Hogwarts: Please, Just Graduate Already!

The two of them combined had brains only about the size of a troll's, so even they thought it made sense and actually stopped helping. Like the other little snakes and lions, they stood there cheering for their respective leader.

Finally, Professor McGonagall arrived. The little wizards gathered around immediately scattered like frightened birds and beasts, hiding far away while watching the show.

When she saw this eye-searing scene, Professor McGonagall nearly fainted from anger. "Potter! Malfoy!" "Let go of each other!"

Only then did the two of them finally release each other reluctantly, though their eyes remained tenderly fixed on one another as they fiercely conversed with the women on each other's family trees in their hearts.

"How dare you!" McGonagall was now like an enraged lion, and Harry and Malfoy lowered their heads, trembling.

"This is only the second week of term! You actually started fighting in the Great Hall, in front of so many people!"

"Points deducted! Thirty points from each House!" "And detention!"

Ron couldn't help standing up for Harry. "Professor, it was Malfoy—" "I didn't ask you, Mr. Weasley. No reason whatsoever is an excuse for fighting in public!"

One look from McGonagall made Ron shut up.

Just then, Professor Snape received the news and hurried over. His expression was so gloomy it looked as if water might drip from it, and he gave Malfoy an exasperated look.

If the student who had fought Potter hadn't been from his own House, he could have tormented Potter to death this time.

"Come to my office at seven tonight and deal with the toad corpses. Your detention ends when the job is finished."

Snape decided on the content of their detention, and Professor McGonagall did not object.

Seeing that there was no more excitement to watch, everyone finally dispersed. Wayne found Hermione. "What happened? Why did those two start fighting?"

The little witch shook her head. "I don't know. I was in the library at the time. I only came running over after everyone else."

It seemed that even a top student couldn't escape the curiosity of joining in the gossip.

Just then, the twins finished getting the information from Ron and came over, grinning.

"We know. Malfoy thought Harry had been expelled, so he kept mocking him and calling him Scarhead. They argued and argued, and then they started throwing punches."

"That was all?" Wayne curled his lip. He'd thought there would be some truly juicy news.

"It's finally over. It was a complete nightmare."

On Friday afternoon, after two Potions lessons, Toby wore an expression like a survivor of some disaster.

During class just now, he had dumped the Pixie's droppings directly into his cauldron without processing them first. Snape had given him a thorough tongue-lashing and deducted five points.

With the gap between Hufflepuff and Slytherin down to eighty points, Snape had also begun intensifying his efforts. Ingredients added at the wrong time? Points deducted. Cauldron temperature too low? Points deducted. Workbench not cleaned properly? Points deducted.

By the end of one lesson, Hufflepuff had lost more than ten points outright.

"Why doesn't Headmistress Sprout show us some favoritism?" Hannah asked, somewhat puzzled, as she walked beside Wayne.

"She already favors us plenty." Susan Bones reminded her in a low voice, "Every weekend, Professor Sprout finds someone to help in the greenhouses, and most of them are from our House." "She usually gives us a few points for it."

"A few points aren't enough." Hannah gave a wise little snort. "We should learn from Professor Snape and deduct all the other Houses' points. Then we'd be in first place."

Wayne glanced at her.

Girl, you have the makings of an assassin.

The little badgers and little eagles left the castle and came to the lawn for their Flying lesson. Even though Neville had broken his wrist yesterday, it hadn't dampened everyone's enthusiasm in the slightest.

No one thought they could possibly be stupider than Neville. Aside from Herbology, most people couldn't see any potential for becoming a wizard in Neville at all.

They didn't have to wait long before Madam Hooch arrived. She used her wand to make several large crates float behind her, all of them filled with flying broomsticks.

Her expression was unusually stern. Yesterday's farce had clearly given her quite a fright as well. The Hogwarts teaching staff really could be described as a mixed bag. There were good teachers like Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, and Professor Flitwick.

There was also a Potions expert like Snape, whose professional ability was extremely strong but whose mouth was as venomous as a snake's.

And then there was Trelawney, a teacher who was basically useless except when she was putting on a performance. It could only be described as a gathering of demons running wild.

Clearly, Madam Hooch wasn't a qualified teacher either.

When students flew into the sky without permission, all she could do was shout and scream, then wait until someone was about to fall to their death before sending them to the hospital wing.

At that level, she could only really serve as a referee. Still, Madam Hooch had clearly learned her lesson today.

