alone enter.

    And since the age of awakening ancient magic was fifteen, Harry realized he¡¯d have to wait until fifth year to ess the chamber.

    Harry had once asked Veratia why she insisted on reinforcing the chamber with ancient magic.

    ¡°To prevent people like Ranrok from coveting ancient magic,¡± Veratia had said.

    But Harry always suspected that wasn¡¯t her true reason¡ªthough he had no evidence.

    Circling the wall for a while, he found no way to break through and had to give up.

    Aside from the Map Chamber, there were two other potential ces to investigate:

    One was the cavern beneath the Defense Against the Dark Arts ssroom; the other, the Room of Requirement on the 7th floor.

    The cavern was something Sebastian had told him about¡ªthough Ominis had been furious when he learned.

    Ultimately, however, Ominis had begrudgingly approved of Harry¡¯s involvement.

    As for the Room of Requirement, Veratia had discovered it after transferring to Hogwarts in their fifth year.

    Harry wasn¡¯t keen on wandering into the cavern at this hour; it always reminded him of a prison.

    Still, thinking about it, he wondered if the spot where they practiced magic together back then might also be useful.

    For now, I¡¯ll check the Room of Requirement, Harry decided. I can save the cavern for another time.

    Resolving this, Harry climbed to the 7th floor and stopped before the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls.

    ¡°I need a meeting ce for the Order of the Phoenix,¡± he thought, pacing three times back and forth.

    A faint rumble sounded from the wall, and a grand door appeared before him.

    ¡°Got it!¡± Harry eximed happily, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

    Since Harry¡¯s thoughts were focused on the old meeting room, everything was just as he remembered it. The four walls were adorned with banners representing each house, from Gryffindor to Slytherin.@@novelbin@@

    In the era of Phineas Nigellus ck as headmaster, house unity was something unimaginable today.

    House bias? Nonexistent. If you disliked Headmaster ck, you were already allies!

    Even Slytherin students were no exception.

    But though the meeting room remained the same, its upants were long gone.

    The friends who had onceughed together here were now scattered and untraceable.

    ¡°Deeco?¡± Harry called for the house-elf, but there was no response.

    Deeco had been assigned as Harry¡¯s caretaker by Professor Weasley. During Harry¡¯s time at Hogwarts, Deeco managed his daily life.

    After Veratia transferred schools, Deeco had to serve them both.

    Receiving no reply, Harry undid the ill-fitting Disillusionment Charm and sat in his usual spot¡ªjust like in those old gatherings.

    ¡°I think our group needs a name,¡± Veratia had said back then, gently polishing the beak of the phoenix Fiona. Her tone was soft. ¡°Harry, you¡¯re the glue that binds us. It¡¯s only right you decide the name.¡±

    Harry, who always struggled with naming things, had spotted the phoenix and gotten an idea.

    ¡°How about The Order of the Phoenix?¡± Harry suggested. ¡°We do have a phoenix, after all.¡±

    ¡°What azy name, Potter,¡± Cassandra¡¯s gray eyes were filled with disdain. ¡°The Order of the Phoenix? I could gag...¡±

    ¡°I think it¡¯s pretty good, right?¡± Sebastianughed, draping an arm around Ominis¡¯ shoulders, clearly approving of Harry¡¯s suggestion.

    Ominis, with his head bowed, gave a quiet hum of agreement¡ªnot to Harry, but as a subtle protest against Sebastian¡¯sck of boundaries.

    ¡°Five to one,¡± said Hufflepuff¡¯s Poppy Sweeting, raising her hand.

    ¡°Seven to one,¡± added Gareth and Ravenw¡¯s Amit Thakkar, raising theirs.

    Cassandra, however, drawled, ¡°Voting? How childish. I never said I disagreed with Potter¡¯s silly name¡ªunanimous approval.¡±

    ¡°Guys, I...¡± Harry looked up but found the long table empty.

    ¡°I really miss you all,¡± he said softly.

    <strong>---</strong>

    <strong>you can read more chapter on mypatreon</strong>

 Chapter 34: The Philosopherâ€™s Stone

    That afternoon, the news of Harry being specially recruited onto his house Quidditch team spread like wildfire throughout the school.

    Even the ghosts floating through the halls were gossiping about it, let alone the students.

    ¡°A Seeker?¡± Ron eximed, so astonished he forgot to shove a pie into his mouth. ¡°But first-years never¡ª You must be the youngest yer on a house team in years!¡±

    ¡°A century, actually,¡± Harry replied with a grin. ¡°That¡¯s what Wood told me.¡±

    In his six years at his previous school, Harry hadn¡¯t even been allowed to watch an in-school Quidditch match, let alone participate.

    Apparently, a few years ago, a student had fallen off a broom, giving Headmaster ck the perfect excuse to ban all Quidditch games on campus.

    The students cursed him behind his back, and even the ghostsposed a song to sarcastically "celebrate" Headmaster ck¡¯s so-called ¡°great achievements.¡±

    Ron nodded sagely. After all, catching the ball was no small feat¡ªit also involved dragging a heavy Malfoy along with it.@@novelbin@@

    ¡°I start training next week,¡± Harry said, raising his ss of pumpkin juice to clink with Ron¡¯s. ¡°By the way, after I left, did Malfoy say anything?¡±

    ¡°Malfoy called Hermione a Mudblood, but she cleaned his mouth out with <em>Scourgify,</em>just like you did,¡± Ron said, grinning widely.

    At that moment, Fred and George Weasley strode into the dining hall. Spotting Harry, they hurried over.

    ¡°Well done, Harry,¡± George said in a low voice. ¡°Wood told us. We¡¯re on the house team too¡ªas Beaters. Our job is to make sure you don¡¯t get hit too badly.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you this,¡± Fred said confidently. ¡°We¡¯re taking the Quidditch Cup this year. Ever since Charlie left, we haven¡¯t won. But this year, our team¡¯s going to shine. You¡¯ll be brilliant, Harry. When Wood told us, he was so excited he could barely speak. And you know how strict he is about Quidditch¡ªlike a miniature Professor McGonagall. We trust his judgment.¡±

    ¡°But we¡¯ve got to run. Lee Jordan thinks he¡¯s found a new secret passage out of the school.¡±

    ¡°I bet it¡¯s the one behind Gregory the Smarmy¡¯s statue,¡± George added. ¡°We found that one in our first week here¡ªsee you!¡±

    ¡°Honestly,¡± Harry said to Ron as the twins left, ¡°I¡¯ve known them for so long, but I still can¡¯t tell which one is Fred and which one is George.¡±

    ¡°Honestly? Me neither,¡± Ron admitted, spreading his hands.

    Hermione sat down just then, carrying a thick, ancient book nearly asrge as her torso.

    ¡°What on earth is that?¡± Ron asked, staring in disbelief.

    ¡°Something to pass the time after meals,¡± Hermione said, mming the book onto the table.

    ¡°You call that ¡®passing the time¡¯?¡± Ron asked dryly.

    Hermione shot him a severe look, and Ron wisely closed his mouth.

    ¡°Honestly,¡± Ron muttered, ncing toward Draco Malfoy, who was chatting andughing with Crabbe and Goyle. ¡°Didn¡¯t the flying lesson teach him enough? I think Malfoy needs another good scare.¡±

    Hearing Malfoy¡¯s name soured Harry¡¯s mood instantly.

    If Cassandra knew her descendant was such a git, she¡¯d probably cast an Unforgivable Curse on him right then and there.

    The thought darkened Harry¡¯s mood further as he brooded over the still-inessible Map Chamber.

    He was certain it held important clues, but how could he ess it? At only eleven years old, was he really expected to wait four more years, until he turned fifteen and awakened his ancient magic?

    ¡°Look at this,¡± Ron said, picking up a nearby newspaper. ¡°The <em>Daily Prophet</em>is still printing statements from the Gringotts goblins. They keep insisting Gringotts is the safest ce.¡±

    Gringotts?

    Harry¡¯s thoughts flew to his trip with Hagrid to retrieve that tiny bundle¡ªan object that radiated ancient magic.

    His instincts told him that with that item, the age limit on ancient magic could be bypassed.

    But the dilemma remained: it was Dumbledore¡¯s possession, clearly valuable. How could he persuade the headmaster to lend it to him?

    -----

    The next morning, as Harry and Ron entered the Great Hall and sat down, the mail owls swooped in.

    Harry noticed four or five owls carrying a long, thin package. They circled briefly beforending in front of him.

    ¡°Oh no, my chicken leg!¡± Ron eximed in dismay as the package knocked his food to the ground.

    But his attention quickly shifted to the intriguing package.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±

    ¡°Mate, open it for me while I read this letter,¡± Harry said.

    Unfolding the letter, Harry read:

    ¡°Do not open the package on the table. Inside is your new broomstick¡ªa Nimbus 2000. I don¡¯t want others knowing you¡¯ve got it, lest they all start demanding one.

    Oliver Wood will meet you at the Quidditch pitch at 7 p.m. tonight for your first training session.

    ¡ªProfessor Minerva McGonagall.¡±

    Harry lowered the letter, intending to stop Ron, but it was toote.

    Ron had already unwrapped the package, revealing a brand-new Nimbus 2000.

    ¡°Whoa, mate!¡± Ron gasped in amazement. ¡°Did you buy this?¡±

    Beside them, Wood stared, his face filled with envy.

    Of course, Wood guessed it was a gift from Professor McGonagall, but he couldn¡¯t say much. Harry was a Seeker, after all¡ªa position demanding speed and top-notch broomstick performance. Plus, Harry¡¯s family didn¡¯t seem particrly well-off.

    Still, Wood couldn¡¯t help but feel envious. Harry was only in his first year, meaning he¡¯d get to use the Nimbus 2000 for at least seven years!

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget to meet me for training tonight,¡± Wood said,posing himself. ¡°McGonagall told me to start your emergency training right away so we can crush Slytherin in the next match. She must¡¯ve told you aboutst year¡ªafter we lost badly to Slytherin, she avoided Professor Snape for weeks.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be there,¡± Harry promised earnestly.

    Looking back on his years at his previous school, what he had yearned for most was the chance to y Quidditch, banned under Headmaster ck¡¯s rule.

    <em>ck, you ruin everything!</em>

    <strong>---</strong>

    <strong>you can read more chapter on mypatreon</strong>

 Chapter 37: Hope Fine

    Upon hearing Ron¡¯s words, Hermione didn¡¯t hesitate for even a moment. She spun around and darted after him, weaving her way through the tide of retreating students.

    The prefects were too busy maintaining order within their Houses to notice the two first-years slipping away, heading directly toward danger.

    ¡°Oh no, I hope Harry¡¯s okay,¡± Hermione said, her voice trembling with worry.

    ¡°How could he not be?¡± Ron replied, trying to sound confident, though his tone betrayed a hint of doubt. ¡°He¡¯s the Boy Who Lived! Even You-Know-Who couldn¡¯t take him down¡ªwhat¡¯s a trollpared to that?¡±

    Despite his bravado, Ron couldn¡¯t shake a nagging sense of unease. Trolls were legendary for their toughness. With their granite-like skin and resistance to most spells, they were formidable even for experienced wizards. For a first-year to stand a chance against one was¡­ well, absurd.

    <em>Merlin¡¯s socks,</em> Ron thought desperately, <em>please let Harry be alright! I¡¯ll give up chicken legs for a whole year if it means he¡¯s safe!</em>

    Meanwhile, the subject of their concern¡ªHarry¡ªwas in the middle of fastening his trousers.

    His original n had been simple: use the chaos of the Halloween feast as a cover to sneak into the dungeon beneath the Defense Against the Dark Arts ssroom. The noise and bustle made it easy to slip away unnoticed. And his excuse was perfectly usible¡ªhe genuinely did need the bathroom.

    As Harry adjusted his robes, however, an unusual sound caught his attention. Heavy <em>thud, thud, thud</em> footsteps echoed ominously from the corridor outside, apanied by a stench so vile it made his nose wrinkle instinctively.

    The source of the disturbance became evident almost immediately.

    <em>No doubt about it¡ªa troll.</em>

    Cautiously, Harry pushed open the stall door and peeked out, just in time to lock eyes with the intruder.

    Standing in the doorway was a towering behemoth, easily twelve feet tall. Its mottled gray skin looked as tough as rock, its tiny head perched incongruously atop a hulking frame. In one massive hand, it dragged a wooden club that was thicker and taller than Harry himself.@@novelbin@@

    The troll paused, its pea-sized brain struggling toprehend the sight of a lone human before it. Realizing its obvious size advantage, it let out a guttural roar meant to intimidate.

    Harry¡¯s response was far from what the troll had expected. Instead of fleeing, Harry grimaced.

    ¡°Ugh, its breath stinks,¡± he muttered under his breath, recoiling slightly.

    The troll, despite its dim intelligence, seemed to pick up on Harry¡¯s expression of disdain. Enraged, it roared again, eyes zing with fury. But even as it prepared to strike, it hesitated. There was something unsettling about the boy standing before it, seemingly unafraid.

    Harry¡¯sck of fear wasn¡¯t born of courage. He was angry. Deeply, profoundly angry. The events of the previous day¡ªthe loss of someone dear¡ªhad left him seething. All he¡¯d wanted was to distract himself with a quiet investigation. Now, this lumbering oaf had ruined everything. Worse, themotion was bound to draw the professors, dashing his hopes of sneaking away unnoticed.

    The troll raised its enormous club, its lips curling in a grotesque semnce of a grin.

    But Harry mirrored that grin, his emerald eyes shing with something darker.

    <em>Perfect,</em> he thought grimly. <em>I needed to blow off some steam. And herees a punching bag, delivered right to me.</em>

    Sensing danger, the troll hesitated. But before it could act, Harry¡¯s wand was already raised.

    ¡°<em>Expelliarmus!</em>¡±

    A jet of red light struck the troll¡¯s arm, sending its massive club flying. The weapon didn¡¯t hit the ground, though¡ªHarry¡¯s wand flicked expertly, suspending the club mid-air.

    ¡°Not so tough without your stick, are you?¡± Harry taunted.

    As the troll bellowed in rage, Harry gagged, unable to ignore the stench that filled the room. Muttering a transfiguration spell, he turned a broken stall door into heavy iron shackles that mped tightly around the troll¡¯s ankles.

    ¡°Hey, big guy!¡± Harry called out mockingly, drawing the troll¡¯s gaze. As it turned toward him, Harry waved his wand, sending the floating club crashing into the troll¡¯s shoulder with a deafening <em>wham.</em>

    The creature howled in pain, staggering as Harry continued the assault. Each blow was deliberate, avoiding vital areas but delivering enough force to leave the troll reeling.

    The shackles around its ankles disrupted its bnce, and with a resounding crash, the troll toppled to the floor. It groaned pitifully, struggling to rise, but Harry wasn¡¯t finished.

    For Harry, this wasn¡¯t just about venting anymore. The troll had attacked him first, and in his mind, he was entirely justified in defending himself. Surely, no one could fault him for that.

    The troll, meanwhile, was overwhelmed with regret. What had possessed it to wander into this building? Why had it confronted this deceptively small but terrifyingly dangerous human? It could only wail in agony, its cries tinged with despair.

    Outside, Ron and Hermione reached the bathroom door, their hearts racing.

    ¡°What if it¡¯s hurting Harry right now?¡± Hermione whispered, her voice breaking.

    ¡°It¡¯s not¡ªit can¡¯t be!¡± Ron insisted, though his trembling hands betrayed his fear.

    The muffled sounds of blows and anguished howls seeped through the door. Ron gulped audibly.

    ¡°Is¡­ is this the right room?¡± he asked nervously.

    Hermione, pale but determined, whispered, ¡°Let¡¯s open it quietly. If the troll¡¯s just smashing the ce up, we don¡¯t want to provoke it.¡±

    Nodding, Ron pushed the door open a crack.

    What they saw inside rendered them utterly speechless¡ªa sight so surreal it would haunt their memories forever.

    <strong>---</strong>

    <strong>you can read more advance chapter on mypatreon</strong>

 Chapter 40: Potions Detention

    Harry hadn¡¯t read the book and had no idea what it was about.

    However, judging by Hermione¡¯s expression, he could tell that the curse mentioned in it was likely... something terrible.@@novelbin@@

    "Where did you even find that book?" Hermione eximed, clearly unsettled. Rolling her eyes, she added with a touch of exasperation, "Honestly, I¡¯m terrified this book will get us all thrown into Azkaban..."

    "Correction," Ron interjected, raising his hand theatrically. "You¡¯re a witch now. God won¡¯t save you. He¡¯d probably watch you turn into a human torch¡ª"

    Hermione shot him a venomous re.

    "Uh, what¡¯s wrong with the book?" Harry asked cautiously.

    "Do you know what the very first curse in this book is?" Hermione hissed, ncing around to make sure no one was listening before continuing in a harsh whisper, "It¡¯s the Imperius Curse! Controlling someone¡¯s soul! Who in their right mind calls that harmless?"

    Harry suddenly remembered¡ªit was the book Sebastian had stolen from the Gaunt family.

    Well... that actually made sense. Considering the Gaunt family¡¯s twisted tradition of forcing their children to use the Cruciatus Curse on Muggle kids, it wasn¡¯t surprising they¡¯d see soul maniption as a minor spell.

    "This must be a Gaunt family heirloom," Harry said without hesitation, throwing his friend under the bus. "When I took it, I noticed a name on the side¡ªsomething like Ominis Gaunt."

    "Oh, well, if it¡¯s from the Gaunts, that exins everything," Ron chimed in. "The Gaunt family¡¯s descended from Szar Slytherin, and Slytherin himself was a dark wizard."

    "One of Hogwarts'' founders?" Hermione asked, looking genuinely shocked. "Mr. Slytherin was a dark wizard? How is that possible?"

    Harry didn¡¯t argue. After all, he¡¯d seen Szar Slytherin¡¯s notes in the Chamber of Secrets before, and they weren¡¯t exactly the writings of a saint.

    Ron shrugged nonchntly, deciding to leave it at that.

    "This book is off-limits from now on!" Hermione dered firmly, her voice dropping to a fierce whisper. "I don¡¯t want to get implicated in one of these so-called ''minor'' curses and end up in Azkaban¡ªor worse, expelled from school!"

