Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 260 Hermione, Harry, and Ron's falling out

Apart from Slytherin itself, the other three houses don't mind making fun of them as a joke.

Feed the answer into their mouth!

In the days that followed, this phrase became the favorite repetition of every young wizard who saw the Slytherin badge pinned to their chest.

The little snakes were embarrassed and angry.

Harry, on the other hand, was very happy.

Unfortunately, the joy was short-lived. Although Harry tried his best to keep it from Wood, Vaughn had quit the Slytherin Quidditch team this semester, the truth could not be hidden forever.

Besides, Slytherin's captain, Marcus Flint, is a guy whose brain isn't even as big as a troll's.

On Friday morning, Wood ran into Marcus Flint when he went to the vice principal's office to ask Professor McGonagall for Saturday's field practice time.

He deliberately provoked the other party a few times, and then that brainless humanoid giant brought up the fact that Vaughn had quit the team.

"We can still beat you, Oliver Wood, even without Vaughn—Mr. Vaughn Weasley!"

These are Flint Chongwood's boasts.

But nobody cared.

Wood practically skipped all the way back to Hogwarts Tower, where he happily hugged every team member before being brutally beaten by the offended Angelina Jensen, Arya Spinnett, and Katie Bell.

However, Wood didn't mind.

"This is the best news ever! I'd be willing to take a death curse for it!"

Wood spoke with such hopeful, almost fanatical fervor that one couldn't help but wonder if he was truly insane.

Yes, Vaughn's presence was indeed unsettling and frustrating. Losing Vaughn, a major rival, this year is certainly something to celebrate, but only if the training volume doesn't increase further.

So, will Wood reduce his training volume because Vaughn is not here?

dream!

That very night, Harry saw Wood carrying a huge stack of tactical boards, which, when laid horizontally and stacked, were taller than him, running into the Gryffindor locker room on the field!

What was supposed to be a much-anticipated weekend suddenly turned into an approaching hell.

Also on Friday, rumors circulated about Vaughn leaving the Slytherin team and appearing on campus, along with news about a new course: Duel Class!

The news came from Draco Malfoy, who was telling everyone Friday morning that the Board of Governors had ended its overnight meeting on Thursday.

The meeting lasted for hours (the night before the meeting started, Wednesday, was a full moon).

The meeting ultimately approved Vaughn Weasley's proposal for a dueling club.

"—Vaughn initially only wanted to start a club." That noon, Draco Malfoy boasted at the Slytherin table in front of everyone, "It was my father, Mr. Lucius Malfoy, the Hogwarts Head of State, who suggested we go even further and upgrade it to a supplementary practical course!"

"My dad says students should have a professional, in-depth training course that teaches practical magic to help us better complete our practice!"

Draco Malfoy was smug and arrogant, while a bunch of Slytherins fawned over him and clapped loudly.

But Harry thought he was definitely bragging, or that his father, Lucius Malfoy, was bragging in front of him and he was actually believing it.

Of course, whether it's bragging or not, and who proposed upgrading the Duel Club to the Duel Class, is not important.

Many young wizards believe that the dueling class itself is the most important thing!

Ron was thrilled. Back in the common room that evening, he was still waving his wand, pointing and gesturing wildly: "Watch this, Harry! I'm going to duel Malfoy, beat him, and make him look like a fool in front of everyone!"

Harry remained noncommittal.

During his first practical lesson, he saw from afar that Malfoy summoned a venomous snake to attack a giant wolf, and Hermione told him that it was dark magic.

He didn't think Ron was capable of dealing with Malfoy's dark magic.

However, he wouldn't say anything to discourage them, because, after all, he and Ron were on the same side.

Harry applauded Ron's high spirits as an encouragement, then, using the topic of the Dueling Club as a pretext, struck up a conversation with Hermione, who was sitting on the other side of the sofa and had been giving them the cold shoulder for several days: "Hermione, is there anyone you want to defeat?"

Hermione ignored him.

Harry wasn't discouraged and continued, "But I don't think anyone would want to duel you. You knew the Mass Petrification Charm in your first year, which I heard is taught in the third year."

Although the flattery was forced, Harry noticed that Hermione, who seemed indifferent, was actually quite pleased.

Harry, shameless as ever, decided to strike while the iron was hot: "Could you give Ron and me some special training lately? How about tomorrow?"

On Saturday, since we don't have classes, we'll go to Hagrid's cabin for training and also visit him; we haven't seen him for two weeks.

The so-called special training and visits are just excuses.

The main purpose, of course, was to ease the conflict between the two good friends.

