HP: Azkaban's Outstanding Graduate

"This time it's an ice activity, madam," a Gryffindor student with his face covered in ice shavings said excitedly. "It's much more fun than the last 'tunnel warfare' game! At least we won't get covered in mud."

Ms. Pomfrey snorted and turned to Alke, who was tidying up bandages, saying, “Could you please go to the storeroom and get some more white saffron, and while you’re at it, tell Dumbledore that if next month’s budget unfortunately goes over budget—” she paused meaningfully, “—he knows who to hold responsible.”

Since Professor Lumina came to Hogwarts, she has been forced to work overtime every now and then because of her "teaching". Fortunately, she has a few senior students to help her, so she is not too busy.

In the castle corridor, Hermione, carrying a book, was caught up by Harry and Ron.

"Why are you running?" Ron stopped her, panting. "You're the champion! They're even saying they want to throw you a small victory party in the lounge!"

Hermione hugged the book tighter, her ears turning red: "That's too much... It was just a temporary track test."

"Exaggerated?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "You just conjured up a spiral roller coaster track on the ice; no one could match you!"

“It’s not as amazing as you say,” Hermione said as she walked. “I just learned some basic skating skills at a Muggle rink when I was a kid.”

“Seriously,” Ron leaned in, his face full of genuine amazement, “I think you could make the Quidditch team right now!”

Hermione shook her head repeatedly upon hearing this, a few strands of her curly hair swaying slightly. "That's completely different! Today, I observed the course layout beforehand and had a plan in mind. Quidditch requires real improvisation, dealing with the movement of the ball and collisions with opponents. And..."

She paused, lowered her voice, and said with a hint of embarrassment, "You know, my flying broom... I'm not very good at using it."

“Okay,” Ron shrugged, then his eyes lit up. “But speaking of flying, did you guys notice just now? When Professor Lumina took flight, she didn’t use a broom at all! She just 'whoosh'ed away!”

"It's very similar to Professor Greengrass's magic!"

"Uh, Professor Greengrass? Which magic?"

“The same spell he used when he first appeared in the Forbidden Forest last year,” Hermione said with unusual certainty. “Although the form of the shadow is somewhat different, the core principle is absolutely highly similar!”

"What does this mean?" Ron asked blankly.

“That means they probably knew each other before,” Hermione said confidently. “That’s why Professor Lumina asked Professor Greengrass to help freeze the lake, and he actually did.”

“Now that you mention it… it does seem to make sense.” Ron nodded thoughtfully. “That’s why Mr. Lochteis is so familiar with her.”

"Do you think we'll have a chance to learn this magic?" Harry suddenly asked. "I've never experienced flying without a broom before, that would be amazing!"

“Oh? Is that so?” Ron immediately nudged Harry with his elbow with a grin. “I remember you fell from a fifty-foot broom in a Quidditch match. It must have felt similar to this magic.”

Harry, whose sore spot had been hit, couldn't help but laugh: "Screw you, Ron! That felt awful! I was talking about controlled flight!"

Chapter 160 Slytherin Has a Successor

“But seriously, Hermione,” Harry said, his smile fading and his eyes gleaming with eagerness, “do you think we have a chance to learn that magic?”

Hermione packed the heavy book into a small bottle, her expression serious: "That looks like very advanced magic, maybe even unique to the professor. He probably won't teach it to you easily."

"Is there absolutely no chance?" Ron asked. "Perhaps Professor Lumina would be willing to teach us?"

Hermione glanced at Harry and Ron's longing faces. "I think it's unlikely, but you can try, of course."

“Listen to that, what lofty ambitions!” A cold, mocking female voice suddenly came from the shadows of the archway beside them.

Pansy Parkinson walked out with her arms crossed, accompanied by several Slytherin students.

Bryce Zabini leaned lazily against the stone wall, while Crabbe blocked half of the corridor like a mountain of flesh.

"Someone who won a game by cramming at the last minute and using Muggle tricks dares to covet the professors' profound magic."

“Indeed,” Zabini replied lazily, a fake smile playing on his lips. “Granger, your little tricks are nothing but attention-seeking gimmicks. What, you really think that performing a juggling act on the ice will make the professor look at you differently?”

Harry immediately stepped forward, blocking Hermione's path: "Mind your own business. Instead of causing trouble here, go back and practice some spells—if you remember how to pronounce them."

"Trying to show off, Potter?" The six men opposite turned their attention to Harry. "You like meddling in other people's business, don't you?"

Hermione's face was a little pale, but she stood ramrod straight, meeting Pansy's gaze without flinching: "How well I perform is for the professors to judge. As for what I want to study, that's my freedom, and it's none of your business."

"Ha, listen to this, it has nothing to do with us!"

Pansy exaggeratedly clutched her chest, and the Slytherins burst into laughter. "Has Miss Know-It-All forgotten even basic manners?"

"Shut up!" Ron's face flushed crimson, and he stepped forward to shield Hermione. "Hermione relies on her own true talent and ability; everyone at Hogwarts knows that—"

"Get away from me, you penniless Weasley." Pansy Parkinson took a half-step back with a look of disgust. "Are you trying to show off like Potter?"

The six Slytherins burst into laughter, and Ron's ears turned red. He was furious and wanted to rush over, but Harry and Hermione held him back tightly.

"Calm down, Ron!"

“Let me beat her up,” Ron said angrily. “I don’t care. I don’t need a wand; I can kill her with my bare hands—”

“Kill who? Me?” Pansy smiled smugly and turned to look at the group behind her. “Hey, did you hear that? Weasley said he’s going to kill me.”