    "You really don¡¯t know which one¡¯s worse, do you?" Ron teased with a sly grin, earning himself another withering re.<hr>

    By November, the weather had grown bitterly cold.

    In the Scottish Hignds, even with the moderating effect of the North Antic Current, the hightitude gave the climate a chillparable to Moscow¡¯s.

    The mountains surrounding the school were cloaked in mist and snow. Theke¡¯s surface was frozen over with a thickyer of ice, cold and hard as tempered steel.

    Each morning, frost nketed the grounds.

    From the upper-floor windows, they could see Hagrid out on the Quidditch pitch, bundled up in a mole-fur coat, rabbit-fur gloves, and massive beaver-fur boots, de-icing the brooms.

    For some reason, Hermione seemed more nervous about Harry¡¯s first Quidditch match than he was. Ron was the same.

    Ron spent his days obsessively oiling Harry¡¯s broomstick, while Hermione borrowed<em>Quidditch Through the Ages</em>from the library and insisted Harry read up on the rules.

    The biting cold prompted Hermione to conjure several handfuls of blue mes that could be stored in jam jars and carried around. She handed them out generously¡ªnot just to Harry and Ron, but to Seamus and Neville as well.

    Seamus, who had long since let go of any grudges, was so grateful for the portable fire that he half-jokingly called Hermione ¡°Mum.¡±<hr>

    On Friday, during Potions ss, Harry absentmindedly brought<em>Quidditch Through the Ages</em>with him to the dungeon.

    Snape, as usual, hovered close, scrutinizing Harry¡¯s every move as he worked on his potion.

    When Harry sessfully brewed a wless draught of Living Death, Snape let out a nasal "hmmph."

    It was impossible to tell if he was pleased or irritated, so Harry decided to chalk it up to Snape¡¯s typical Slytherin habit of being inscrutable.

    But Snape¡¯s attention soon shifted to the book on Harry¡¯s desk. Picking it up with rming speed, he nced at the title page before sneering.

    "Well, well, Potter," Snape drawled, looming over him. "Bringing unrted books into Potions ss? Ten points from Gryffindor. And you¡¯ll be serving detention in my office every Wednesday and Saturday evening."

    Harry gaped at him, stunned. Losing points over a Quidditch book? That was new¡ªeven for Snape.

    After ss, Ron and Hermione caught up to him.

    "Harry," Ron said in a hushed tone, "did you notice Snape¡¯s limping? Looks like he¡¯s injured."

    "Now that you mention it, yeah," Harry replied, recalling Snape¡¯s uneven gait. One moment he appeared taller, the next shorter.

    "Still, I need to get that book back," Harry said with determination.

    "You¡¯re mad," Hermione and Ron said in unison.

    But Harry didn¡¯t think so. He was convinced that deep down, Snape didn¡¯t really hate him. Dislike? Maybe. But hate? Impossible. His parents¡¯ friend couldn¡¯t possibly despise him. Snape probably just had an issue with Gryffindor as a whole.

    With thisforting thought, Harry headed for the staff lounge, hoping to get lucky.

    Knocking softly on the door and hearing no response, he peeked inside. The room was empty except for Snape and Filch. Snape had lifted his robes, exposing his leg.

    Harry froze, shocked. Snape¡¯s leg was covered in fresh wounds, blood oozing from gaping cuts deep enough to expose the muscle.

    "Professor, this..." Filch muttered, handing Snape a bandage.

    "Bloody thing," Snape growled. "How does anyone manage to keep an eye on three heads at once?"

    Three heads?

    Harry frowned. Could Snape¡¯s injury be tied to some kind of three-headed creature?

    Before he could think further, a sharp voice startled him.

    "Potter!"

    Harry looked up, meeting Snape¡¯s furious re as the man hastily let his robes fall back into ce.

    "Sorry, Professor," Harry said quickly. "I just came to ask if I could have my book back?"

    "Get out!" Snape bellowed, pointing at the door.

    Harry didn¡¯t need telling twice. He bolted, silently relieved that Snape hadn¡¯t docked more points from Gryffindor.

    Still... what kind of creature had injured Snape?

    Determined to find out, Harry decided to pay Hagrid a visit. If anyone knew about magical creatures, it was Hagrid.

    <strong>---</strong>

    <strong>you can read more advance chapter on mypatreon</strong>

 Chapter 43: Is Hogwarts the Lair of Death Eaters?

    Before Harry could react, he noticed Hermione stealthily sneaking toward the teachers'' stand.

    What was she up to?

    Harry''s distraction caused him to momentarily forget to cast <em>Finite Incantatem</em>on his broomstick, leading to a violent shake that almost threw him off.

    Phew.

    The stands erupted in gasps and murmurs of rm.

    ¡°What is Hermione trying to do?¡± Ron muttered anxiously, peering through a pair of binocrs but failing to locate her.

    ¡°I¡¯ve no clue,¡± Hagrid replied absentmindedly, his massive hands sped in silent prayer for Harry.

    From above, Harry saw Hermione reach the teachers¡¯ stand. Before she could do anything, though, he suddenly felt the force that had been tossing his broom vanish.

    What was going on? He watched as Hermione lit Snape''s robes on fire.

    "You''re on fire!" shouted someone next to Snape, snapping him out of his trance. rmed, Snape quickly stood up, frantically patting down the mes, looking utterly distraught about his singed robes.

    Harry was perplexed. What was happening here?

    There was no time to ponder, though, as a golden glimmer shed before his eyes.

    The Golden Snitch!

    In an instant, Harry leaned forward, dipping his broom into a dive. With one swift motion, his hand shot out, and the Snitch was securely in his grasp.

    He raised his arm high, the small golden ball buzzing faintly in his grip.

    ¡°Harry Potter has caught the Golden Snitch! Gryffindor earns 150 points!¡± Lee Jordan¡¯s voice boomed with unrestrained excitement. ¡°Gryffindor wins the match 170 to 60!¡±

    Madam Hooch flew over on her broom, blowing her whistle to signal the end of the match.

    ¡°Gryffindor wins!¡±

    Harry gracefullynded on the field, where his ecstatic teammates quickly surrounded him, cheering loudly.

    ¡°Potter! Potter! Potter!¡±

    The Weasley twins, in perfect unison as always, pumped their fists and chanted as if they were copies of each other.

    ¡°Professor McGonagall!¡± Harry shouted excitedly, holding the Snitch aloft and beaming at her from the crowd. ¡°I caught the Golden Snitch!¡±

    Professor McGonagall approached, her expression transitioning from worry to relief as she asked, ¡°Potter, are you all right? Was there a problem with your broom?¡±

    ¡°No, Professor,¡± Harry replied, choosing to lie. ¡°I think I just lost my grip for a moment¡ªgot a little too nervous. My hands were slippery.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I see.¡± Professor McGonagall¡¯s face lit up with a smile, and she sped her hands together like an excited schoolgirl. ¡°How wonderful! We won!¡±

    ¡°We won!¡± Oliver Wood shouted, punching the air triumphantly. ¡°We finally beat Slytherin!¡±

    He had every reason to celebrate¡ªsince joining Hogwarts, Gryffindor had never beaten Slytherin in Quidditch.

    After some celebratory moments on the pitch, Harry politely declined the invitation to return to the Gryffindormon room with his teammates. Instead, he was pulled aside by Hermione and Ron, who led him to Hagrid¡¯s hut.

    ¡°It was Snape!¡± Hermione dered firmly. ¡°Ron and I saw it clearly. He was muttering an incantation while staring at your broom the entire time!¡±

    ¡°Rubbish!¡± Hagrid interjected. His focus had been entirely on Harry during the match, and he hadn¡¯t noticed Snape¡¯s actions. ¡°That¡¯s impossible!¡±

    ¡°I even cast a fire charm on Snape¡¯s robes,¡± Hermione said. ¡°And right after that, Harry¡¯s broom stabilized. It¡¯s proof that Snape was the one cursing it!¡±

    ¡°Not a chance! Absolutely not!¡± Hagrid barked, frowning deeply. ¡°Snape¡¯s a professor at Hogwarts. He wouldn¡¯t do something like that. Even if you think he might¡¯ve done it to someone else, it¡¯s out of the question when ites to Harry!¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± Ron asked in confusion.

    ¡°Don¡¯t ask me. I won¡¯t say anything,¡± Hagrid muttered, mming up. Theplicated history of the previous generation wasn¡¯t something he feltfortable gossiping about, especially since he¡¯d sworn secrecy to both Dumbledore and Snape.

    ¡°Hermione,¡± Harry interjected before she could press Hagrid further, steering the conversation elsewhere.

    ¡°Yes, Harry?¡± Hermione turned to him.

    ¡°When you climbed the teachers¡¯ stand, I saw you,¡± Harry began, speaking quietly. ¡°But before you set Snape¡¯s robes on fire, my broom had already stopped shaking. Snape was still chanting, but the broom showed no further signs of disturbance.¡±

    ¡°How did you even notice that?¡± Ron asked incredulously. ¡°Mate, you¡¯re wearing sses!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a Seeker¡¯s instinct,¡± Harry replied casually, offering an irrefutable exnation.

    Hermione began pacing the room, her brows furrowed as she muttered to herself. ¡°If that¡¯s the case, then who could it be? Are you sure, Harry?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think Snape likes me very much,¡± Harry admitted. ¡°But I¡¯m certain he¡¯s not the one trying to kill me.¡±

    He then shifted the topic to a puzzling question.

    ¡°What confuses me most is that Professor Dumbledore was in the stands the whole time. Why didn¡¯t he stop my broom from being cursed?¡±

    ¡°Or,¡± he continued thoughtfully, ¡°why did the culprit feel bold enough to cast a curse in front of Dumbledore?¡±

    A sudden thought struck Ron, and he raised a finger. ¡°Wait¡ªcould it be that Dumbledore himself¡ª¡±

    Before he could finish, Hermione elbowed him sharply.

    ¡°Ronald! Are you insane? Do you think Hogwarts is a Death Eater¡¯s headquarters?¡± she snapped, fuming like a mother lioness defending her cubs.@@novelbin@@

    Ron stuck out his tongue sheepishly. ¡°I know that¡¯s not true. I was just joking to lighten the mood.¡±

    But the atmosphere turned even more somber.

    ¡°Of course, I don¡¯t doubt Dumbledore,¡± Harry said resolutely, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. ¡°I¡¯m just questioning why he remained indifferent.¡±

    <strong>---</strong>

    <strong>you can read more advance chapter on mypatreon</strong>

 Chapter 46: Expelliarmus

    When Harry gave his answer, Dumbledore smiled, relief spreading across his face.

    "Legilimency. The incantation is <em>Legilimens</em>," he said, cing the cockroach cluster candy back into its jar.

    "But you don¡¯t need to worry. I don¡¯t use this spell on young wizards," Dumbledore added with a wise smile that suited his age. "I¡¯ve lived long enough, Harry. For a man over a hundred years old, whatever a child of eleven is thinking is usually written all over their face."

    "That¡¯s true," Harry replied with a small smile, setting his cup back on the table, though he kept his head lowered.

    Noticing Harry¡¯s lingering unease, Dumbledore spoke again. "Alright then, it¡¯s gettingte. I won¡¯t keep you here chatting any longer¡ªhead back and get a good night¡¯s sleep, Harry. Put today¡¯s troubles behind you."

    "Yes, Headmaster," Harry replied politely.

    Dumbledore blinked, his half-moon sses glinting.

    "I prefer being called ¡®Professor¡¯ over ¡®Headmaster,¡¯" he remarked.

    "Alright, Professor," Harry agreed readily.

    After Harry left, Dumbledore sat quietly in his chair for a long time, lost in thought.

    The boy¡ªHarry¡ªhad just reminded him of an old acquaintance.

    A former Hufflepuff student, none other than Newt Scamander, the famed Magizoologist.

    Dumbledore didn¡¯t suspect Harry of being the same person from a century ago. After all, time travel was known to ur asionally, but crossing a hundred years? That was unheard of.

    Besides, this Harry was not only an eleven-year-old first-year but also a child whose birth Dumbledore had personally witnessed and whom he had entrusted to the Dursleys.

    The Harry Potter from a century ago, who had perished alongside Ranrock, had been a sixth-year student.

    Unless Dumbledore had truly gone mad, such a far-fetched suspicion would never cross his mind.

    "The magic of love is truly extraordinary, isn¡¯t it?" Dumbledore mused, seemingly to himself, though perhaps he was speaking to Fawkes.

    Fawkes tilted his head and chirped twice in response.<hr>

    The next morning, right after breakfast, Harry dragged Ron and Hermione to the 7th floor of the castle.

    It was Sunday, with no sses scheduled. Ron had nned to y Wizard¡¯s Chess with someone but found himself here instead.

    He pointed to the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy being bludgeoned by trolls and said, "Look at that¡ªwhat a hrious painting."

    "¡®Barnabas the Barmy¡¯s Troll Experiment,¡¯" Hermione exined, giving Ron a brief background on the painting.

    "How do you know everything?" Ron asked, a little disheartened. "I feel like you should¡¯ve been born into a wizarding family..."

    "Read more books; it¡¯ll do you good," Hermione replied, tapping her temple with a finger.

    While the two bickered, Harry had already prepared the Room of Requirement.

    Arge door appeared out of nowhere on the wall opposite the painting, startling Ron and Hermione.

    "This is where we¡¯ll practice dueling," Harry said, introducing the room to his friends. "From now on, it¡¯ll be our secret base¡ª"

    "Really, a secret base?" Ron¡¯s interest piqued. "Brilliant! I bet Fred and George have no clue about this ce!"

    "And why¡¯s that?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

    "Because if they knew, I¡¯d know," Ron replied with a shrug.

    The trio pushed the door open and stepped inside, greeted by a professional training area for spell practice.

    The walls were mirrored, thick cushions were casually piled in the corners, and at the far end of the room stood a row of dummies holding wands.

    "Cool!" Ron eximed, pulling out his wand. "It¡¯s a shame this has to stay a secret. If Fred and George saw this, they¡¯d die of envy!"

    "So, which spell are we practicing?" Hermione asked.

    "Spells Professor Quirrell won¡¯t teach us," Harry said sinctly. "For example, the most basic dueling spell¡ªthe Disarming Charm."

    He walked to the center of the room and summoned a dummy holding a wand.

    "Watch closely¡ªlike this. <em>Expelliarmus!</em>"

    A sh of red light shot from Harry¡¯s wand, striking the dummy¡¯s hand. The wand spun through the air, and Harry deftly caught it.

    "This is the simple Disarming Charm," Harry exined, cing the wand back in the dummy¡¯s hand.

    "That¡¯s the Disarming Charm?" Ron scratched his head. "Doesn¡¯t seem very cool¡ªdefinitely not as shy as I imagined."

    "The most powerful spells are often the simplest," Harry exined. "Spellcasting is infinitely versatile¡ªjust like the Levitation Charm you¡¯ve used before."

    Harry demonstrated, pointing his wand at a nearby chair. "<em>Wingardium Leviosa!</em>"

    The chair floated into the air.

    "Now watch this."

    Harry set the chair down gently, then used the Disarming Charm to knock the dummy¡¯s wand away again. This time, he followed up with the Levitation Charm to elerate the wand¡¯s flight, sending it hurtling into the dummy¡¯s eye socket.

    "That¡¯s barbaric..." Hermione frowned.

    "Barbaric?" Harry thought to himself. It was clear these children had grown up in peaceful times.

    Back in his day, students feared their spells weren¡¯t barbaric enough to effectively harm Dark wizards.

    "Dark wizards won¡¯t bother with civility, Hermione," Harry said. "You need to understand¡ªthey¡¯re vicious and ruthless. Take the Death Eaters who tortured Neville¡¯s parents, for example. Do you think they care about being civil or barbaric in a duel? No, at that moment, you¡¯d only worry whether your spells were strong enough."

    "Harry¡¯s right," Ron added. "Dark wizards are the most cunning and merciless people you¡¯ll ever meet..."

    "Sorry, Harry," Hermione said, nodding in agreement.

    "Here¡¯s how it¡¯s done," Harry said, patting Ron¡¯s shoulder and demonstrating in slow motion. "Swing your wand like this¡ªhorizontal, then vertical... <em>Expelliarmus!</em>"

    "<em>Expelliarmus!</em>" Ron mimicked Harry, pointing his wand at the dummy in the middle of the room.

    Nothing happened.

    The atmosphere grew awkward.

    It wasn¡¯t just Ron; Hermione also failed to produce any results.

    Harry patiently corrected their movements. Half an hourter, Hermione sessfully cast the Disarming Charm, followed shortly by a determined Ron.

    While Ron and Hermione practiced, Harry found himself deep in thought.

    There was no doubt that the Disarming Charm had been his specialty back in the day.

    Veratia had even suggested he refine the spell further. Her idea was to mark a target with other magic, allowing the Disarming Charm to chain between multiple enemies.

    In simple terms, it meant a single Disarming Charm could disarm multiple opponents at once.

    In theory, when several enemies were close together, one Disarming Charm could disarm them simultaneously. But Veratia¡¯s vision was to extend this capability to distant or even extreme distances, allowing one spell to disarm multiple foes at once.

    <strong>---</strong>

    <strong>you can read more advance chapter on mypatreon</strong>@@novelbin@@

 Chapter 49: I mean, All of you here are trash!

    Flint never expected that Harry was just as eager to teach this group of Slytherins a lesson.

    Arrogant, self-important, and smug...

    Ha! You lot think you¡¯re worthy?

    You¡¯re a disgrace to the Slytherins of a hundred years ago!

    With quick reflexes, Harry used his wand to deflect the curse, swiftly following up with an <em>Expelliarmus</em>.

    It was a subtle technique¡ªwhile it appeared as if Harry merely used his wand to parry, it was actually a <em>Protego</em>.

    ¡°Non-verbal spellcasting?¡± The onlookers were stunned.

    No one had anticipated that Harry would be capable of such an advanced skill¡ªsomething typically reserved for adult wizards.

    ¡°What are you standing around for?¡± Flint roared. Even without a wand, he still had his proud, strong physique.

    After all, the Potter kid was just a scrawny little first-year¡ªif Flint could just get close enough, everything would be fine!@@novelbin@@

    But he had barely taken two steps when his body suddenly floated into the air,pletely out of his control.