After a year together, Harry knew that Hermione was tough on the outside but soft on the inside, and that Ron had always wanted to apologize to Hermione.

Everyone just needs a stepping stone.

Sure enough, Ron, who had been chattering away just a moment ago, immediately fell silent upon hearing Harry's invitation, staring longingly at Hermione. Hermione, who had initially been reluctant to engage, also hesitated and turned around.

After a long pause, Harry finally heard Hermione's sarcastic reply: "I wouldn't dare train the famous Savior and Ronald Weasley, otherwise people would say I'm meddling and ungrateful!"

Ron, standing to the side, blushed.

These are the words he said without thinking during an argument in practical class on Monday.

"Consider it helping me, Hermione. I desperately need to improve my magical abilities." Harry hesitated for a moment, but in order to mend the relationship between the two good friends, and also because of his recent troubles, he decided to reveal part of the secret.

He looked around and saw that everyone in the common room was talking about "Duel Class" in small groups, so he got up and beckoned Ron and Hermione to come out with him.

The two didn't understand what he was going to do, but they followed him anyway.

The three of them squeezed through the cramped tower, which was practically the exit of a ventilation duct, and left the tower amidst the fat lady's impatient voice, making their way to the abandoned women's restroom.

Here, Harry recounts to Ron and Hermione how he received the notebook from Draco Malfoy, how Snape took it, and what happened afterward, including the unusual thing he noticed about Colin Creevey during Monday's Practical Class.

"Merlin! Harry, how could you just chat with a talking notebook? In the wizarding world, even preschoolers know that if a magical object speaks to you warmly and acts like your friend, never trust it!"

Hearing Harry recount his interactions with the notebook.

Ron stared at Harry with wide eyes and a very offensive look.

Harry was getting annoyed by the stare: "How many times have I told you, I grew up in Muggle society, I—never mind, what do you mean by that?"

A magical item that can communicate with people—is that bad?

"It's not just bad, it's absolutely awful!"

Ron exclaimed, "The ability to communicate means it's intelligent! Think about the lessons we learned, Harry, what creates intelligence?"

Harry wasn't entirely clueless about this question. His first-year textbook, *Introduction to the Fundamentals of Magic*, explained the origin of emotions, stating that intelligence stems from consciousness, and consciousness stems from—

soul!

Thinking about this, Harry felt his throat get a little dry.

Noticing the change in his expression, knowing he must be recalling something he had learned before, Ron continued, "Yes, souls, those magical artifacts that can communicate and possess intelligence, are almost always stuffed with souls by their creators, human souls at that—I've heard that it involves extremely cruel methods of creation, so for over a thousand years, white wizards have completely abandoned that school of alchemy, leaving only black wizards to use it—"

"I can tell you with absolute certainty, Harry, that notebook you got is definitely an evil dark magic artifact!"

"—Is it possible that it's an antique from over a thousand years ago?"

Harry persisted, desperately trying to find a reason: "I snatched the notebook from Malfoy. Malfoys are a pure-blood family; it's not surprising they have one or two ancient magical artifacts passed down, is it?"

"Come on!" Ron ruthlessly crushed Harry's last shred of hope. "The Malfoy family doesn't even have as long a history as the Weasleys. I heard their ancestors served a Muggle king named—"

Ron got stuck. He only had a superficial understanding of Muggle history, having only occasionally overheard Vaughn and Arthur talking and jotted down a few fragmented notes.

He couldn't help but look at Hermione.

Perhaps because the topic of conversation concerned Harry's safety, Hermione did not ignore Ron this time, and as Ron had expected, she was very knowledgeable. She continued, "It was William the Conqueror, Duke of Normandy, a Norman with a French title, who invaded England and established the Norman dynasty. The first Malfoy, Armand Malfoy, came to England with him, probably in the late 11th or early 12th century."

Well, the timing barely matches up.

But Hermione also shattered Harry's illusions: "I agree with Ronald's point of view. That notebook is very likely the work of a modern dark wizard, a completely dark magical artifact. Harry, do you remember what Vaughn once said? Time is the greatest magic. Given enough time, any miracle will return to the ordinary, and magic is no exception."

"Currently, aside from a few alchemical artifacts, there aren't many magical items that can be preserved for a thousand years. Do you think that notebook could be an alchemical artifact?"

Harry was speechless when he saw Hermione's serious expression.

Even a novice like him knows what an alchemical artifact is—it's a super treasure that only two exist in all of England.

The pen of acceptance and the book of admission.

99% of wizards will never see them in their entire lives!