"Haha!" Crabbe and the others burst into laughter again.

But Ron gradually calmed down when Harry slipped his dueling badge into his hand, which brought him back to his senses.

"What exactly do you want? Do you want a duel?" Harry looked at the group opposite him and said coldly, "Then you'd better hurry up and ask the professor for permission, since the three of us can't fight against people ranked lower than us."

"What did you say?" Crabbe stepped forward, his thick knuckles cracking. "Say it again!"

"What? Want to fight?" Harry gestured with his chin at Crabbe. "I'm ready anytime, but I'd like to ask, do the six of you have half of our dueling points combined?"

“I guess not!” Ron chimed in, casually drawing his wand.

Just as tensions were about to rise, Hermione reached out and pulled Harry and Ron back, her tone softening, "Let's go, they're all talk and no action."

She had already seen through their intentions—to provoke them into breaking the rules so that the three of them would be punished.

The Slytherins' expressions immediately turned ugly; as expected, none of them were willing to issue a formal challenge, which made Harry and Ron reveal a disdainful smile.

The three prepared to leave, but the Slytherin members continued to block the passageway.

“Let’s go another way, this is a dead end!” Pansy continued to provoke, taking a step closer, the surrounding air seeming to chill several degrees. “Muggle-born mud bastards are especially unwelcome…”

“Pansy!” Zabini suddenly called out in a low voice, his tone carrying a hint of warning, abruptly interrupting her. Crabbe also suppressed his smile slightly.

However, it was too late.

Ron's wand instantly pointed at Pansy, its tip trembling with rage. Harry gripped his wand tightly, his knuckles white, his eyes blazing with fury.

Hermione bit her lip hard, but she didn't react immediately. Instead, she stared at Pansy with a chillingly cold gaze.

“Speak!” She pushed aside Harry and Ron, ignored the mountain of Crabbe, and walked straight up to Pansy.

“Say it!” Hermione stared straight at her. “Let me see what happens to you!”

Pansy Parkinson's expression changed, as if she was recalling Malfoy, who had been locked up for a month and was a completely different person afterwards.

In the end, she just snorted loudly through her nose and turned her face away.

"We'll see!" the Slytherin members said sullenly, turning to leave.

But Hermione was faster.

With a flick of her wrist, her wand pointed precisely at two suits of armor on either side of the corridor. The two suits of armor immediately came to life, stepping forward to block the path of the six people opposite.

"What are you doing?!" Pansy turned around abruptly, screaming fiercely but inwardly weakly.

"Apologize!" Hermione's voice was as cold as ice. "Or you'll regret it."

"Regret? You think you can?" Pan Xi forced a mocking laugh.

Hermione didn't answer, but suddenly pointed the tip of her wand at Pansy, her lips moving silently and rapidly.

This sudden action startled Pansy, who shrank back in fright: "What...what did you do to me?!"

"You'll find out soon enough," Hermione said coldly, then, without glancing at them again, grabbed Harry and Ron by the arms and forced her way through the six people who were standing frozen in place.

"What did you do to her?" Ron couldn't help but glance back after taking only a few steps, and asked urgently in a low voice.

“Sleepiness evaporated!” Hermione whispered.

"Ah!" The two boys opened their mouths wide, and then suddenly burst into laughter.

"You're amazing, Hermione!" Both of them gave the little witch a thumbs up.

"Let her experience what it's like to not be able to sleep for ten days or half a month." Hermione raised her chin and pulled them away quickly, disappearing around the corner of the corridor.

Last time, Hermione used "Sleep Evaporation" on the three of them without learning "Wake Up Soothing".

Just three days later, the three of them looked like ghosts whose life force had been drained—their eyes were bloodshot and their tempers were frighteningly volatile.

Ron blew a hole in Neville's cauldron during Potions class, simply because Neville accidentally touched his sleeve.

During Quidditch practice, Harry flew into a rage at the ball and nearly threw Fred's bat off the pitch.

Even Hermione, who is usually calm, yelled at Mrs. Pince in the library, scaring a group of first-year students half to death.

In the end, Hermione, exhausted, forced herself to go to Professor Greengrass, and that's how the problem was solved.

Not long after that, Hermione finally mastered the spell "Wake Up and Soothe the Soul".

That's when the three of them started their grueling, all-consuming journey.

Of course, Harry and Ron would occasionally slack off and sleep in, but Hermione, apart from necessary rest, was unwilling to relax for even a moment.

Chapter 161 The Adventures of Peeves

Sagres was hurrying to the classroom, carrying a heavy copy of "Introduction to Magic".

But as soon as he turned a corner into a dark corner piled with armor, he was frozen in place by the bizarre scene before him.

The already dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts were now undergoing a disastrous "cleaning show."

Filch's prized automatic mop, supposedly magically modified by a falcon, was tirelessly performing its duties.

The metal joint where the wooden handle and mop head meet makes a soft creaking sound as it pushes and pulls repeatedly on the ancient stone floor with an almost rigid enthusiasm.

However, its hard work does not bring cleanliness.

Quite the opposite.

Every time the mop head swept across the floor, it left not watermarks, but a thick, winding trail of pitch-black ink!

These ink marks, like ugly vines that have come to life, spread wantonly across the gray-white stone bricks, turning the originally solemn corridor into a huge and clumsy abstract painting.

The air was filled with the distinctive, pungent smell of fresh ink.

“This is…” Sagres narrowed his eyes.