    ¡°<em>Expelliarmus!</em>¡±

    Ron¡¯s wand shot out a beam of light, sessfully disarming the upperssman who had his wand pointed at Harry from behind.

    The wand spun through the air andnded in Ron¡¯s hand. Behind him, Seamus and Neville let out cheers of excitement.

    ¡°Merlin¡¯s beard, Ron! How did you do that?¡± Neville whispered urgently, a mix of awe and envy in his voice.

    ¡°Harry taught me,¡± Ron said smugly.

    ¡°Ronald!¡± Hermione hissed sharply. ¡°Can you focus on the fight, for heaven¡¯s sake? We¡¯re still under attack!¡±

    Ron jolted back to his senses, scrambling to dodge a curse fired by one of the older students.

    He was just a first-year¡ªhe hadn¡¯t even learned the <em>Protego</em>spell yet.

    Not that it was entirely his fault. In truth, in the current British wizarding world, many adult wizards¡ªAurors included¡ªcouldn¡¯t properly cast <em>Protego</em>.

    It wasughable¡ªalmost as ridiculous as a U.S. police officer showing up without a gun.

    Unfortunately, Neville wasn¡¯t so lucky. A curse hit him squarely, his body stiffening as he copsed to the floor with a loud thud.

    ¡°Oh, poor Neville,¡± Ron muttered nervously, retaliating with another disarming spell and knocking yet another wand into his own hand.

    Never mind that their opponents were fifth-years¡ªhonestly, their magical skill was abysmal.

    The trio hadn¡¯t even practicedbat coordination before, yet with Harry¡¯s experience on their side, dealing with these fifth-years was a walk in the park.

    Within minutes, the fifth-years had all been soundly defeated.

    Harry¡¯s emotions wereplicated. He wasn¡¯t happy about this oue.

    Seriously, what had happened to Hogwarts?

    Fifth-years who couldn¡¯t even cast a proper <em>Protego</em>, let alone stand up to a bunch of first-years?

    Were fifth-years <em>always</em>this pathetic?

    Harry thought back to his own fifth year¡ªback then, he¡¯d been able to take on three Ashwinders single-handedly ande out on top.

    Compared to these fifth-years, he was leagues ahead.

    ¡°<em>Finite!</em>¡± Harry cast a counter-spell on Neville, helping him back to his feet.

    Neville groaned, rubbing the sore spot on his head where it had hit the floor. ¡°Ron, why didn¡¯t you warn me?¡±

    ¡°Mate, it all happened so fast,¡± Ron said apologetically. ¡°I didn¡¯t think the curse would hit you.¡±

    ¡°Potter! Put us down!¡± Flint¡¯s voice rang out angrily.

    ¡°Oh, my apologies,¡± Harry said breezily, ¡°I didn¡¯t realize Slytherins were so fragile.¡±

    Seven fifth-year Slytherins hade forward to defend Pansy. Now, two of them were floating helplessly in the air, and five were lying t on the ground.

    ¡°Apologize to Hermione,¡± Harry demanded.

    ¡°Over my dead body!¡± Flint snarled from mid-air. ¡°I¡¯ll never apologize to that filthy little Mudblood!¡±

    Harry¡¯s expression went cold.

    With a flick of his wand, Flint came crashing to the ground with a thud.

    ¡°I said, apologize.¡±

    Harry¡¯s wand moved again, and Flint cried out in shock as his knees buckled, forcing him into a kneeling position.

    ¡°The apple doesn¡¯t fall far from the tree,¡± Harry said dryly, shaking his head. ¡°From your behavior, it¡¯s easy to tell what kind of family raised you.¡±

    ¡°How dare you insult the Flint family! You¡¯ll pay for that, Potter!¡± Flint spat, his face contorted in rage.

    ¡°Oh, does that bother you?¡± Harry leaned closer, his voice low and full of scorn. ¡°Funny how you didn¡¯t consider the consequences when you insulted others. Let¡¯s face it¡ªit takes a trash wizard family to raise a trash wizard like you...¡±

    ¡°Stop it!¡±

    A clear, authoritative voice cut through the crowd, silencing Harry mid-sentence.

    The onlookers parted to make way for the Slytherin prefect, Gemma Farley, who approached with a stack of books in her arms.

    ¡°What is going on here?¡± Prefect Farley demanded sharply, scanning the scene.

    ¡°Miss Farley, it¡¯s like this¡­¡±

    Several Slytherin students hurried forward, eager to tell their version of the story, heavily embellished in their favor.

    ¡°Flint, Bole, Derrick!¡± Farley¡¯s voice rang with anger. ¡°You¡¯re telling me that you fifth-years were defeated by three first-years from Gryffindor?¡±

    ¡°Look at you, Flint! You¡¯ve brought shame to your family!¡± she snapped.

    ¡°Miss Farley, Potter insulted my family¡ª¡±

    ¡°Silence!¡± Farley cut him off coldly. ¡°You brought this on yourself! Who do you think you are, using that word? Slytherin will lose ten points because of your outburst!¡±

    ¡°And you, Miss Parkinson,¡± she added, ¡°will also lose ten points!¡±

    Prefects had the authority to deduct points from students as punishment for breaking rules.

    The Slytherins were stunned. None of them had expected their own prefect to dock points from Slytherin.

    Whose side was she on, anyway?

    But Gemma knew she had no choice. If it had just been a scuffle among younger students, that was one thing. But fifth-years bullying first-years? If the professors found out, it would take far more than twenty points to smooth things over.

    Not to mention, Marcus Flint and Pansy Parkinson had openly used the word ¡°Mudblood¡± to insult a Gryffindor student. That was a serious offense.

    ¡°You are a fair prefect,¡± Harry said politely, giving Farley a small, formal bow. ¡°If there¡¯s nothing else, we¡¯ll be on our way.¡±

    ¡°Hold it right there, Mr. Potter.¡±

    Harry raised an eyebrow. ¡°Is there something else?¡±

    Farley stepped forward, her ck hair swaying gently in the breeze.

    ¡°I challenge you to a wizard¡¯s duel,¡± she said firmly.

    <strong>---</strong>

    <strong>you can read more advance chapter on mypatreon</strong>

 Chapter 51: You wonâ€™t be so lucky next time, Potter

    Gemma grabbed Harry''s hand and used it to steady herself as she stood up.

    ¡°Do you really think they¡¯ll listen to you?¡± Harry asked, slipping his hands into his pockets. His tone was casual, but there was a hint of curiosity. ¡°I mean, you just lost to a first-year. Won¡¯t that hurt your reputation in your house?¡±

    Gemma smiled faintly, herposure unshaken.

    ¡°If it¡¯s to the great Savior himself, no. After all, you defeated the Dark Lord,¡± she replied smoothly.

    With that, she turned her head, her voicemanding as she called out, ¡°Alright, Parkinson, Flint¡ªgo apologize to Miss Granger!¡±

    Pansy and Marcus exchanged uneasy nces, their expressions pleading for leniency. But Gemma¡¯s gaze was firm, leaving no room for argument.

    To Harry¡¯s surprise, the two Slytherins, under Gemma¡¯s orders, obediently walked over to Hermione. They bowed slightly and offered their apologies, their voices carrying a sincerity that seemed out of character.

    Harry couldn¡¯t help but feel a twinge of doubt. Were these truly the same people who had been so defiant moments ago?

    Draco Malfoy stood in the background, his face briefly betraying a flicker of disappointment.

    ¡°Not all Slytherins are hopeless,¡± Harry murmured to Gemma. ¡°At least there¡¯s someone like you¡ªa worthy opponent, Miss Farley.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for thepliment, Mr. Potter,¡± Gemma replied with a graceful curtsey.

    The duel was over, and with the agreement fulfilled, the crowd began to disperse. The students, still buzzing with excitement, chattered about the unexpected turn of events.

    The sight of Slytherins bowing and admitting fault left many in disbelief. Some whispered theories of a hidden agenda, a cunning scheme orchestrated by Gemma Farley to exact revengeter. After all, Slytherins admitting defeat? That was unheard of.

    ***

    On the way back to the Gryffindormon room, Ron muttered, ¡°They¡¯re definitely up to something. That¡¯s just how Slytherins are. Still... this Farley girl¡ªif Percy praises her, she must be something. Honestly, she doesn¡¯t seem like a typical Slytherin.¡±

    No, Harry thought, this is what a true Slytherin looks like.

    Slytherins of the past¡ªthe ones from a century ago¡ªhad been different. Ruthless, yes, and unyielding, but they confronted their opponents directly. They didn¡¯t rely on cheap tricks or schemes to win.

    But today¡¯s Slytherins? Many were the children of Death Eaters. What could you expect from students raised in such households?

    ¡°Miss Farley is indeed a respectable prefect,¡± Hermione said thoughtfully. ¡°But won¡¯t her actions provoke bacsh from the other Slytherins?¡±

    ¡°Not a chance,¡± Ron said with certainty. ¡°Farley isn¡¯t just a prefect. She¡¯s the top student in her year¡ªbeat out the older ones to earn her spot.¡±

    Hermione looked wistful. ¡°I hope I can be as strong as her someday...¡±

    ¡°Not as strong as Harry?¡± Ron teased, grinning mischievously.

    ¡°Oh, honestly, Ronald.¡± Hermione rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not even aiming to match him...¡±

    Someone like Gemma, with her spellcasting prowess, seemed like an attainable goal. But Harry¡¯s level? It felt so far out of reach, it was almost suffocating. Even Hermione, brilliant as she was, felt the gulf between their abilities.

    ¡°I¡¯m just average,¡± Harry said modestly. ¡°By the time you¡¯re in fifth year, you¡¯ll probably have caught up to me.¡±

    Everyoneughed, but as theughter subsided, Neville spoke up timidly.

    ¡°Um, Harry, I heard you¡¯ve been helping Ron and Hermione with spells. Do you think you could... maybe help me and Seamus too?¡± He hesitated before adding softly, ¡°I know I¡¯m not very good, but I really want to learn...¡±

    A warm hand rested on his shoulder.

    ¡°Why not?¡± Harry said with an encouraging smile. ¡°We¡¯re all ssmates. Helping each other is what we¡¯re supposed to do¡ªlearning from one another¡¯s strengths.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Hermione chimed in. ¡°Look, I¡¯m good at subjects that require memorization, like History of Magic. Harry is amazing at spellwork. And Ron... well, Ron is very funny.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Ron protested, indignant. ¡°What do you mean, just funny? I work hard too, you know!¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Hermione said, giving him a pointed look. ¡°Except when practicing spells, you always stop at ¡®good enough.¡¯ And in real battles, you¡¯re always ¡®just short.¡¯ Didn¡¯t you notice? It took you two tries to disarm that big guy next to Flint.¡±

    Ron pouted but didn¡¯t argue. He knew Hermione was right. If she hadn¡¯t pulled him out of the way of a spell during the duel, he might have been hit.

    Watching their banter, Harry¡¯s mind drifted to memories of Cassandra.

    ----

    During his first two years at Hogwarts, he¡¯d been carefree¡ªying wizard chess with Gareth, sneaking snacks from Professor Howin, and petting magical creatures with Poppy. Spellwork had been a secondary concern, something he only practiced enough to get by.

    Then Cassandra had dragged him into the Dueling Club. She humiliated him relentlessly, disarming him, suspending him in midair, or forcing him to dance uncontrobly during every duel.

    ¡°I was this close to beating you!¡± Harry would shout indignantly, dangling upside down.

    Cassandra would poke his cheek with her wand, smiling warmly¡ªat least 37 degrees warm¡ªwhile delivering words as cold as -37 degrees.

    ¡°You always settle for ¡®good enough,¡¯ Potter. And when the timees, you¡¯ll always fall ¡®just short.¡¯ When will you grow up?¡±

    At the time, he¡¯d hated her for it. But during their first encounter with poachers in the Forbidden Forest, her training had saved his life.

    ¡°Next time, we won¡¯t be so lucky, Potter,¡± she¡¯d snapped after deflecting a spell meant for him. Her tone was sharp, but her movements calm as she cast a quick-healing charm on her arm.

    ----

    ¡°Harry? Harry?¡±

    Hermione¡¯s voice pulled him back to the present. She waved a hand in front of his face.

    ¡°Huh?¡± Harry blinked.

    ¡°You seemed distracted. Is something bothering you?¡± Hermione asked, concerned.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s nothing,¡± Harry said with a smile. Then he turned to Neville and Seamus. ¡°I hope you two won¡¯t give up after just a few days of practice,ining about how hard it is.¡±

    ¡°We won¡¯t!¡± Neville and Seamus said in unison.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s vote,¡± Harry announced. ¡°I propose we wee two new members to our dueling club. I¡¯m in favor.¡±

    ¡°So am I,¡± Hermione said, raising her hand.

    ¡°Count me in too,¡± Ron added.

    ¡°Three to zero.¡± Harry extended his hand. ¡°Wee aboard, Neville and Seamus.¡±

    <strong>---</strong>@@novelbin@@

    <strong>you can read more advance chapter on mypatreon</strong>

 Chapter 53: Ambush Quirrell

    Harry slipped the biting Chinese cabbage into a small pouch¡ªan item he''d purchased earlier in Diagon Alley from a rather mysterious wizard.

    The pouch, enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm, was no longer legally sold to the general public. Such enchantments were now restricted, with exceptions made only for school trunks that first-years had to buy from certified vendors.

    He also slid a pair of dragon-hide gloves into his pocket. Without proper protection, handling a Chinese biting cabbage could wreak havoc on one¡¯s hands.

    ¡°I should grab some biting cabbage seeds next time I¡¯m in Diagon Alley,¡± Harry mused to himself. Neville was adept at cultivating peculiar nts like these¡ªdelegating the task to him seemed like a no-brainer.

    But seeds for biting cabbage weren¡¯t sold to young wizards in Diagon Alley. For those, one would need to venture into the shadowy recesses of Knockturn Alley.

    Tucking the enchanted pouch securely, Harry tiptoed out of the dormitory.

    When he reached the Great Hall, the Weasley twins were already waiting¡ªand visibly impatient.

    ¡°Oh, finally!¡± Fred eximed.

    ¡°Fred thought you¡¯d chickened out and decided to bail,¡± George added with a smirk.

    ¡°Rx. Even if you two ran off, I wouldn¡¯t,¡± Harry retorted, his tone firm. ¡°Gryffindor doesn¡¯tck courage, right?¡±

    ¡°Courage like persuading Quirrell to take off that suspicious turban of his?¡± The twins exchanged nces and pped their hands together in unison. ¡°Yeah, sounds about right!¡±

    Harry rolled his eyes. ¡°Listen up.¡± He sat down, drumming his fingers on the table. ¡°Here¡¯s the n: the three of us will follow Quirrell as scheduled. You two are in charge of throwing snowballs. If he takes off the turban, perfect. If not, I¡¯ll handle the next part. Got it?¡±

    ¡°Got it, Lion King,¡± the twins chorused.

    ¡°Good.¡± Harry nced at the clock on the wall. ¡°It¡¯s 7:50 now. We¡¯ve got ten minutes to set up¡ª¡±

    Before he could finish, Hedwig swooped into the hall, wingsboring against the bitter cold. She seemed so drained that she practically crashnded into Harry¡¯s arms, like a bird shot from the sky.

    ¡°Your owl doesn¡¯t look great,¡± Fred observed. ¡°You should get her some tonic. The weather¡¯s brutal.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re probably right,¡± Harry agreed, carefully taking a letter from Hedwig¡¯s beak.

    ¡°Ooh, ooh!¡± George¡¯s eyes lit up as he spotted the handwriting on the envelope. ¡°Looks like it¡¯s from a girl¡­¡±

    ¡°Enough, George! Respect his privacy,¡± Fred chided, dragging his brother back before turning to Harry. ¡°We¡¯ll scout ahead for you.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll catch up soon,¡± Harry replied.

    Once the twins left, Harry unfolded the letter. A faint scent of vani drifted up as he read:<hr>

    <strong>Dear Mr. Potter,</strong>

    I must apologize for yesterday. Being a Slytherin Prefect carries not only honor but also responsibility.@@novelbin@@

    Might you have time today? I¡¯ll be waiting in the empty ssroom on the second floor. Please send your reply with your owl. I¡¯ll await your response.

    Sincerely,

    <strong>Gemma Farley</strong><hr>

    ¡°Gemma Farley?¡± Harry murmured, folding the letter and slipping it back into the envelope.

    What could she want?

    An invitation was an invitation, and Harry saw no reason to decline.

    <em>I¡¯m a Gryffindor¡ªwhy should I be afraid of a Slytherin?</em>

    Borrowing paper and a quill from a cheerful Hufflepuff boy nearby, Harry quickly penned a response and handed it to Hedwig.

    ¡°Thanks for the quill and parchment,¡± Harry said, returning the items. ¡°Hi, I¡¯m Harry Potter.¡±

    ¡°Of course I know who you are!¡± the boy said with a bright grin, extending a hand. ¡°Cedric Diggory. Just call me Cedric.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Cedric,¡± Harry nodded before pointing toward the door. ¡°Sorry, the twins are waiting for me outside.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t let me keep you, Harry,¡± Cedric chuckled. ¡°Go on before they get impatient.¡±

    Downing a quick ss of water, Harry bade Cedric farewell and hurried out.

    The twins were crouched behind some bushes, shivering against the icy wind.

    ¡°Guys.¡±

    Harry ducked behind the bushes and froze. His eyes fell on the massive stockpile of snowballs behind them¡ªenough to supply Napoleon¡¯s artillery corps.

    ¡°What the¡ª?! The n was to hit Quirrell! Not every professor on campus!¡±

    ¡°Rx,¡± Fred said nonchntly, grabbing a snowball the size of two fists. ¡°These are the ordinary ones.¡± He crushed it with a dramatic flourish.

    ¡°This,¡± George added, holding another, ¡°is the <em>enhanced</em> version.¡± He brushed off the surface snow, revealing a gleaming ice core.

    Harry¡¯s eyelid twitched. <em>Good grief, these two are terrifying.</em>

    All I wanted was to chuck a Chinese biting cabbage at Quirrell. But <em>this</em>? What are they even trying to do?!

    ¡°Isn¡¯t this overkill?¡± Harry ventured cautiously.