Harry didn't think he could obtain such a treasure so easily. Besides, if it were truly an alchemical artifact, the Malfoy family would probably have already stormed Hogwarts—

The undeniable truth left him feeling somewhat depressed and indecisive. He could only look to his two close friends: "What should I do?"

Ron replied without hesitation, "What else can we do? You've already lost it, haven't you? Just pretend it never happened and don't touch that kind of thing again."

"But----"

"Don't tell me you want to get it back?"

Harry quickly waved his hand: "Of course not, you're making it sound so dangerous, I'm not crazy—I'm worried about Crevy."

Beside her, Hermione frowned slightly: "You mean the strange smell you detected on Crevy means that Crevy found the notebook?"

Harry nodded: "Very likely—"

Although Colin Crevey has been bothering him lately, disrupting his daily studies and life, and completely disregarding his feelings.

But no matter how despicable they are, they shouldn't be entangled in a dangerous dark magic item.

According to Ron, that could be deadly!

After hearing Harry's words, Ron and Hermione also felt that they made sense, but—they didn't know what to do for a moment.

Actually, Hermione had some feasible solutions. She suggested, "I recommend telling the professors about the notebook. They're adult wizards and teachers; they'll definitely think things through more thoroughly than we do!"

This suggestion was not unexpected for Harry and Ron, because Hermione was such a good girl.

Normally, Harry and Ron should also have supported it.

But this time they didn't want to.

"We can't say!" Ron was the first to stop him. "Harry brought the notebook into the castle. If it really is a Dark Magic item, what will the professors think of Harry? What will people outside think of Hogwarts?"

"Harry was unaware of it."

"Don't be silly, Hermione. Vaughn just wanted to start a werewolf class, and he only used harmless giant wolves in the practical lessons. He's been questioned by the Board of Governors and the Ministry of Magic ever since. Some people are eager to pin the blame on him. With his example, you don't still think those adults will reason with you, do you?"

Ok?

Harry stared at Ron in astonishment. Was this the kind of logic Ron could come up with?

Unbelievable!

Hermione was also somewhat surprised. To be honest, after hearing Ron's example of Vaughn, she really hesitated—because she had personally experienced the conflict between Vaughn and the Ministry of Magic, and she also knew that the Ministry of Magic, or more precisely, Cornelius Fudge, was very hostile to Vaughn and Dumbledore.

Once news broke that dark magic items had appeared at Hogwarts, she felt that the Minister would definitely seize the opportunity to attack Hogwarts, Dumbledore, and Vaughn!

In the face of politics, Harry's title of "savior" might not even be worth a penny!

"Then—tell Vaughn?" she suggested again, which, in her opinion, was the best solution besides the professors.

This time it was Harry's turn to object: "No—I don't want him to know until the notebook is sorted out—"

Harry said with a somewhat embarrassed expression.

Hermione and Ron looked at each other in bewilderment.

Why?

Harry rubbed his trouser seams tightly, hesitating for a long time before finally confessing his inner thoughts about why he had chosen to hide the notebook from Vaughn when he was in the Burrow, whether out of jealousy or fear.

A moment later, Hermione stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

"You'll have to figure it out yourselves. I can't help someone who's wary of their friends!"

Hermione was really angry.

Harry was absolutely certain of this.

The girl didn't say a word to him or Ron that night. This time it wasn't even a cold war. During a cold war, Hermione would at least respond when she tried to talk to him.

This time, Hermione completely avoided him and didn't even want to see him.

Harry knew the fault lay entirely with him; he had been blinded by jealousy, which had hurt Hermione's feelings. After all, Hermione and Vaughn were a couple.

In fact, not only Hermione, but Ron was also a little unhappy about this. After all, Vaughn was his brother, and he could be jealous of Vaughn and speak ill of him.

But if someone else did that, he would also feel offended.

Although he didn't say anything out of consideration for their friendship, Harry could sense that Ron still harbored some resentment towards him.

Just like that night before going to sleep, Ron turned his back to him and said, "Harry, Vaughn helped you a lot last semester. He taught you Occlumency, and he was the one who stood with us against Quirrell, against—Vanity Fairy, do you remember?"

"----Remember."

"That's good----"

Harry didn't know what to say next, he just felt very sad.

He began to wonder if he had chosen the wrong time. His intention in confessing was to divert attention from the conflict between Hermione and Ron and mend the rift in their friendship.

In retrospect, the attempt to shift the blame was undoubtedly successful, but perhaps a little too successful.

However, if he had to do it all over again, he would still do the same thing.