    ¡°Well,¡± Fred shrugged, ¡°it beats sitting through another ss of garlic fumes. Honestly, I¡¯d rather have Snape teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. At least we¡¯d learn something useful¡ªeven if Gryffindor lost a hundred points.¡±

    ¡°Shh!¡± George suddenly grabbed their sleeves. ¡°Someone¡¯sing!¡±

    The three of them peered over the bushes to see Quirrell strolling toward the Great Hall, a book clutched under one arm.

    ¡°Ready¡ª¡± Fred whispered.

    The twins lobbed their snowballs at Quirrell¡¯s turban.

    ¡°Who¡¯s there?!¡± Quirrell yelped, swatting at his head. But no matter how frantically he iled, the turban remained firmly in ce.

    As the twins prepared their ¡°enhanced¡± snowballs, Harry stopped them.

    ¡°Let me.¡±

    Donning his dragon-hide gloves, Harry reached into his enchanted pouch. The twins watched as he pulled out the Chinese biting cabbage, now wriggling slightly in the frigid air.

    Harry approached Quirrell, feigning a stumble as he neared.

    The flowerpot shattered with a sharp <em>crack</em>, sending the cabbage bouncing across the ground like a rogue Bludger.

    In seconds, ittched onto Quirrell¡¯s neck.

    ¡°AAAAHHHHHHH!!!¡±

    Quirrell¡¯s piercing scream echoed through the grounds.

    <strong>---</strong>

    <strong>you can read more advance chapter & Fast update on mypatreon</strong>

 Chapter 55: No One Understands Malfoy Better Than Me

    "That might have to wait," Harry said.

    The twins exchanged a nce and asked in unison, "Why?"

    "Well, the first time, you could im it was unintentional. But if you do it again, it would look like you''re deliberately pranking a professor," Harry shrugged.

    "You''re right," the twins said with a chuckle. "Anyway, there are no sses today. Want to join us for a snowball fight?"

    "No, I¡¯ve got something to do," Harry declined.

    As he was about to head to the Great Hall, Harry looked up and saw Hagrid dragging a massive fir tree inside.

    At Hogwarts, the only person capable of moving such a huge tree with sheer muscle was Hagrid.

    "Need a hand, Hagrid?" Harry called out.

    Hagrid''s shaggy head popped out from behind the tree, a warm smile on his face. "Thanks, Harry, but I¡¯ve got it. You go on to the Great Hall."

    Not arguing, Harry turned and continued on his way.

    Unfortunately, Professor Sprout hadn¡¯t returned the biting cabbage to him. After all, it had been the culprit that had chomped down on the back of Professor Quirrell''s head.

    "Hey, mate," Ron greeted, already up and about. "Do you know where that biting cabbage ended up? Neville¡¯s going crazy looking for it."

    "Professor Sprout confiscated it," Harry replied. "I identally tripped while carrying it, and it flew out and bit Professor Quirrell on the back of the head."

    Ron leaned back dramatically, his eyes wide.

    After a moment, he managed to croak, "That¡¯s¡­ actually kind of cool. I thought that cabbage was just ornamental, but turns out it¡¯s for biting professors."

    As the holidays approached, the students¡¯ minds were wandering.

    Those who would usually pretend to study in the Great Hall had given up the act, instead happily chatting about their ns for the break.

    After lunch, Harry remembered his appointment with Miss Fawley and left the Great Hall.

    "This is so frustrating," Hermione muttered, ruffling her hair in annoyance. She¡¯d hoped to squeeze in some study time in the hall.

    Looking up, she saw Ron ying wizard chess with Neville.

    "Look at you. All you ever do is y wizard chess. It¡¯s pathetic!" Hermione began scolding him.

    Ron puffed out his cheeks indignantly. "What else am I supposed to do? It¡¯s the holidays! Besides, aren¡¯t you going home? Why are you still here at Hogwarts?"

    "It¡¯s only the 16th! I leave tomorrow," Hermione said quietly. "But you, Ronald¡ªwe promised Harry that after the holidays, we¡¯d start realbat practice. Have you memorized your spells?"

    "Of course I have," Ron replied confidently.

    "Then tell me, what¡¯s the incantation for the Stunning spell?" Hermione asked.

    Ron froze. He stammered for a while but couldn¡¯te up with the answer.

    "Fine. Then what¡¯s the incantation for the sting Curse?" she pressed.

    "Uh..." Ron wracked his brain but drew a nk again.

    Hermione gave him a disdainful look and asked one more time, "What about the Petrification Spell?"

    "That one I know!" Ron eximed, a lightbulb going off. "You used it on Crabbe and Goyle on the train!"

    Hermione¡¯s face softened into a faint smile.

    But then Ron¡¯s next words made her hang her head in despair.

    "Uh, what¡¯s the incantation again?"

    Scratching his head awkwardly, Ron grabbed a nearby soda can and took a big swig.

    "Cut back on the soda, Ron. It¡¯s bad for your teeth," Hermione advised. "My dad¡¯s a dentist, and that¡¯s what he always tells me."@@novelbin@@

    "It¡¯s fine," Ron said. "The wizarding world has Tooth-Strengthening Potions. Haven¡¯t you heard of them? Our very own Dumbledore even endorsed them."

    "Now that you mention it, I remember seeing something about that in my Potions book," Hermione said thoughtfully. "If it works, maybe I should buy some to take home. It might boost my dad¡¯s dental practice!"

    Ron didn¡¯t reply, taking another sip of his soda.

    "Weasley," drawled Draco¡¯s irritating voice.

    Seeing that Harry wasn¡¯t around, Draco had regained his usual swagger.

    "Malfoy?" Ron turned, soda in hand, to see Draco¡¯s pale, sharp face.

    "Is that a Muggle drink you¡¯re holding?" Draco sneered. "Just like your familypletely disgraceful. Not only do you befriend... Muggle-borns, but you even use their products. Truly the shame of pure-bloods."

    Ron¡¯s face turned red as he gripped the soda can, ready to throw it.

    But Hermione stopped him, firing back, "Oh? Really? I wonder what your ancestors would think of you mocking the descendants of their old allies."

    "What do you mean?" Draco asked, frowning.

    "You don¡¯t know?" Hermione gasped theatrically, covering her mouth. "Goodness, the ancestors of the Malfoy family fought side by side with the Weasleys to quell the Goblin Rebellion. You didn¡¯t know that?"

    "I... I..." Draco stammered, suddenly unsure.

    Could the Mudblood be telling the truth? Draco wondered. But then again, why hadn¡¯t his father mentioned it?

    "What nonsense are you spouting?" Draco snapped, trying to recover. "How would a Muggle-born like you know anything about the Malfoy family?"

    "Oh, poor thing," Hermione said, wagging a finger mockingly. "Imagine not knowing your own family history. Shame on you!"

    Draco¡¯s face turned crimson¡ªnot because of Hermione¡¯s tone, but because of her words. <em>Not knowing more than a Muggle-born about the Malfoy family?</em>That was humiliating.

    "Impossible! If that were true, my father would have told me! You¡¯re just making things up to defend your little boyfriend!" Draco retorted.

    Hermione pulled out a book and mmed it on the table with a thud, reading aloud an ount of Cassandra Malfoy¡¯s exploits.

    Draco leaned in reluctantly. The detailed records made him doubt his own knowledge.

    If it was true, why hadn¡¯t the Malfoy family celebrated this history? And if it wasn¡¯t, why was it documented here?

    He noticed the author¡¯s name on the title page¡ªBathilda Bagshot. Her reputation in magical history rivaled only that of Professor Binns.

    "Ask your father about it, Malfoy," Ron chimed in, ying along. "Ask him if there was a Cassandra Malfoy. It¡¯s hard to believe that the so-called proud Malfoys would ignore such a shining figure in their family¡¯s history. Really makes you wonder who the true disgrace to pure-bloods is!"

    Draco was visibly shaken.

    Without another word, he stormed off, nning to confront his father about it during the holidays.

    <strong>---</strong>

    <strong>you can read more advance chapter & Fast update on mypatreon</strong>

 Chapter 57 â€œThe Malfoy Family, a Secret Historyâ€

    The Granger household consisted of dentists. They weren¡¯t destitute by any means, but neither could they be described as fabulously wealthy.

    There¡¯s an old saying: ¡°Gold teeth and silver eyes.¡±

    Dentistry, after all, was a lucrative profession. For the Grangers, being exceptional in their field meant their clinic was always bustling with patients.

    Take their Bentley Arnage, for instance¡ªit represented half a year¡¯s ie for Mr. Granger.

    Oddly enough, Mr. Granger had taken quite a liking to Ron Weasley, particrly fascinated by Mr. Weasley¡¯s enchanted flying car.

    To this Muggle gentleman, even a hundred Bentleys couldn¡¯t hold a candle to the wonder of a car that could soar through the skies.

    ¡°That¡¯s just so coooool,¡± he eximed, his enthusiasm genuine and unrestrained.

    Throughout their journey, Mr. Granger couldn¡¯t stop peppering Ron with questions about the car, even suggesting that Ron ask his father if Mr. Granger could visit the Burrow during the summer to see it.

    Ron, naturally, agreed without hesitation. Despite it being their first meeting, he found himself genuinely liking Mr. Granger.

    ***

    Meanwhile, back at Malfoy Manor, Draco had already returned home.

    The moment he stepped inside, his face was clouded with displeasure.

    ¡°Draco?¡± Narcissa Malfoy asked, her voice tinged with concern. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? You¡¯ve been in a foul mood since you arrived. Did something happen at school?¡±

    Draco shook his head, his thoughts etched inly across his face.

    ¡°Let¡¯s eat first,¡± Narcissa said gently, sensing he wasn¡¯t ready to talk. ¡°I had Dobby prepare your favorite¡ªred wine-braised beef.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Mother,¡± Draco replied, managing a faint smile as he followed her to the dining room.

    Narcissa took her seat to Lucius¡¯s right, while Draco sat across from her.

    ¡°Ah, Draco,¡± Lucius said, ncing up briefly from the <em>Daily Prophet</em>, ¡°congrattions on being sorted into Slytherin.¡±

    ¡°You already congratted me in your letter, Father,¡± Draco replied, his eyes flicking to the newspaper obscuring Lucius¡¯s face. For some reason, he felt a sudden surge of boldness.

    ¡°You lied to me,¡± Draco blurted out. ¡°The Sorting Ceremony doesn¡¯t involve fighting a werewolf...¡±

    He thought he heard a faint, synchronized ¡°pfft¡± from both his parents¡ªa sound so subtle it might have been missed if not for his heightened awareness.

    Could it be? Were they stiflingughter?

    Impossible. Absolutely not.

    ¡°All right, Draco,¡± Narcissa interjected gently, cutting him off. ¡°Finish your meal. Your father has been waiting to speak with you.¡±

    Draco had a nagging suspicion that his mother was suppressingughter, but he had no proof. He merely mumbled an ¡°okay¡± and sullenly ate the meal he would have otherwise relished.

    After dinner, when the house-elves served tea, Draco hesitated several times before finally mustering the courage to speak.

    ¡°Draco, if something¡¯s on your mind, just tell your father,¡± Narcissa urged, giving Lucius a pointed look.

    With a sigh, Lucius lowered his newspaper.

    ¡°It¡¯s like this, Father.¡± Draco took a deep breath, carefully choosing his words. ¡°I heard some troubling rumors at school...¡±

    ¡°Troubling rumors?¡± Lucius¡¯s gaze sharpened as he exchanged a nce with Narcissa. Could someone at school have said something to upset Draco? Or worse, had whispers about Lucius¡¯s past as a Death Eater reached his son¡¯s ears?

    ¡°What kind of rumors?¡± Lucius asked.

    ¡°They¡¯re about our ancestors.¡± Draco hesitated. ¡°Is it true that someone in our family once fought alongside a Weasley to suppress a goblin rebellion and destroy the Ashwinder? I heard her name was... Cassandra.¡±

    The moment the name escaped Draco¡¯s lips, Lucius¡¯s expression shifted dramatically.

    ¡°Who told you that name?¡± he demanded sharply.

    ¡°A ssmate,¡± Draco stammered, swallowing hard. ¡°One of Harry Potter¡¯s friends.¡±@@novelbin@@

    ¡°Silence!¡± Lucius thundered, mming his serpent-headed cane onto the floor. ¡°How dare you... how dare you mention that name!¡±

    Draco flinched, startled by his father¡¯s intensity.

    Harry Potter?

    Why was that name so taboo?

    Saint Potter!

    ¡°H-he¡¯s my ssmate,¡± Draco mumbled softly.

    Lucius froze briefly before his features softened ever so slightly. He exhaled and began rubbing the silver serpent on his cane with his thumb.

    ¡°Oh, you were talking about Harry Potter. I thought you meant... him.¡±

    ¡°¡®Him¡¯? What do you mean?¡± Draco asked, perplexed. ¡°Was there another Harry Potter?¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes,¡± Lucius replied, his tone dry and uneasy.

    Taking a sip of tea to moisten his throat, he continued, ¡°As you might guess, there was another Harry Potter. You know the title ¡®the Dark Lord¡¯? It was originally used, not for the dark wizard we know, but to describe this man.¡±

    ¡°Was he more terrifying than the Dark Lord?¡± Draco asked, leaning back in astonishment.

    ¡°Hmm... many truths about him have been obscured by goblins over the years,¡± Lucius mused. ¡°But you¡¯re correct. Our family did have an ancestor named Cassandra Malfoy. She was your grandfather Abraxas¡¯s aunt, which makes her my grandaunt and your great-grandaunt.¡±

    Lucius paused, as though weighing how much to reveal.

    ¡°There¡¯s no harm in telling you now since you¡¯ve already heard part of it. She followed that man¡ªalong with hispanions¡ªto thwart the goblins¡¯ rebellion and destroy the Ashwinder. However, in their final confrontation with the goblin leader Ranrok, he perished alongside the goblin. No one knows what became of him.¡±

    ¡°So... he just died?¡± Draco asked, frowning.

    ¡°Some believe he died; others think he survived,¡± Lucius replied, a trace of mncholy coloring his voice. ¡°As for Cassandra, she was an extraordinarily gifted witch. ording to your great-grandfather, at your age, she could already cast a wless Shield Charm.¡±

    ¡°Then why have I never heard of her before?¡± Draco pressed. ¡°If the Malfoy family produced such an exceptional witch, why isn¡¯t her name celebrated? Why hasn¡¯t anyone¡ªGrandfather or you¡ªever mentioned her?¡±

    <strong>---</strong>

    <strong>you can read more advance chapter & Fast update on mypatreon</strong>

 Chapter 59: Out-of-Body Experience

    Harry had already given much thought to the gifts he would prepare for his professors.

    It wasn¡¯t just about the professors; even his ssmates¡ªand surprisingly, his cousin Dudley¡ªdeserved something this year.

    But Professor Snape presented a unique challenge. Harry knew Snape was a Potions Master, and giving him a potion would be pointless; Snape could undoubtedly brew far superior ones himself.

    What could he do?

    Lying on his bed, Harry wrestled with the question for a long time before finallying up with an unconventional idea.

    That¡¯s it!

    Since Snape had a good rtionship with his parents, why not gift him a photo of them for Christmas?

    Once the idea took root, Harry was certain it was the perfect choice.

    The photo of his parents was a gift from Hagrid, who, perhaps worried Harry might lose it, had thoughtfully made several duplicates.

    This would make the perfect gift.

    ---

    The next day, Harry prepared a detailed shopping list before heading out.

    In addition to gifts for professors and friends, he needed ingredients for potions like Aging Potion, along with clothing suited for an older appearance.

    The Aging Potion was a concoction that temporarily made the drinker appear older, depending on the dosage consumed¡ªa crucial element in Harry¡¯s uing ns.

    Appearing older would grant him greater freedom and allow him to explore Knockturn Alley without drawing suspicion.

    After all, Knockturn Alley was like an underground ck market. An eleven-year-old wandering there without supervision would raise more than a few eyebrows.

    Moreover, Knockturn Alley was home to rare items unavable elsewhere, such as seeds for biting cabbages.

    Though Harry wasn¡¯t one to shy away from danger, his friends¡¯ influence had taught him the value of caution. Stocking up on biting cabbages seemed like a prudent way topensate for his currentck ofbat experience.

    After arriving at the Leaky Cauldron, Mr. Granger arranged to meet them in the afternoon before hurrying off to the bank.

    Harry and Ron strolled through Diagon Alley, checking off items on their shopping list.

    To Harry¡¯s surprise, Zonko¡¯s Joke Shop was selling Aging Potion, albeit at a price several times higher than the cost of the raw ingredients.

    Gritting his teeth, Harry bought the potion along with a pile of joke items, deliberately hiding the potion among the other goods to avoid attracting attention.

    Afterward, Harry led Ron to Ollivander¡¯s wand shop.

    The shop was eerily quiet, now in its off-season. Harry called out a few times before Mr. Ollivander appeared from the back room.

    ¡°It¡¯s rare to see young wizards here at this time of year,¡± Mr. Ollivander remarked, stepping forward. His expression brightened when he saw Harry. ¡°Ah, Mr. Potter. We meet again.¡±

    ¡°Hello, Mr. Ollivander,¡± Harry said, pulling Ron forward. ¡°This is my friend Ron. I¡¯d like to buy him a wand as a Christmas gift.¡±

    Mr. Ollivander turned his gaze to Ron, who shifted uneasily and lowered his head.

    ¡°The youngest Weasley boy, I presume?¡± Mr. Ollivander said with a knowing smile. He gestured for Ron¡¯s wand. ¡°May I see the wand you¡¯re currently using?¡±

    Ron hesitated before handing over his older brother Charlie¡¯s wand.

    Examining it closely, Mr. Ollivander nodded. ¡°Ah, yes¡ªpear wood, unicorn hair, twelve inches. Let me guess, Mr. Weasley: you¡¯ve been encountering significant resistance while casting spells, haven¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Ron admitted nervously.

    ¡°That¡¯s to be expected. Unicorn hair cores produce the most stable magic, rarely experiencing surges or blockages,¡± Mr. Ollivander exined. ¡°However, they are also the most loyal of wand cores and remain deeply bonded to their original owners.¡±@@novelbin@@

    ¡°If you weren¡¯t the brother of this wand¡¯s first owner, the resistance would be even more pronounced,¡± he continued, before smiling at Harry. ¡°Mr. Potter, your thoughtfulness is impable. A proper wand will significantly improve Mr. Weasley¡¯s progress with spells.¡±

    Hearing this, Ron finally understood the true depth of Harry¡¯s gesture.

    ¡°Thank you, Harry,¡± Ron said sincerely.

    ¡°We¡¯re best friends, aren¡¯t we?¡± Harry replied with a grin.

    Mr. Ollivander measured Ron and selected several wands for him to try.

    After a few unsessful attempts, Ron finally held a wand that emitted a brilliant glow.

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s the one!¡± Mr. Ollivander eximed. ¡°Willow wood, unicorn hair, fourteen inches. Give it a try.¡±

    Ron cast, ¡°Expelliarmus!¡±

    A red beam struck a stone in the shop with a resounding thud.

    ¡°Brilliant...¡± Ron murmured, staring at his new wand in awe.

    Harry was delighted for his friend. After paying seven Galleons, they left the shop together.

    ¡°Let¡¯s grab lunch,¡± Harry suggested, discreetly tucking the bottle of Aging Potion into his pocket.

    They headed to a French restaurant¡ªa favorite among wizards seeking fine dining¡ªand chose a quiet corner.

    Midway through the meal, Harry excused himself.

    In the restroom, he drank the Aging Potion and transformed into a neen-year-old.

    After changing into the clothes he had prepared, Harry left the restaurant unnoticed and made his way to Knockturn Alley.

    The grimy, decrepit streets were filled with broken cobblestones, filthy walls, and gaunt, sinister wizards lurking in the shadows.

    Harry quickly caught their attention but strode forward with purpose.

    Turning into a narrow alley, he was soon confronted by a toothy wizard with a menacing grin.

    ¡°Boy, you don¡¯t belong here,¡± the man sneered. ¡°Hand over your money, and I might let you walk out of here unharmed.¡±

    Harry smiled coldly.

    Since you¡¯vee to me, don¡¯t me me for what happens next, he thought.

    Locking eyes with the man, Harry whispered, ¡°Imperio.¡±

    <strong>---</strong>

    <strong>you can read more advance chapter & Fast update on mypatreon</strong>

 Chapter 62: Old Ancestor Cassandra and the Bottle of Felix Felicis

    <strong>Cassandra Malfoy?</strong>

    Draco recalled the ancestor his father had mentioned just days ago.

    Wait, didn¡¯t she disappear?

    ¡°Are you really Cassandra?¡± Draco scribbled in the notebook.

    ¡°Yes.¡± The delicate handwriting reappeared.

    ¡°But¡­ why?¡± Draco wrote, his confusion evident. ¡°Why are you suddenlymunicating with me through this notebook? Did you use some sort of dark magic to create it?¡±

    ¡°Magic is full of wonders, isn¡¯t it?¡± the elegant handwriting replied.

    Beneath that line, two more sentences quickly appeared: <em>¡°Why don¡¯t you tell me about yourself, my descendant? What is your rtionship with Abraxas?¡±</em>

    ¡°He was my grandfather. He¡¯s already passed away,¡± Draco responded.

    It took a moment for his words to vanish. Then he waited, bing slightly impatient, until the graceful script returned.

    ¡°Oh, how unexpected... Time is truly merciless. When I left home, Abraxas was just a little boy.¡±

    Seeing the text fade, Draco eagerly wrote, ¡°So you really are my ancestor! I¡¯ve heard so much about your heroic deeds from a century ago¡ªquelling the goblin rebellion, defeating the Ash Snake cult¡ªbut Father never told me the details. Can you share them? I¡¯m very eager to know about the glory of my ancestors.¡±

    <em>What a child so obsessed with family prestige¡­</em>

    The notebook stayed silent for a while before finally responding.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, my descendant. This notebook is merely for recording magical insights; it cannot fulfill your wish.¡±

    Draco felt a twinge of disappointment, but his attention was quickly captured by the phrase ¡°magical insights.¡±

    ¡°Magical insights?¡± Draco wrote hastily. ¡°Can you teach me, Ancestor? I know you were one of the most outstanding witches at Hogwarts in your time. With your guidance, I¡¯m sure I can defeat Harry Potter!¡±

    ¡°Very well, my descendant.¡± The notebook agreed surprisingly readily. ¡°If you¡¯re serious about learning magic with me, defeating any ssmate at Hogwarts will be a breeze.¡±

    Draco was ecstatic, nearly jumping three feet in the air.

    In his mind, he was already imagining what it would be like to defeat Harry Potter and dominate Slytherin.

    ¡°But¡­¡±

    Draco¡¯s daydreaming was interrupted by new words appearing on the notebook.

    ¡°You must follow my instructions. First and foremost, you must keep this a secret. If anyone covets this notebook and steals it from you, I won¡¯t be able to teach you magic.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Ancestor,¡± Draco pledged solemnly.

    ¡°Also, I¡¯ve left a few trinkets hidden in Hogwarts. If you help me find them, I¡¯ll dly share them with you,¡± the handwriting continued.

    ¡°Trinkets?¡± Draco was clearly uninterested. ¡°It¡¯s been a hundred years, Ancestor. I doubt your belongings have remained intact.¡±

    ¡°You cannot imagine the secrets of Hogwarts, my descendant,¡± the notebook replied. ¡°The ce where I stored them is absolutely inessible to others.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s worth the risk. After all¡­¡±

    Draco¡¯s sentence vanished before he could finish writing.

    It was reced by the delicate script:

    ¡°Rest assured, my descendant. Aren¡¯t you curious about the Merlin Relic stored in that chamber?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s its use?¡± Draco asked, now intrigued.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you wonder why my magical prowess was so extraordinary?¡± the handwriting countered.

    Draco¡¯s thoughts quickly connected the dots based on the mention of the Merlin Relic.

    ¡°Could it be because of that Merlin Relic?!¡± Draco wrote hurriedly and sloppily.

    ¡°Yes, child,¡± the notebook replied.

    ¡°It was thanks to this item that I possessed magical abilities far beyond my peers.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll help you, Ancestor.¡± Draco¡¯s expression turned solemn as he resolved to fulfill this wish.

    What he failed to notice was that as he conversed with the notebook, a faint magical force was slowly, almost imperceptibly, flowing from his hand into his brain.

    ---

    Hogwarts during Christmas was quieter than usual, but it didn¡¯t feel any less lively.

    Under the guidance of Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick, the students began decorating the Great Hall with Christmas ornaments.

    The group of students staying at the castle bustled about, adding a festive cheer to the atmosphere.

    The Weasley twins were busy teasing Percy, joking that the ¡°P¡± on his sweater stood for ¡°Prefect¡± rather than Percy. This prompted Percy to chase them with a book, attempting to swat them.

    ¡°You¡¯re not allowed to hang out with the prefects today!¡± Fred yelled while running, ¡°You have to spend Christmas with us¡ªfamilyes first, you git!¡±

    ¡°Ah, youth¡­¡± Dumbledore mused from the high table, a bright floral bo perched on his head.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure Dumbledore¡¯s gay,¡± Ron whispered to Harry. ¡°Look at that floral hat¡­ seriously.¡±

    ¡°No way!¡± Harry scratched his head. ¡°You can¡¯t just say that because he¡¯s wearing a bo. Maybe he¡¯s just into cross-dressing? And even if he is gay, who could someone as brilliant as him possibly fall for?¡±

    Ron didn¡¯t respond, merely shrugging. His earlierment was more a mix of intuition and yful banter.

    Nearby, his rat, Scabbers, was busy burying its head in the Christmas feast, indulging to its heart¡¯s content.

    ¡°Speaking of which, mate,¡± Ron said, shifting topics, ¡°why don¡¯t we have a snowball fight after dinner? Fred and George just invited me, and they insisted you join too.¡±

    ¡°I think we have more important things to do, Ron,¡± Harry said in a low voice. ¡°Now that I¡¯ve got this invisibility cloak, why not explore the castle?¡±

    ¡°Great idea!¡± Ron¡¯s face lit up before quickly falling. ¡°But the cloak only fits one person. I can¡¯te with you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Ron. I don¡¯t need a cloak to turn invisible,¡± Harry said with a grin.@@novelbin@@

    Now morefortable in his eleven-year-old body, Harry¡¯s magic had improved to the point where he could cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself without ws.

    Before Ron could reply, Hedwig swooped in, hooting softly as she flew into the hall.

    ¡°It¡¯s Hedwig,¡± Ron said. ¡°No wonder I haven¡¯t seen her around¡ªI thought you¡¯d forgotten about her.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s probably delivering something.¡± Harry extended his hand, catching the small gift box Hedwig dropped as she soared down.

    ¡°Is it a Christmas present? Who¡¯s it from?¡± Ron asked, leaning in curiously.

    Harry picked up the little box, noting the absence of any tag or note.

    ¡°No name,¡± he said with a shrug.

    Opening the gift, he found a small, crystal-clear vial inside.

    ¡°Well, I think I know who sent this,¡± Harry said immediately.

    He recognized the contents of the gift right away¡ªit was a small bottle of Felix Felicis.

    <strong>---</strong>

    <strong>you can read more advance chapter & Fast update on mypatreon</strong>

 Chapter 65: Grindelwald: â€œDo You Think My Sister Would Mourn for You?â€

    ¡°Mate?¡±

    Ron watched his brothers disappear down the corridor, still horsing around like usual. Turning back, he noticed his best friend looking unusually pensive.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Ron asked, walking over, his voice tinged with concern.

    ¡°Nothing.¡± Harry shook his head and handed Ron a letter. ¡°Just feeling a bit sentimental, I guess.¡±

    Ron skimmed the letter quickly, then hastily handed it back. ¡°Mate, you¡¯re getting way too into this,¡± he said, pping Harry on the shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s an old feud between Harry Potter and Malfoy from over a century ago. What¡¯s it got to do with you?¡±

    ¡°But,¡± Ron added, tilting his head thoughtfully, ¡°if I were you, instead of worrying about how Malfoy didn¡¯t bother researching time magic for that Potter, I¡¯d be more concerned about something else.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Well, Miss Grindelwald, for one,¡± Ron replied, making a circr motion with his hand. ¡°Think about it¡ªwhat if her brother turns out to be <em>that</em> Grindelwald? You know, the dark wizard Dumbledore defeated. What would you do then?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s it got to do with me?¡± Harry asked, clearly puzzled.

    ¡°It¡¯s got <em>everything</em> to do with you!¡± Ron groaned, clutching Harry¡¯s shoulder with mock sympathy. ¡°Picture this: a dark wizard with a grudge finds out his sister left their family for someone named Harry Potter. And guess what, mate? You¡¯re also named Harry Potter¡­¡±

    ¡°And then?¡± Harry still couldn¡¯t follow Ron¡¯s logic.

    ¡°By Merlin¡¯s beard!¡± Ron groaned theatrically, throwing up his hands. ¡°He¡¯d probably show up and say something like, ¡®Mr. Potter, do you think my sister would mourn you?¡¯ Then¡ªbam!¡ªhe curses you on the spot. He wouldn¡¯t care which Harry Potter you are, as long as he gets one to vent his anger.¡±

    The idea sent a shiver down Harry¡¯s spine.

    Even if Ron¡¯s theory sounded ridiculous, Harry couldn¡¯t ignore the memory of his visit to Nurmengard in Austria¡ªonce the seat of the Austro-Hungarian Empire¡ªwhere he¡¯d encountered Gellert Grindelwald.

    Sure, Gellert had seemed harmless at the time, like a grumpy parrot incapable of casting magic, with a face you almost wanted to pinch out of sheer frustration. But the hostility in his eyes had been unmistakable, especially when Veratia wiped a smudge of cream off Harry¡¯s nose. The way Gellert had red could¡¯ve burned a hole through steel.

    They say the child is father to the man. Judging by Gellert¡¯s attitude back then, Harry had no doubt that the adult version was equally dangerous. And considering Veratia¡¯s considerable magical prowess, her brother was unlikely to be a slouch.

    After a century of refining his skills, who knew what heights of power Gellert had reached?

    Harry knew one thing for certain: in his current state, he wouldn¡¯t stand a chance.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a point,¡± Harry admitted, slipping the letter and notebook back into his pocket. He nced at Ron. ¡°Let¡¯s search the Room of Requirement again, just to be sure.¡±

    Ron¡¯s insight had sparked a thought: the Room of Requirement could take countless forms. Maybe their friends¡¯ belongings weren¡¯t in the meeting-room version they¡¯d been using.@@novelbin@@

    As Harry began to search, Ron tilted his head. ¡°Harry? What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Looking for more letters or clues,¡± Harry replied without looking up. ¡°I want to know more about that Harry Potter. He seemed¡­ extraordinary. I¡¯d like to understand the man I share a name with.¡±

    Fortunately, Harry kept his head down, sparing Ron from seeing the awkward smile that crept across his face as he inadvertentlyplimented himself.

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Ron shrugged. ¡°My great-grandfather Gareth was mates with him, too. Makes sense we¡¯d be curious.¡±

    Despite their efforts, they found nothing new.

    Left with no other options, Harry and Ron left the Room of Requirement, disappointment trailing behind them. It was gettingte, after all.

    As they walked, Harry¡¯s thoughts drifted.

    <em>Cassandra¡­</em>

    Rationally, he understood why she¡¯d stopped searching for him. Emotionally, though, it still stung.

    <em>Maybe it¡¯s for the best,</em> Harry thought, shaking his head in an attempt to dispel the mncholy.

    Lost in thought, he bumped into Ron.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Harry asked quietly.

    ¡°Harry, look over there,¡± Ron whispered.

    Harry raised his head. Without his Invisibility Cloak, he¡¯d cast a Disillusionment Charm instead. In a nearby abandoned ssroom stood a lone mirror.

    <em>Strange,</em> Harry thought. <em>That wasn¡¯t there before.</em>

    ¡°Want to check it out?¡± Ron asked.

    ¡°No,¡± Harry replied, a deep unease settling in his chest. ¡°Let¡¯s head back.¡±

    ¡°Alright,¡± Ron said reluctantly, turning to leave.

    Unbeknownst to them, Dumbledore watched from the shadows, his sharp eyes glinting behind his half-moon spectacles.

    When Ron noticed the mirror, Dumbledore had straightened slightly, a flicker of anticipation shing across his face. But when the two boys turned away, he sighed softly.

    With a wave of his hand, he transfigured a nearby statue into a ck-robed figure with greasy hair¡ªa near-perfect likeness of Severus Snape.

    <em>Young wizards are always terrified of Severus,</em> Dumbledore mused, directing the statue toward Harry and Ron, hoping to nudge them toward the mirror.

    Under the dim light, the figure¡¯s silhouette loomed ominously.

    ¡°Harry, it¡¯s Snape!¡± Ron whispered urgently. ¡°We¡¯re done for if he catches us! Quick, let¡¯s hide in that ssroom!¡±

    Harry frowned. Something wasn¡¯t right.

    Snape¡¯s sudden appearance was too coincidental, too out of character. After countless detentions, Harry knew Snape¡¯s routines like the back of his hand. At this hour, Snape should¡¯ve been in his office, painstakingly sorting potion ingredients. Roaming the sixth floor wasn¡¯t his style.

    <em>Could this have something to do with the mirror?</em>

    ¡°No,¡± Harry whispered. ¡°Stay here. He won¡¯t notice us.¡±

    Ron obeyed, pressing himself against the wall as Harry instructed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t make a sound,¡± Harry murmured. ¡°We¡¯ll leave once he¡¯s gone.¡±

    Dumbledore, observing from his hiding spot, felt a mix of pride and exasperation. The boys¡¯ caution wasmendable, but their refusal to investigate the mirror was frustrating.

    <em>No matter,</em> he thought. <em>ns can change.</em>

    Dumbledore directed the Snape-like statue closer, its presence growing more imposing with each step.

    Sensing danger, Harry quietly drew his wand, pointing it at the advancing figure.

    Dumbledore: <em>¡­What?!</em>

    <strong>---</strong>

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 Chapter 67: Teaching the Headmaster

    "Also, Professor," Harry turned toward Dumbledore''s long beard, "I don''t think it''s a wise decision to keep the Mirror of Erised here. I''m not convinced that other Hogwarts students have the same level of self-control as Ron to resist the illusory temptation it offers."

    Ron, initially uneasy after being caught by Dumbledore, raised his head, his eyes sparkling as he looked at Harry.

    "If a young wizard bes obsessed with the illusions they see and can''t¡ªor won''t¡ªept that it''s just fantasy, it won''t just be Hogwarts that suffers," Harry added.

    From the moment Dumbledore appeared, Harry had already connected the dots in his mind.

    This was undoubtedly a setup by Dumbledore, specifically designed to lure him to the Mirror of Erised.

    But why? What was the purpose of this? Harry pondered for a long time but couldn''t figure it out.

    Dumbledore suddenly felt a bit choked up. These were words he had nned to use to lecture Harry.

    But now? How had things flipped so that Harry was using them to lecture him instead?

    He looked at Harry and found the boy meeting his gaze steadily.

    The young man radiated like the sun at seven or eight in the morning¡ªbright but not blinding, exuding an unyielding righteousness.

    Perhaps I was overthinking this, Dumbledore mused.

    A child like this must be truly extraordinary.

    "I have to admit, you''re absolutely right, Harry," Dumbledore said with a warm smile. "I''ll have someone remove the mirrorter tonight."

    "Very well, Professor. Then Ron and I won''t disturb your rest any further," Harry said, pulling Ron along. "Goodnight, Professor Dumbledore."

    "By the way," Ron suddenly asked, "Professor Dumbledore, what do <em>you</em>see in the mirror?"

    Dumbledore paused, then smiled. "Me? Hmm, much the same as Harry¡ªwoolen socks."

    ---

    The two boys hurried back to the Gryffindormon room. After the Fat Lady confirmed the password, Ron sighed in relief.

    "Merlin, I thought Dumbledore was going to dock points from us. I can''t believe he let us off so easily," Ron said, dropping onto a chair and carefully folding the Invisibility Cloak.

    Harry raised an eyebrow. "Maybe he just forgot. Let''s get some rest."

    Lying in bed that night, Harry couldn''t shake the question of why Dumbledore had ced the Mirror of Erised there, seemingly baiting him to approach it.

    He doubted it was mere curiosity on Dumbledore''s part to see what the "Boy Who Lived" desired most.