It wasn't just to shift the blame and "sacrifice" himself; it was also because he genuinely sensed danger!

During the time Harry lost the notebook, he often recalled the days when he "communicated" with it, and he gradually realized that something was wrong.

For example, his confession to Hermione and Ron about his jealousy of Vaughn during that time.

Harry knew that jealousy towards Vaughn shouldn't and couldn't possibly exist in him!

As Ron said, Vaughn had done enough for him. Last year, when he was kicked off the bus by his Uncle Vernon and was all alone, dragging his huge suitcase, not knowing how to get to Platform 9¾, it was Vaughn who extended a friendly hand to him.

When he was wandering around on the Hogwarts Express, unsure of where to go, it was Vaughn who stepped in.

In the wizarding world, the first warmth he felt from his peers came from Vaughn. In contrast, Ron and Hermione were newcomers, and their acquaintance and familiarity with him was also due to Vaughn.

Harry didn't understand many grand principles; he only knew that even when he first enrolled last year and his ego was at its peak because of the title "Savior," he never felt any malice towards such a person.

Because he knew very well that everyone else, including Ron, initially played with him because he was "Harry Potter," the "boy who survived," the protagonist of the stories they had heard since childhood.

They have a biased view of him, and they have expectations and worship that don't belong to him.

Only Vaughn.

Vaughn never treated him any differently, nor did he ever look at him with any strange eyes. Vaughn never cared about the honors he felt he didn't deserve, such as "savior."

It may sound strange, but the most relaxing days Harry had experienced since enrolling at Hogwarts were the time when he was being trained by Vaughn and taught Occlumency.

Despite Vaughn's constant torment, Harry was certain that he and Vaughn were just friends and that Vaughn wasn't trying to get anything out of him.

Harry cherishes this purity!

But looking back on the time when he received the notebook, Harry realized that he had completely ignored his own inner conviction and appreciation for it.

"I wasn't myself during that period!"

This idea was originally just a slight doubt in his mind.

But when he realized that the familiar "smell" that Colin Crevey unexpectedly showed up in Monday's practical class came from his notebook, his doubts turned into vigilance!

In a daze, he seemed to see an invisible net wrapping around him.

Therefore, his request for Hermione to help him improve his magical abilities was not entirely an excuse.

He genuinely had that need, and that need intensified after learning that the notebook was a dark magic item!

pity----

"I wonder if Hermione can be appeased this time?"

Filled with worry, Harry tossed and turned in bed for a long time before finally falling into a deep sleep late into the night.

Before falling asleep, he was still regretting that he could only go to see Hagrid with Ron in the morning. Without Hermione, how were he and Ron supposed to refuse Hagrid's rock cake?

Then, after sleeping for only about three or four hours, Harry was woken up by violent shaking.

Opening his aching, sleepy eyes, Harry vaguely saw a tall, disheveled figure standing in front of his bed.

Harry felt a chill run down his spine and quickly sat up: "Who?"

"It's me!"

The figure spoke a familiar voice belonging to Wood, but it was hoarse and dry, as if he hadn't drunk water in a long time.

Harry pulled his wand from under his pillow:

"Lumo!"

In the dim glow emanating from the tip of the wand, Harry saw that the man was indeed Wood, dressed in a neat uniform, with a brand-new Quaffle tucked under his arm.

But his appearance was terrible. Disheveled and filthy were not enough to describe it. Not only did several strands of hair grow in different directions, but his eyes were also swollen with dark circles and narrowed slits. At first glance, he looked like two crepes.

"Wood, what's wrong with you looking like that?"

Seeing Wood's appearance, Harry's worry outweighed his confusion about why the other was there. Judging from his appearance, he had no doubt that the other might suddenly die in front of him at any moment.

Of course, Wood was still in high spirits. His bloodshot eyes were wide open, and every muscle in his face spoke of excitement and fervor: "Get up, Harry, come with me to Quidditch training!"

"----Now?"

Harry turned to look out the window. It was the darkest time of day, and the Forbidden Forest and the sky were almost indistinguishable.

"Yes, Harry, I've been up for 30 hours straight and have finalized our tactics for this semester. We need to practice them as soon as possible, immediately!"

"My God, Wood, it's not even dawn yet—"

"Isn't this the best time to train? Breathing in the dewy morning air, letting every breath of fresh air nourish our muscles and bones—ah—I can already feel the heat of youth!"

A sneeze!

The cold wind blew in through the window in the early morning, and Harry sneezed. He didn't feel hot, and he suspected that Wood had a fever and his brain was fried.