    He decided to keep the matter in mind and discuss it with Hermione once she returned.

    ---

    The day before the holiday ended, Hermione finally came back to school.

    After hearing Harry''s analysis, Hermione offered a different perspective.

    "I don''t think Professor Dumbledore means you any harm," she began. "He''s the greatest white wizard of our time. If he had any intentions toward you, it might simply be to test your character¡ªlike whether you''d be obsessed with the Mirror of Erised."

    "I agree with Hermione," Ron said, raising his hand. "But Harry''s concerns aren''t unfounded either. Could it be that you''re performing so well that he suspects you''vee into contact with some dark magical artifact?"

    "Hard to say." Harry idly spun a fountain pen in his hand. Perhaps he was too forceful, as a streak of blue ink flicked from the pen''s nib and sttered onto Draco Malfoy''s face as he passed by.

    "Sorry," Harry said to Draco.

    Draco shot Harry a cold, venomous look, wiped his cheek, and continued walking without a word.

    "What''s going on?" Ron whispered. "That''s not like him. The old Draco would have been yelling, ''I''ll tell my father!'' by now."

    "Have you noticed that he looks even paler than before the holiday?" Hermione leaned closer to the table, nearly lying on it. "Honestly, his eyes just now gave me the creeps¡ªlike a snake''s. It was unsettling."

    Harry didn''t pay it much mind. After all, Draco hadn''t said anything, and besides, Harry was the one who sttered ink on him first.

    When Draco sat at the Slytherin table, Pansy let out a gasp.

    "My goodness, Draco, what happened to you?"

    She took out a handkerchief and walked over to wipe his face with concern.

    Draco allowed Pansy to clean his cheek but felt increasingly irritable.

    Later, back in the Slytherinmon room, Draco sat in a secluded corner, instructing Crabbe and Goyle to stand guard and keep others away.

    He opened a notebook, dipped his quill in ink, and wrote:

    <em>Ancestor, you once said you''d teach me some spells to deal with that insufferable Potter. Just now, he even dared to flick ink onto my face. Now that we''re back at school, I hope you''ll keep your promise.</em>

    Momentster, elegant handwriting appeared on the notebook''s pages.

    <em>"Rx, my descendant. The great me never deceives a child like you..."</em>

    <em>But I can''t wait anymore! I want to curse that wretched Potter''s face right now!</em>Draco wrote in agitation, not even understanding his own emotions.

    After writing that, Draco felt a brief moment of confusion.

    What''s wrong with me?

    But he couldn''t dwell on it. Another faint wave of magic passed from the notebook.

    Draco''s agitated emotions surged again, brushing aside his doubts.

    Along with them, his patience with the notebook wore thin.

    At home, the notebook had continually dyed, saying it would teach him spells only once he returned to school.

    Now they were back, yet the notebook still showed no intention of teaching him anything. Draco was losing his patience.

    <em>"If you wish to defeat Harry Potter, I have a suggestion for you."</em>

    The notebook''s words were enticing.

    Consumed by emotion, Draco waspletely captivated. He gritted his teeth and wrote, <em>"What is it? Just tell me."</em>

    Elegant handwriting surfaced on the page.

    <em>"Have you ever heard of the ''Heir of Slytherin''?"</em>

    <em>"The Heir of Slytherin?"</em>Draco wrote back, confused.@@novelbin@@

    <em>"Yes, my descendant,"</em>the notebook replied. <em>"A friend of mine is the Heir of Slytherin. Through him, I learned of an absolutely safe, absolutely secret location. My Merlin''s treasure is hidden there..."</em>

    At this, the writing faded entirely.

    Before Draco could respond, new writing appeared.

    But this time, the script was no longer elegant¡ªit was jagged and erratic.

    <em>"Do you... want to know?"</em>

    <strong>---</strong>

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 Chapter 70: Potter Is Our King

    To be honest, Filch wasn¡¯t a likable person. Even Hagrid, known for his kind-hearted nature, would show clear disgust whenever Filch was mentioned.

    And now, seeing Filch¡¯s repulsive face charging at him, Harry couldn¡¯t help but be reminded of Uncle Vernon.

    But Uncle Vernon was different¡ªat least he was technically family and had, begrudgingly, fed Harry. Filch, on the other hand? Besides being obnoxious, he had done absolutely nothing for him.

    Theparison only fueled Harry¡¯s anger further.

    <em>using me of petrifying your cat?</em>

    If I were truly just a first-year student, maybe I would desperately try to prove my innocence.

    But now?

    <em>Even if I did petrify your cat, what could you possibly do about it?</em>

    ¡°Depulso!¡± Harry pointed his wand at Filch. A jet of light shot out from its tip, striking the charging caretaker.

    Filch flew backward as if he had been hit by a speeding truck,nding with a resounding thud.

    ¡°Ahhh!¡± Filch screamed, his limbs iling helplessly in mid-air.

    ¡°Harry!¡±

    Dumbledore¡¯s urgent voice rang out from the entrance hall.

    At the same time, a soft cushion appeared behind Filch, breaking his fall and preventing any serious injuries.

    But before Filch could say another word, Harry had already cast another spell.

    ¡°Petrificus Totalus!¡±

    Filch¡¯s body stiffened immediately, freezing in an awkward position on the cushion.@@novelbin@@

    At that moment, students began spilling out of the Great Hall, just in time to witness the scene.

    ¡°Potter is our king!¡± The Weasley twins were the first to cheer, their voices carrying through the crowd.

    Filch¡¯s unpoprity was well-known. His office ceiling was adorned with polished iron chains and shackles, kept ready for the day he might be allowed to punish unruly students¡ªa task he openly relished.

    He would even use those chains to intimidate students, scaring many into submission and forcing them to do dirty or tedious tasks for him.

    Now, Harry had publicly humiliated Filch outside the Great Hall, in front of the entire school, including Headmaster Dumbledore. How could the students not be thrilled?

    The crowd erupted into cheers, especially the Gryffindors, who had suffered the most under Filch¡¯s threats and detentions.

    Even the Slytherins didn¡¯t apud, but their gazes betrayed a mix of admiration and approval.

    <em>What a badass.</em>

    ¡°Potter!¡±

    Professor McGonagall¡¯s stern voice cut through the chaos. She marched up to Harry, her expression thunderous. ¡°Mr. Potter! What on earth is going on? How dare you¡ªhow dare you attack the castle¡¯s caretaker!¡±

    ¡°Professor McGonagall.¡±

    Despite his anger, Harry maintained hisposure, his tone polite. ¡°I believe, Professor, that you should withhold judgment until you understand the full context of the situation.¡±

    McGonagall¡¯s lips twitched, and she let out a quiet sigh of exasperation.

    <em>This boy¡­ he¡¯s just like James!</em>

    Attacking the castle¡¯s caretaker in front of the entire school, the staff, and the headmaster¡­

    The impact of this incident was disastrous!

    Even James wouldn¡¯t have dared to go this far¡ªat most, he would¡¯ve cast a harmless prank spell on a fellow student.

    If not for Albus¡¯s timely intervention, Filch might have ended up in the hospital wing for months!

    ¡°A remarkablebination of spells! Impressive dueling skills!¡±

    A sharp voice broke through the crowd.

    Harry turned toward the speaker¡ªit was Professor Flitwick, the head of Ravenw.

    Standing on his tiptoes, Flitwick raised a hand so high it seemed like he wanted to touch the ceiling, giving Harry a big thumbs-up.

    Professor Sprout discreetly pulled Flitwick back down, clearly thinking this was not the appropriate time for praise.

    ¡°Oh, Filius, perhaps now isn¡¯t the best time to beplimenting Mr. Potter,¡± McGonagall said, pulling out her wand to undo the spell on Filch.

    A sh of red lightter, Filch regained his mobility and struggled to his feet.

    Despite the fear still etched on his face, Filch¡¯s anger over Mrs. Norris¡¯s fate pushed him to point a trembling finger at Harry. ¡°This Potter! This Potter killed my Mrs. Norris! He even hung her on the wall! I¡¯ll kill him! I¡¯ll kill him!¡±

    ¡°You see?¡± Harry said calmly, his voice steady. ¡°He threatened to kill me first and even tried to act on it by charging at me. Surely, Professor, anyone would react under such circumstances?¡±

    The boy stood tall, elegant, powerful, and poised. Though only eleven, he exuded a presence that demanded respect.

    <em>He should¡¯ve been in Slytherin,</em>thought Slytherin prefect Miss Farley, a pang of regret crossing her mind.

    McGonagall¡¯s stern expression softened slightly as she asked again, ¡°Then what about the cat? Is Filch falsely using you?¡±

    Harry was a bit surprised. Was the famously fair and impartial Professor McGonagall showing favoritism?

    Her question practically implied she believed Harry might be innocent.

    ¡°He¡¯s right here!¡± Filch roared, his sagging face turning a deep shade of purple. ¡°He¡¯s the only one who could¡¯ve been at the scene of the crime! Why weren¡¯t you in the Great Hall? What were you doing out here? Exin yourself!¡±

    ¡°So what if I did it? What can you do about it?¡± Harry crossed his arms, his gaze cold as he stared Filch down. ¡°Not only did I petrify your cat, but I also petrified you in front of the entire school¡ª¡±

    Gasps rippled through the crowd. No one had expected Harry to be so brazen, openly admitting to his actions and even threatening Filch in front of the professors and the headmaster.

    ¡°Allow me to exin.¡±

    A greasy, drawn-out voice interrupted the tension.

    ¡°I can vouch for Mr. Potter,¡± said Professor Snape, gliding toward the scene like a shadow. ¡°He was in my Potions office brewing potions just moments ago. I believe this is a case of him being in the wrong ce at the wrong time. We must not wrongfully use an innocent student.¡±

    Harry turned, about to thank him, but Snape wasn¡¯t finished.

    ¡°However,¡± Snape continued, his tone shifting, ¡°we also cannot overlook any wrongdoing. Attacking the castle¡¯s caretaker, especially so publicly, is uneptable. As such, I believe Gryffindor should lose fifty points as a penalty.¡±

    Harry raised his head just in time to catch the smirk tugging at Snape¡¯s lips.

    It was clear¡ªno matter which Gryffindor broke the rules, Snape would always be there to gleefully deduct points.

    <strong>---</strong>

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 Chapter 73: Crossdressing, But Itâ€™s Tom Riddle

    Draco sat restlessly, his anxiety palpable. He had no idea how his ancestor intended to absorb power.

    "Crabbe, I feel so hungry," Goyle muttered, rubbing his stomach.

    "Me too, Goyle," Crabbe echoed, also clutching his belly. "But didn¡¯t we just eat a ton of food earlier?"

    Draco cast them a disdainful nce. Suddenly, a thought struck him.

    Hungry?

    Could it be that his ancestor had already absorbed the energy?

    "Alright, you two," Draco said to them. "Give me the notebook and go get something to eat."

    "Okay, boss." The two of them obediently handed him the notebook and eagerly headed for the door.

    "Move, you''re blocking the way!" Crabbe said, shoving Goyle, who was stuck in the doorway. With their equally bulky builds, squeezing through together was impossible.

    "Who¡¯s blocking who?" Goyle grumbled as he stepped back. "You go first!"

    Once they had shut the door and their footsteps faded, Draco wasted no time grabbing the notebook. cing it on the desk, he wrote, <em>Ancestor, how about it? Was it enough?</em>

    A golden shimmer shed across the notebook, and delicate golden handwriting appeared:

    <em>¡°It¡¯s done, my child. Step aside.¡±</em>

    Obediently, Draco moved away, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on the notebook.@@novelbin@@

    Momentster, another sh of light erupted from the notebook, so brilliant it forced Draco to shield his eyes.

    When he reopened them, a translucent woman with long ck hair and an ethereal beauty stood before him.

    The girl had soft features and eyes of pale crimson, like the rarest rubies in the world.

    "An¡­Ancestor?" Draco stammered, staring at the stunning girl before him. For reasons unknown, his heart began pounding erratically, like a rabbit in his chest.

    The ethereal girl lightly ran her thumb across her throat, tilting her head slightly. She gazed at the dazed Draco with her captivating crimson eyes, her lips curling into a bewitching smile.

    <em>Her smile is so beautiful,</em>Draco thought, before shaking his head violently to dispel the inappropriate notion.

    No, Draco! This is your ancestor! How could you have such disrespectful thoughts?

    Wait¡­ancestor?

    Suddenly doubtful, Draco raised his head again to confirm. Then he asked hesitantly, "Ancestor, why is your hair ck?"

    "Ah¡­" The girl stroked her long hair and exined casually, "It¡¯s because of the dark magic I used to create this notebook, child."

    "I see¡­" Draco nodded, his confusion clearing.

    The girl continued, "However, I think I should go by a new name. After all, Dumbledore isn¡¯t unfamiliar with the name <em>Cassandra Malfoy.</em>You should know he was already at Hogwarts during my seventh year. You may call me <em>Merope.</em>"

    <em>Merope?</em>Draco mused. What a beautiful name.

    Merope beckoned with a finger, and the notebook''s gilded "C.C. Malfoy" shifted to "Draco Malfoy."

    "This is our little secret. From now on, this notebook is yours." Merope extended a finger toward Draco, her voice soft and alluring. "But¡­since you helped me, it¡¯s time I rewarded you."

    "What kind of reward?" Draco asked eagerly.

    Merope stepped forward and pressed her hand to his forehead.

    Draco felt a strange energy flow into his body, spreading to every corner of his being. Even his recent fatigue seemed to vanish, leaving him feeling as strong as a bull.

    "Take up your wand," Merope said, tilting her chin slightly.

    Draco obeyed, grasping his wand tightly and looking up at her.

    "Like this," Merope instructed, demonstrating a sharp flick and a horizontal sh. "Imagine stunning your opponent. One flick, one sh¡­<em>Stupefy!</em>"

    Draco mimicked her movements, visualizing the spell as she described. Flick, sh¡­

    "<em>Stupefy!</em>" he shouted, aiming his wand at a chair in front of him.

    A beam of light shot from his wand, striking the chair and reducing it to splinters.

    Draco stared, wide-eyed, at the wreckage, then at the wand in his hand, disbelief written across his face.

    <em>Was that¡­my spell?</em>

    "Good children receive rewards, Draco," Merope said, smiling softly. "I borrowed a bit of energy from your two followers and channeled it to you aspensation. As you can see, your improvement is evident."

    "Merope¡­" Tears welled in Draco¡¯s eyes.

    After witnessing Potter and Miss Farley¡¯s duel, he had sunk into despair, convinced he would never stand a chance against Potter.

    That despair had gnawed at him like an Inferius feasting on his soul, leaving him utterly dejected.

    But now, Merope had reignited his hope.

    If this continued, perhaps¡­

    "My child," Merope interrupted, leaning close to his ear, her voice low and persuasive.

    "Maybe¡­you could introduce me to your trusted Slytherin ssmates."

    "What?" Draco blinked, startled.

    "I can help them with their questions, even guide them in spell practice," Merope continued, her tone as smooth as silk. "All they need to offer is a small portion of their energy to sustain me. And of course, as my precious child and loyal introducer, I would reward you with a share of their energy."

    "Merope, I¡­" Draco stammered, hesitant.

    "What¡¯s the matter? Don¡¯t you want to?" Merope didn¡¯t seem angry; she simply smiled demurely.

    Yet that smile never quite reached her ruby-red eyes.

    "No¡­no, you need that energy more than I do," Draco hurriedly waved his hands, terrified of misunderstanding. "Compared to that, I¡¯d much rather you¡ª"

    "Be good, Draco." Merope¡¯s expression softened into satisfaction. "As my most treasured child, how could you lose to anyone? Only by mastering great power can you bettermand your subordinates¡­ And the ssmates you bring me will be your most loyal followers."

    Draco¡¯s voice quivered with gratitude. "Thank you, Merope. You¡¯re so kind. You¡¯re truly a wonderful person."

    "Go now, my child," Merope said, leaningzily against the desk. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Bring me just two more people, and once I¡¯ve replenished my energy, we can visit the Chamber of Secrets together¡ª"

    "I¡¯ll go right away!" Draco eximed, bolting from the room.

    As she watched him leave, Merope¡¯s eyes gleamed with a trace of triumph.

    What she hadn¡¯t told Draco was that the power she had granted him wasn¡¯t permanent.

    But still...

    Hmph...

    Voldemort...

    Why shouldn¡¯t <em>I</em>be the main soul?

    <strong>---</strong>

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 Chapter 77: A Pain Like Drilling into the Bone

    ¡°Blinding?¡±

    Hagrid and Harry both tilted their heads back, scanning the sky for Mars.

    As Ronan had mentioned, it wasn¡¯t difficult to find¡ªa star so unnaturally bright it dominated the heavens.

    ¡°It really is ring,¡± Hagrid remarked, squinting at the celestial body before turning back to the centaur. ¡°Have you seen anything strange around heretely? A unicorn¡¯s been injured¡ªdo you know anything about it?¡±

    Ronan didn¡¯t respond directly. Instead, he spoke in the same enigmatic tone: ¡°Mars is particrly bright tonight.¡±

    Hagrid sighed heavily, giving Harry¡¯s shoulder a gentle pat. ¡°See what I mean? That¡¯s centaurs for you. Never give a straight answer¡ªalways got their eyes on the stars. Frustrating, isn¡¯t it? You ask about a unicorn, and they¡¯ll talk about Mars instead. They never just say what they mean¡­¡±

    Riddlers, huh?@@novelbin@@

    Harry hadn¡¯t spent much time conversing with centaurs; his interactions with them had been more...bative. He could still hear the echoes of their anguished screams from before.

    There had been a time when he¡¯d wondered if Veratia might¡¯ve taken things too far. But now?

    They deserved it.

    This is the punishment riddlers earn!

    ¡°Still, their hearts are in the right ce,¡± Hagrid continued, a faint chuckle in his voice. ¡°They may not be straightforward, but they care about this forest and all its creatures. Anyway, let¡¯s keep moving.¡±

    Leaving Ronan behind, who remained fixated on the stars, they continued their search.

    ¡°They remind me of Professor Dumbledore,¡± Harry remarked, nudging a branch out of his way with his foot. ¡°Always speaking in riddles, never saying things outright.¡±

    ¡°Now that you mention it¡­¡± Hagrid nodded thoughtfully, scanning the forest floor. ¡°Look here¡ªunicorn blood, all over the ground. Even on the roots of the trees.¡±

    They pressed forward until they came to a fork in the path.

    Both trails were marked with fresh blood¡ªstreaks and glistening pools suggesting the unicorn hadn¡¯t gone far.

    ¡°We should split up, Hagrid,¡± Harry suggested, his tone firm. ¡°It¡¯s badly injured; if we hurry, we might still save it.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± Hagrid hesitated, torn between his desire to protect Harry and the urgency of finding the unicorn.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me,¡± Harry reassured him. ¡°If anything happens, I¡¯ll send up red sparks.¡±

    Reluctantly, Hagrid nodded. ¡°Alright. But take Fang with you. He may be a coward, but his instincts are sharp.¡±

    Harry nced down at the massive boarhound, skepticism in on his face. <strong>You think it¡¯s like Fiona, our phoenix? That it¡¯ll throw itself in front of a Killing Curse for me?</strong>

    Still, he nodded. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll bring Fang.¡±

    ¡°Be careful,¡± Hagrid urged, gripping his crossbow tightly as he headed down one path. Halfway, he turned back, his brow furrowed with concern. ¡°You¡¯re sure about this? We could stick together.¡±

    ¡°The unicorn doesn¡¯t have much time,¡± Harry replied resolutely.

    Once Hagrid disappeared, Harry tucked his wand back into his robes, pulling out the one he had confiscated earlier.

    With Fang reluctantly in tow, he followed the blood trail deeper into the forest.

    The farther he went, the denser the trees became. Their gnarled branches wove together, blocking out most of the moonlight. The path narrowed, barely navigable.

    The bloodstains grew sparser but more concentrated, pooling in silvery patches on the ground.

    Fang whined nervously, pacing around Harry¡¯s feet and tugging at his robes, as if pleading with him to turn back.

    Harry ignored the dog, his focus unwavering.

    Ahead, the trees gave way to a clearing, their ancient branches twisted into a canopy of shadows.

    A soft, mournful whinny pierced the stillness.

    Pushing through thest of the branches, Harry saw it¡ªa radiant white unicorn, copsed on the ground. Its coat, once pristine, was now stained with blood, and its eyes shimmered with a desperate plea for salvation.

    Harry approached cautiously, keeping an eye on his surroundings. Fang¡¯s incessant whining was grating.

    ¡°Stupefy.¡±

    The stunning spell silenced the dog, leaving it unconscious in a heap.

    As the spell echoed through the forest, a rustling sound came from nearby bushes.

    Harry froze, his wand aimed at the disturbance.

    A momentter, a hooded figure emerged, moving with a serpentine grace that exuded menace.

    It slithered toward the unicorn, its every movement deliberate, radiating an aura of malevolence.

    Reaching the dying creature, the figure bent low, its hood obscuring its face, and began to drink deeply from the unicorn¡¯s wound.

    The unicorn let out a heart-wrenching cry, its body convulsing in agony.

    Pain exploded in Harry¡¯s scar, searing and relentless, as if a brand had been pressed against his forehead. Thest time it had hurt this much was when Sebastian had cast the Killing Curse.

    Clenching his jaw against the pain, Harry raised his wand.

    ¡°Stupefy!¡±

    A jet of red light shot forward, striking the hooded figure and knocking it aside.

    The unicorn¡¯sbored breaths quickened, a faint glimmer of hope returning to its eyes.

    Harry advanced cautiously, his wand trained on the motionless figure.

    But it wasn¡¯t over.

    The figure rose slowly, its silhouette dark and foreboding, like Death itself. Had it held a scythe, the image would have beenplete.

    Harry¡¯s scar throbbed violently, his vision blurring as his grip on the wand faltered.

    The figure surged forward, a blur of shadow and malice.

    A sudden voice¡ªethereal and faint, yet urgent¡ªrang in Harry¡¯s mind: <strong>¡°Run!¡±</strong>

    Ignoring the pain, Harry raised his wand again, his rage overtaking him.

    ¡°Crucio!¡±

    <strong>---</strong>

    <strong>you can read more advance chapter & Fast update on mypatreon</strong>

 Chapter 79: The Magical Animagus

    ¡°Cassandra?¡±

    Harry paused for a moment when he heard the name.

    He shook his head, chuckling self-deprecatingly. ¡°No, I¡¯ve read her letters. She should¡¯ve been long gone by now¡­¡±

    The unicorn let out a low hum and shook its head. ¡°No, that¡¯s unlikely¡­ But apart from Cassandra, isn¡¯t there anyone else you¡¯d like to ask about?¡±@@novelbin@@

    As it spoke, it grabbed Harry¡¯s robes with its mouth, tugging them back and forth yfully.

    ¡°Ha-rry! Ha-rry!¡±

    A sudden realization dawned on Harry.

    I knew it! No wonder this unicorndy felt so familiar!

    I knew it! No wonder she knows so much!

    The familiar gesture and tone instantly reminded him of an old friend.

    Hufflepuff¡¯s Poppy Sweeting!

    Harry gasped, covering his mouth in shock, his trembling hand pointing at the unicorn. ¡°Y-you¡­ you¡¯re Poppy?¡±

    ¡°Took you long enough to figure it out!¡±

    The unicorn¡ªno, Poppy in unicorn form¡ªretracted her horn and began nuzzling her head against Harry¡¯s chest, as if venting her frustration at not being recognized by her old friend.

    ¡°But, how¡­ how did you end up like this?¡± Harry still found it hard to believe.

    Poppy had always been human. How could she now be a unicorn?

    ¡°Animagus,¡± Poppy replied. ¡°Bing a magical Animagus has its price¡­ but honestly, I don¡¯t mind. This way, I can interact with magical creatures up close and y with them as much as I want¡­ It¡¯s quite wonderful, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Is it¡­ really?¡± Harry didn¡¯t quite understand this mindset. Back then, Poppy had always been like this¡ªadoring magical creatures, even helping him and Veratia rescue a dragon from poachers.

    The Room of Requirement¡¯s magical creature sanctuary had been established under Poppy¡¯s suggestion.

    ¡°Of course,¡± Poppy said, grabbing Harry¡¯s robes with her mouth again, tugging yfully. ¡°Ha-rry! Ha-rry!¡±

    Just like the little girl who used to pull at his robes all the time.

    ¡°But¡­ are you sure your injury isn¡¯t serious?¡± Harry asked hesitantly, ncing at Poppy¡¯s wound. ¡°It¡¯s still bleeding. Maybe¡­ I could fetch Professor Dumbledore? He¡¯s the greatest white wizard of our time; surely, he could lift the curse on your wound. Or maybe Professor Snape? He¡¯s an exceptional Potions Master, and the Blood-Replenishing Potion you just took was brewed by him.¡±

    ¡°He seems much morepetent than Professor Sharp, don¡¯t you think?¡± Poppy quipped with a smile, before leaning in closer and whispering conspiratorially. ¡°By the way, do you still have any Weasleys this year? If I remember correctly, the Potions professors always seem to have it out for them¡­¡±

    ¡°There are five brothers in total, all in Gryffindor,¡± Harry remarked wryly. ¡°The rtionship between Snape and them? Let¡¯s just say it¡¯s far from harmonious¡ªmore like sworn enemies.¡±

    Poppy giggled, herughter light and tinkling. Then she added, ¡°Anyway, let¡¯s keep my little secret under wraps when we get back to Hogwarts, alright? You know, magical Animagi are rare, especially unicorn Animagi.¡±

    ¡°But what about your curse?¡± Harry scratched his head.

    ¡°That¡¯s where youe in,¡± Poppy said, nuzzling her head against Harry¡¯s face. ¡°You¡¯re the heir to ancient magic. Maybe once you fully regain your powers, you can help me¡­¡±

    ¡°I will, Poppy. I promise,¡± Harry nodded firmly. ¡°I¡¯ll help you as soon as I can.¡±

    ¡°Alright,¡± Poppy replied, tugging at Harry¡¯s robes again.

    ¡°Every night, I¡¯ll bring Blood-Replenishing Potion to the edge of the Forbidden Forest,¡± Harry promised. ¡°It¡¯s not good for your wound to remain unhealed.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll hold you to that,¡± Poppy said.

    Suddenly, she lifted her head and warned, ¡°Be careful. Someone¡¯sing!¡±

    Harry swiftly drew his wand and traced an R in the air.

    ¡°Revelio!¡±

    With the aid of the Revelio Charm¡ªco-developed by him and Veratia¡ªhe could see a tall, blue figure moving toward them from the bushes.

    The spell revealed creatures within its range, with blue signifying friendliness and red hostility.

    ¡°It¡¯s Hagrid,¡± Harry said, lowering his wand. ¡°He¡¯s a friend.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Poppy replied with a nod.

    Sure enough, a rustling sound came from the bushes, and Hagrid¡¯s massive form emerged.

    ¡°Harry!¡± Hagrid lowered his crossbow and thumped his chest in relief. ¡°Thank heavens you¡¯re alright¡ªoh, Miss Poppy, good evening¡­ Are you hurt?¡±

    ¡°Good evening, Hagrid,¡± Poppy¡¯s ethereal voice returned. She gave Harry a meaningful nce before replying, ¡°Thanks to this young man, I was spared from being killed by a dark wizard.¡±

    ¡°A dark wizard?¡± Hagrid raised his crossbow again, scanning their surroundings.

    ¡°He¡¯s gone, Hagrid,¡± Harry said, tugging at his arm. ¡°I drove him off.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Hagrid beamed at Harry. ¡°I knew it! You¡¯re just as brave as your parents were, Harry. For someone your age to face a dark wizard¡ªit¡¯s no small feat, let alone defeating one!¡±

    Poppy said nothing, though her eyes glimmered with amusement.

    Oh, Hagrid, if only you knew how many dark wizards this ¡°little Harry¡± has defeated¡­

    ¡°By the way, Miss Poppy, is your injury alright?¡± Hagrid asked again. ¡°Perhaps we could visit Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing?¡±

    ¡°No need, Hagrid. Thank you,¡± Poppy replied softly. ¡°It¡¯s gettingte, and I should be going. Harry, don¡¯t forget our agreement.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Miss Poppy,¡± Harry nodded.

    Poppy shook her head fondly, nuzzling Harry¡¯s face onest time before turning to leave.

    ¡°Goodness¡­¡± Hagrid wiped a tear from his eye, clearly moved. ¡°I thought unicorns only bonded with the purest of young maidens, but it seems they like boys too¡­¡±

    ¡°Well, I have a pretty pure heart too, Hagrid,¡± Harry said, patting Hagrid¡¯s arm. ¡°Just like you. Otherwise, Poppy wouldn¡¯t be your friend, right?¡±

    ¡°Oh, Harry¡­¡±

    Hagrid ruffled Harry¡¯s messy hair, a warm smile spreading across his face.

    This kid¡­

    He always knows just what to say to warm your heart.

    <strong>---</strong>

    <strong>you can read more advance chapter & Fast update on mypatreon</strong>

 Chapter 81: Surely We Canâ€™t Expect First-Years to Protect the Philosopherâ€™s Stone?

    The first ss on the second morning was Professor Snape¡¯s Potions ss.

    Still groggy, Harry felt someone nudging him.

    ¡°Wake up, Harry.¡±

    It was Seamus¡¯s voice.

    ¡°It¡¯s Snape¡¯s ss today. You don¡¯t want to get sprayed by his venom, do you?¡±

    That was Ron¡¯s voice.

    ¡°Venom?¡± Harry rubbed his eyes.

    ¡°Oh, I mean Snape,¡± Ron exined helpfully. ¡°Fred and George say he looks like a bat in his long ck robes.¡±

    Harry couldn¡¯t help it¡ªheughed.

    ***

    At breakfast, Ron leaned over to Harry and whispered, ¡°So, Harry, how wasst night in the Forbidden Forest?¡±

    ¡°It was alright,¡± Harry shrugged, spreading baked beans on a slice of bread, then adding sausage and bacon. ¡°The forest is dangerous, sure, but I made a new friend in there. After lunch, I¡¯ll introduce you.¡±

    ¡°A new friend?¡± Ron perked up. ¡°She? Is it... a centaur?¡±

    ¡°No, a unicorn,¡± Harry said with a mysterious smile.

    ¡°Cool...¡± Hermione, intrigued, leaned in. ¡°How did you meet? I mean, I¡¯ve read that unicorns generally only trust pure-hearted women. I didn¡¯t think they¡¯d befriend a boy.¡±

    ¡°Well, a dark wizard attacked her, and I just happened to pass by and saved her,¡± Harry said matter-of-factly.

    ¡°And how did you defeat a dark wizard?¡± Neville asked curiously.

    ¡°I hit him with a harmless little jinx,¡± Harry replied, taking a bite of his bread.

    The tangy baked beans,bined with the distinct vor of sausage and smoky bacon, made Harry feel a bit more alive after a night of emptiness in his stomach.

    ¡°What kind of jinx?¡± Hermione, ever-alert, narrowed her eyes.@@novelbin@@

    ¡°Oh, nothing major...¡± Harry hesitated.

    Hermione¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°You didn¡¯t... oh no, Harry, you didn¡¯t actually use¡ª¡± Her voice faltered as if she couldn¡¯t finish.

    ¡°Well, alright,¡± she conceded after a moment. ¡°In a life-threatening situation, I suppose experimenting with spells isn¡¯t entirely unreasonable. But... no one saw, right?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Harry said. But then he suddenly remembered Fang.

    Oh no. When leaving with Hagridst night, he¡¯d forgotten to bring along the unconscious Fang, who¡¯d been hit by a Stunning Spell.

    <em>I hope he¡¯s alright,</em>Harry thought,yering scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, a slice of tomato, and cheese onto a piece of toast to make himself a satisfying sandwich.

    --

    Hermione frowned, bringing the conversation back. ¡°But why would a dark wizard attack a unicorn? Unicorns are sacred and noble creatures. It¡¯s an unforgivable act under any circumstances.¡±

    ¡°For their blood,¡± Harry said simply. ¡°A centaur named Firenze told me that dark wizard was using unicorn blood to prolong his miserable life, just until he could get the Philosopher¡¯s Stone to restore his power fully.¡±

    ¡°That exins it,¡± Hermione muttered. After thinking for a moment, she asked, ¡°But here¡¯s the real question: the Philosopher¡¯s Stone is at Hogwarts. Who would dare steal it under Dumbledore¡¯s nose?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s someone who¡¯s been hiding in the shadows for years, desperate to return to power,¡± Harry replied, finishing his sandwich in three quick bites. ¡°Who else could it be?¡±

    ¡°Who?¡± Ron asked, sipping his pumpkin juice.

    ¡°Voldemort,¡± Hermione whispered.

    At the mention of the name, Ron¡¯s hand slipped, and his pumpkin juice tumbled onto the table. Fortunately, the sturdy ss didn¡¯t break, and most of the juice had already been drunk, sparing him from a mess.

    Seamus gasped sharply, whether from the name or the revtion about Voldemort, while Neville wentpletely pale.

    Among the five of them, only Hermione and Harry seemed unaffected by the name.

    For Hermione, it was because she didn¡¯t fully grasp the terror Voldemort had once inspired. Harry, on the other hand, simply didn¡¯t see why Voldemort was worth fearing.

    ¡°This can¡¯t be true!¡± Ron eximed, jumping to his feet. His sudden movement drew the attention of the entire Great Hall, and he quickly sat back down, lowering his voice. ¡°It¡¯s impossible! Dumbledore¡¯s at Hogwarts¡ªVoldemort wouldn¡¯t dare!¡±

    ¡°What if Dumbledore isn¡¯t at the school?¡± Hermione retorted. ¡°The headmaster can¡¯t be here all the time. If he leaves, that¡¯s the perfect chance for Voldemort to strike! We have to warn Dumbledore!¡±

    ¡°Rx, Hermione,¡± Harry said absentmindedly. ¡°Hagrid went to Dumbledore¡¯s officest night to tell him everything.¡±

    With that assurance, Hermione dropped the matter, though she still frowned.

    <em>Surely Dumbledore would take the necessary precautions.</em>

    After all, they couldn¡¯t possibly expect first-year students to protect the Philosopher¡¯s Stone, could they?

    --

    Potions ss passed as usual under Professor Snape¡¯s venomous gaze and sharp tongue. Even Hermione wasn¡¯t spared this time¡ªher distracted mind led her to identally add half an ounce too much bat liver.

    When Harry managed to brew a perfect batch of Swelling Solution, Snape grudgingly added one point to Gryffindor.

    But then, he promptly deducted five points because Neville burned his cauldron.

    The Gryffindors were unfazed¡ªlosing points under Snape¡¯s watch was practically a tradition.

    Still, it didn¡¯t stop Slytherin from being deadst in the House Cup race¡ªmainly because Snape himself had docked 150 points from his own house earlier that term.

    ***

    After ss, Harry told Ron and the others to wait outside.

    He needed a Blood-Replenishing Potion, and while he¡¯d bought some in Diagon Alley before, it was no match for something brewed by a potions master like Snape.

    Poppy deserved the best.

    Snape noticed Harry lingering behind and smirked, his lips curling in that greasy, mocking way of his.

    ¡°Is there something you need, Potter?¡± he drawled. ¡°Or has the great <em>Savior of the Wizarding World</eme to consult his <em>poor, old professor</em>about some adolescent issue?

    <strong>---</strong>

    <strong>you can read more advance chapter & Fast update on mypatreon</strong>

 Chapter 83: Harry and I Have Known Each Other for Over a Century

    After Poppy finished eating the food Harry had brought, the group sat down on the grass and began to chat casually.

    Poppyy curled up on the ground, motioning for Harry to lean against her.@@novelbin@@

    The others weren¡¯t as fortunate; the four of them could only sit across from Harry, looking on enviously at how the unicorn showed Harry such affection.

    ¡°If I hadn¡¯t seen it with my own eyes, I¡¯d have thought unicorns only warmed up to the purest-hearted young maidens,¡± Hermione said wistfully. ¡°But then again, it makes sense since Harry saved Miss Poppy¡¯s life...¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not right, Hermione,¡± Poppy corrected her. ¡°It¡¯s not because Harry saved me; it¡¯s because Harry and I are old friends.¡±

    ¡°Old friends?!¡± The group eximed in unison.

    They all knew Harry had grown up in his aunt and uncle¡¯s house with little to no contact with the wizarding world. How could he possibly be old friends with a unicorn?

    Harry tilted his head and asked, ¡°Do I really have to exin, Poppy?¡±

    ¡°Of course! Harry and I have known each other for over a hundred years,¡± Poppy said, flicking Harry¡¯s face lightly with her tail. ¡°To be precise, it¡¯s been 105 years!¡±

    ¡°One hundred and five years?!¡± Hermione quickly did the math. 1992 minus 105¡­

    ¡°That¡¯s impossible! A hundred and five years ago was 1887,¡± Hermione said, her face full of disbelief. ¡°Harry is only twelve years old, and you¡­¡±

    ¡°Unicorns live for a very long time,¡± Poppy said with a cheerfulugh.

    ¡°That¡¯s still impossible unless Harry traveled through time, went back a hundred years, and returned!¡± Hermione said firmly. ¡°But that¡¯s impossible. Time travel only exists in science fiction, not reality!¡±

    ¡°Well, believe what you want,¡± Poppy said with a knowing smile. It wasn¡¯t the first time she¡¯d been doubted.

    ¡°I did visit the Forbidden Forest once before,¡± Harry said, skirting around the details of a century ago. ¡°That¡¯s when I met Poppy, and we became friends.¡±

    This exnation satisfied the group. They epted it as the truth.

    ¡°Looks like Miss Poppy has mistaken you for that Harry from a hundred years ago,¡± Ron said, hugging his knees.

    ¡°You mean that Harry? Oh, I knew him too,¡± Poppy said brightly.

    ¡°What?!¡±

    The four gasped in shock. They couldn¡¯t believe the unicorn before them actually knew the Harry Potter from a century ago.

    ¡°Yes, the Harry Potter from a hundred years ago was quite the figure at this school,¡± Poppy said with a radiant smile. ¡°Take this Forbidden Forest, for instance. What do you think of it?¡±

    ¡°What do we think? It¡¯s terrifying, of course!¡± Seamus eximed eagerly. ¡°The forest is full of all sorts of creatures¡ªwerewolves, trolls, and I¡¯ve even heard there are spiders as big as cars...¡±

    Hearing the phrase ¡°spiders as big as cars,¡± Ron turned pale. For the first time in his life, he cursed his vivid imagination. Just one sentence, and he¡¯d already conjured a horrifying image of the spiders in his mind.

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Poppy said meaningfully, ncing at Harry. ¡°But, Harry¡­ every time he entered the Forbidden Forest, it was like he wasing home.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± the four asked in unison.

    ¡°Of course,¡± Poppy said, her voice full of nostalgia. ¡°Things are very different nowpared to a hundred years ago. Back then, Hogwarts was surrounded by dangers¡ªdark wizards roamed outside the school gates, and the Forbidden Forest was full of poachers. They even had a Poachers¡¯ Guild, and their ck market auctions featured dragons.¡±

    ¡°It was a perilous time for students. Danger lurked everywhere outside Hogwarts, and stories of students being harmed¡ªor even killed¡ªby dark wizards were far toomon...¡±

    ¡°So what happened to them? Why did they disappear?¡± Hermione asked, puzzled. ¡°Poaching in the Forbidden Forest must have been highly lucrative. I can¡¯t believe such arge organization would simply vanish...¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re all dead, of course,¡± Poppy said, lifting her head with a human-like smile. ¡°The most feared group of them all, Ashwinder Gang, who even the Ministry of Magic hesitated to provoke, was utterly wiped out by that Harry Potter and hispanions. Any dark wizard who dared resist met their end under a curse. After that, the name Ashwinder Gang faded into history.¡±

    ¡°Wow¡­¡± The four were in awe.

    To them, Poppy was a living witness to history. Her words had to be true.

    What¡¯s more, that Harry Potter shared the same name as their Harry Potter. This naturally made them feel a strong connection to the Harry from a century ago.

    ¡°Could you tell us more about that Harry and his friends?¡± Hermione, ever the schr, was especially intrigued by this hidden history. She looked at Poppy expectantly, eager for answers.

    Poppy shifted into a morefortable position and began her story.

    ¡°Yes, Harry had several good friends. There was Gareth Weasley from Gryffindor¡­¡±

    She nced at Ron. ¡°Your ancestor, Ron.¡±

    ¡°Yes! My great-grandfather!¡± Ron said proudly, thumping his chest. He was thrilled that his ancestor had been friends with such a great Harry Potter.

    ¡°There was also Amit Thakkar from Ravenw, Poppy Sweeting from Hufflepuff,¡± Poppy continued, ¡°and from Slytherin, Ominis Gaunt and Sebastian Sallow.¡±

    ¡°Additionally, there were two girls deeply connected to Harry¡ªCassandra Malfoy and Veratia Grindelwald.¡±

    As she said this, Poppy cast a sly nce at Harry but saw no reaction from him.

    ¡°Grindelwald?!¡± Seamus frowned. ¡°That surname¡­ why does it sound so familiar?¡±

    ¡°From the Chocte Frog cards, of course,¡± Ron said over his shoulder. ¡°The dark wizard Dumbledore defeated in 1945¡ªhis name was Grindelwald.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right,¡± Seamus said, realization dawning. He then turned to Poppy. ¡°Miss Poppy, was that Grindelwald girl rted to the dark wizard Grindelwald?¡±

    ¡°As far as I know, Veratia Grindelwald was Gellert Grindelwald¡¯s sister,¡± Poppy recalled.

    ¡°Unbelievable, huh?¡± Ron said, turning to his friends. ¡°Two siblings from the same parents¡ªone who fought dark wizards, and the other who became one. I wonder what that missing Grindelwald sister would think if she knew her brother became a dark wizard...¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d better not let either Grindelwald hear you say that,¡± Poppy said sympathetically, ncing at Ron. For some reason, she felt Ron might someday cross paths with Gellert.

    Hermione, however, had honed in on something important. She turned to Poppy.

    ¡°Miss Poppy, you mentioned a Hufflepuff named Poppy Sweeting earlier. Is your name rted to hers?¡±

    <strong>---</strong>

    <strong>you can read more advance chapter & Fast update on mypatreon</strong>

 Chapter 86: The Painful Aftereffects

    No matter how much Neville struggled, he ultimately had to ept reality.

    Even if sorrow could flow backward like a river, it wouldn¡¯t change the fact that he was now bound to endure Snape''s ¡°special tutoring.¡±

    Resigned to his fate, he directed all his frustration and sadness toward the dinner table, voraciously devouring several hearty steaks.

    Just as Harry was finishing his meal, a delicate paper crane fluttered in front of him.

    It was a letter from Gemma.<blockquote>

    <strong>Harry,</strong>

    <em>There¡¯s something I¡¯d like to discuss with you in person. I¡¯ll wait for you in the empty ssroom on the second floor.</em>

    <em>Yours sincerely,</em>

    <em>G.A. Farley</em></blockquote>

    Harry folded the letter and nced over at the Slytherin table.

    Miss Farley, as if sensing his gaze, brushed her sleek ck hair to one side and nodded slightly in his direction with a polite smile before leaving the table.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got something to do, Ron,¡± Harry said as he stood up. ¡°You can head back to the dorm without me.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± Ron didn¡¯t pry, too focused on his chicken drumstick to care.

    Following Gemma¡¯s trail, Harry ascended the stairs to the second floor of the castle. He pulled his wand from the lining of his robe and slid it into his sleeve¡ªa precautionary habit ingrained in him by Cassandra.

    When he reached the empty ssroom where he hadst met Gemma, he cast <em>Homenum Revelio</em>to confirm she was alone before pushing open the door. Sitting on a bench, Gemma looked deeply worried.

    ¡°Mr. Potter¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Gemma?¡± Harry asked, taking a seat across from her.

    ¡°Something strange has been happening in Slytherintely,¡± Gemma said in a low voice, ncing at the door to ensure no one was eavesdropping.

    Harry remained silent, his focus entirely on her words.

    ¡°A mysterious notebook has appeared in the Slytherinmon room,¡± she continued. ¡°Draco Malfoy brought it in. Those who¡¯ve used it im it has a will of its own, helping them quicklyplete their assignments or improve their spellwork.¡±

    ¡°But they have to pay a small ¡®price.¡¯ I reported it to Professor Snape, but he didn¡¯t seem to care¡ªlike he has more pressing matters to deal with.¡±

    Harry instantly connected the dots.

    No wonder the Slytherin students were always so exhausted¡ªthey were using a notebook that drained their soul energy.

    ¡°A notebook?¡± Harry frowned. ¡°What kind of notebook? Are you sure Draco brought it?¡±

    He felt a surge of unease. Could the notebook be¡­ one of Cassandra¡¯s relics?

    ¡°Yes,¡± Gemma said earnestly. ¡°It¡¯s supposedly a family heirloom. I¡¯ve heard it contains the image of a beautiful girl with exceptional spellcasting skills.¡±

    ¡°A girl?¡± Harry¡¯s heart skipped a beat.

    Suppressing his excitement, he asked calmly, ¡°Could it be an ancestor of the Malfoy family?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± Gemma admitted. ¡°Everyone seems to avoid describing the girl¡¯s appearance.¡±

    ¡°This is valuable information. Thank you, Gemma,¡± Harry said sincerely.

    Part of him hoped the girl was Cassandra. Yet another part wished she wasn¡¯t¡ªafter all, the notebook was clearly an artifact of dark magic. And, for reasons he couldn¡¯t quite exin, he didn¡¯t want Cassandra associated with other boys.

    A century ago, Cassandra had been like an unattainable flower atop a high peak, indifferent to everyone except Harry. She hadn¡¯t even spoken kindly to him, let alone anyone else.@@novelbin@@

    ¡°I hope you can help, Harry,¡± Gemma said, rubbing her temples. ¡°I have a gut feeling this notebook is bad news. I¡¯ve heard Draco¡¯s father, Lucius Malfoy, was once a loyal servant of You-Know-Who. That notebook might be one of his dark artifacts. I don¡¯t want Slytherin gued by his influence again.¡±

    ¡°Whye to me for help?¡± Harry asked, genuinely curious.

    ¡°This is dark magic. Evil dark magic,¡± Gemma said firmly. ¡°Who else but dark wizards would deal in soul energy?¡±

    ¡°Besides, as a Slytherin prefect, I could report this to Professor Snape or even the Headmaster. But doing so would iste my family from the pure-blood factions in Slytherin.¡±

    Harry nodded. That reasoning was entirely consistent with Slytherin¡¯s pragmatic approach.

    ¡°As an exchange, I offer you my loyalty, Mr. Potter,¡± Gemma said.

    Slytherins were nothing if not practical. They understood that asking for help required offering something in return. Gemma saw this as an opportunity to align herself with the Boy Who Lived.

    Harry didn¡¯t ept or reject her offer outright. Instead, he gave her a warm smile.

    ¡°I¡¯ll help as much as I can, Gemma.¡±

    Gemma didn¡¯t seem disappointed by his response. She looked visibly relieved.

    ¡°Thank you, Mr. Potter.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so formal¡ªjust call me Harry,¡± he said, standing up. ¡°If there¡¯s nothing else, I¡¯ll take my leave.¡±

    After bidding Gemma farewell, Harry returned to the Gryffindormon room.

    The notebook Gemma mentioned intrigued him.

    Still, he wasn¡¯t ready to involve Dumbledore just yet. He needed to confirm whether it truly had any connection to Cassandra.

    This matter required careful nning. Barging into the Slytherinmon room wasn¡¯t exactly an option for a Gryffindor.

    The next week passed peacefully. At lunchtime, Harry continued to feed Poppy the owl, and in the evenings, he trained in dueling with his friends in the Dueling Club. Life felt full and satisfying.

    When Defense Against the Dark Arts rolled around, Harry joined his fellow Gryffindors in the ssroom, bracing himself for another round of verbal venom from Professor Snape.

    To their surprise, however, their instructor wasn¡¯t Snape this week¡ªit was none other than the returned Professor Quirrell.

    Quirrell looked even paler than before. Seamus, ever concerned, asked about his health, and Quirrell exined that the vampire curse had red up again.

    Yet Harry sensed something amiss.

    In an instant, he spotted a subtle secret about Quirrell.

    There was no denying it: Veratia truly was a genius witch, deserving of Professor Figo¡¯s ¡°one of a kind¡± praise.

    Under her guidance, even minor curses like the Imperius Curse or the Cruciatus Curse left faint, nearly imperceptible marks on their targets.

    And there, on Quirrell, was one of those marks¡ªa tiny imprint left by a spell Harry had cast.

    <strong>---</strong>

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 Chapter 88: Gryffindor, Courage Above All!

    Harry looked at hispanions, understanding that strong trees could never grow in greenhouses.

    A hundred years ago, Hogwarts students stood out because the magical world itself was fraught with danger¡ªjust stepping outside could mean encountering poachers or dark wizards.

    Seeing their eagerness to stop Quirrell, Harry realized that dissuading them would be futile. Rather than having them sneak along in secret, he decided it was better to agree to theirpany, so he could at least watch over them.

    On the other hand, Harry also wanted to temper hispanions, just as Sebastian and the others had tempered him in the past.

    Overprotection would only make them fragile flowers in a greenhouse, not towering trees capable of standing alone.

    "This is Felix Felicis," Harry said, holding a small vial of the shimmering potion. "I don¡¯t need to exin what it does. At the very least, it¡¯ll ensure none of you get hurt. Come on, each of you take a small sip."

    With that, Harry conjured four small cups using Transfiguration, evenly dividing the potion and handing it to the group.

    "What about you, Harry?" Ron asked.

    "I don¡¯t need it," Harry replied with a wink.

    After the four drained their cups, Harry addressed them again: "This is a real test for our Dueling Club. I hope you¡¯ll follow my lead."

    "Understood, Harry," they replied in unison.

    Harry nodded, handing the Invisibility Cloak to the group.

    "Follow me. Wear this."

    The cloak wasrge enough to cover all four of them as they moved.

    "Neville! You¡¯re stepping on my foot!" Seamusined in a low voice.

    "Sorry!" Neville apologized hastily.

    They ascended the staircase to the fourth floor, where Hermione pulled off the cloak and approached a door. "Look! This door¡¯s been opened. It¡¯s obvious Quirrell has already gone in!"

    A deep growling sound came from within. Hermione opened the door, locking eyes with the three-headed dog inside.

    "There¡¯s a harp over there," Hermione said, turning back to the group. "Hagrid once mentioned that Fluffy falls asleep to music..."

    She drew her wand and waved it gently toward the harp, which began to y a soothing tune. Fluffy, who had been growling, immediately started to droop its eyelids and fell asleep within seconds.

    "Quick, get inside," Hermione whispered, still directing the harp with her wand.

    "It won¡¯t wake up, will it?" Neville asked nervously, ncing at Fluffy.

    "It won¡¯t," Harry assured him, stepping into the room first. Ron followed, scanning the walls but failing to find the next door.

    "Over here!" Seamus called, gesturing to a trapdoor in the floor.

    "Lumos." Harry lit his wand and peered down but couldn¡¯t see the bottom.

    "Revelio!" he cast another spell, but the result was the same.

    "I¡¯ll go first," Harry told the group. "If it¡¯s safe, I¡¯ll call you down."

    "And if it¡¯s not?" Ron asked.

    "Then you go get the professors!" Harry rolled his eyes before jumping in, casting a cushioning charm as he descended.

    Hended on something soft and springy¡ªa nt, most likely.

    "It¡¯s fine! Come down!" he shouted up.

    The opening above looked norger than a fingernail from his perspective.

    "Ahhh!"

    With four simultaneous screams, the rest of the groupnded beside him.

    "You know," Neville muttered, "I had half a mind to strangle you midair!"

    "Be grateful for the nt," Ron said, brushing himself off.

    "Grateful?" Hermione shrieked. "It¡¯s grabbing my legs! Oh no, it¡¯s wrapping around me!"

    It was then that everyone noticed something was wrong.

    Ron struggled but found the more he moved, the tighter the grip became.

    "Stop struggling, Ron!" Neville shouted. "It¡¯s Devil¡¯s Snare! The more you fight, the tighter it gets!"

    "Great!" Ron snapped. "Now that we know what it is, what do we do about it? Neville, you¡¯re the Herbology enthusiast!"

    "Professor Sprout mentioned..." Neville mumbled, before shouting, "Seamus! Burn it! It hates fire!"

    "No! Not Seamus!"

    Ron barely managed to protest before there was a deafening explosion.

    The Devil¡¯s Snare recoiled, releasing the group, who tumbled to the ground.

    "See? Sometimes, I¡¯m pretty good," Seamus grinned. "That Devil¡¯s Snare really hated my little explosion."

    "I¡¯d appreciate it if you¡¯d use actual mes next time," Neville said, his face covered in soot.

    Seamus¡¯s spell had been too close to Neville, making him the primary victim of the st.

    "Good thing Neville knows his Herbology," Ron said, still shaken. "Otherwise, we¡¯d all have been done for."

    "Let¡¯s keep moving," Hermione said, wiping the corner of her mouth to stifle augh.@@novelbin@@

    They continued down a stone corridor, their footsteps echoing alongside the sound of dripping water.

    "Do you hear something?" Neville asked quietly.

    "It¡¯s a buzzing sound, like flies," Hermione said, looking ahead.

    "Let¡¯s check it out," Ron said, confidently leading the way¡ªperhaps emboldened by the Felix Felicis.

    At the end of the corridor, they entered a brightly lit room with a high, arched ceiling.

    Countless sparkling, gem-like birds flitted around, their wings shimmering as they darted through the room.

    On the far side stood a thick wooden door, barring their way.

    "They¡¯re not birds," Seamus said, squinting up at them. "They¡¯re keys. But which one¡¯s the right one?"

    "The big one!" Neville pointed at arge, sky-blue key with damaged wings.

    Ron and Hermione spotted a broomstick lying near the door.

    "Harry!" Ron eximed, pointing at it. "You¡¯re the Seeker¡ªit¡¯s your time to shine!"

    "io!" Harry said, raising his wand toward the injured key.

    The key iled weakly but couldn¡¯t resist the spell. Harry grabbed it, smirking at Ron.

    "Sometimes, being a Seeker doesn¡¯t even require a broom."

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