The opening steps were the same. She had the little wizards call their broomsticks and wait for them to leap into their hands.

Wayne succeeded on his first try. Some of the others' broomsticks hopped a little, while others rolled across the ground.

If they called a few more times, the broomsticks would even impatiently smack them.

It took more than ten minutes before everyone had managed to get a broomstick into their hands.

Next, Madam Hooch had everyone put their broomsticks down and began instructing them one by one.

Although it was slow, it was at least much safer this way.

To her relief, everyone was generally untalented, but there were no signs of anyone losing control.

At last, it was Wayne's turn.

Chapter Forty-Three: Meeting Cho Chang Again, Harry Is Going to Duel Malfoy?

Wayne didn't try anything fancy. He honestly followed the steps Madam Hooch had taught them and took off.

He valued his life, and the school's flying broomsticks were all antiques from thirty or forty years ago. Who knew whether one might fall apart?

It was safer to fly lower. If anything really happened, he would have time to react. Unlike what he had imagined, sitting on the broom didn't produce any painful sensation of wind blowing against his backside. Instead, it felt as if there were a soft, invisible cushion beneath him.

It wasn't as uncomfortable as it looked.

Because of their age, these broomsticks weren't very fast. Still, flying through the sky and freely changing direction according to his thoughts felt excellent.

Wayne flew around for a while without encountering any problems. Madam Hooch relaxed and began instructing the next student.

Gradually, more little wizards appeared in the sky. Most of them weren't flying very high, merely leaving the ground.

They were nowhere near as impressive as they had bragged beforehand.

Wayne's two roommates had never touched a flying broomstick before and were even bigger rookies. They clamped the broomsticks between their legs and ran back and forth along the ground, pretending they were flying.

Lisa Turpin of Ravenclaw accidentally slid off her broomstick, and several more of its already sparse tail hairs were rubbed off.

Wayne grew more skilled the longer he flew, and gradually climbed higher and higher. From above, he saw a girl looking at him with a smile. Wayne descended and came before her. "Cho, what are you doing here?"

The girl was none other than Cho Chang of Ravenclaw. Another girl stood beside her, looking curiously from Cho to Wayne and back again, her expression ambiguous.

"We don't have class this afternoon, so Marietta and I came out for a walk." The girl smiled openly, revealing two adorable dimples.

"This is your first Flying lesson, right? You seem to have a real talent for it. Maybe you can join the Quidditch team someday."

"Oh, right. I forgot to introduce you."

She reached toward the girl beside her. "This is Marietta Edgecombe, my good friend."

Wayne nodded. "Hello, I'm Wayne Lawrence, a first-year Hufflepuff."

He recognized the name. In the original story, Marietta was the one who betrayed Harry and Dumbledore's Army by informing Umbridge, which led to Dumbledore being driven out afterward.

From Harry's perspective, or from an omniscient viewpoint, Marietta had clearly acted dishonorably and become a complete traitor.

But what if you put yourself in Marietta's shoes? What would you do? Both her parents worked at the Ministry of Magic, and Umbridge used that to threaten her. How could an underage girl possibly withstand that kind of pressure?

It could only be said that different perspectives led to different attitudes toward the same matter.

Wayne didn't develop any ill feelings toward her.

"I know you. You're the little first-year genius." Marietta smiled. "Professor Flitwick said the Sorting Hat must have made a mistake. A little wizard as clever as you should have gone to Ravenclaw."

Wayne said helplessly, "According to Professor Flitwick, Percy Weasley, Cedric, and even Granger should all go to Ravenclaw. The other professors would definitely give him trouble then."

The three of them all laughed.

Then he looked at Cho again. "The Quidditch tryouts should have started, right? How did it go? Did you make the team?"

The moment Quidditch was mentioned, Cho became noticeably more excited.

"I did! I was chosen as Ravenclaw's Seeker, and I'm even a starter!" "Congratulations. You have to go easy on Hufflepuff when we meet next time."

Cho covered her lips and giggled. "Not a chance. I'm definitely going to catch the Golden Snitch."

The two chatted for a few more minutes. Since class was still in session, Wayne couldn't openly slack off any longer and left.

"Stop staring. He's already gone." Cho's eyes were still fixed on the boy's retreating back, and Marietta teased her:

"Wow, you managed to hook up with the most handsome first-year so quickly. Come on, tell me how you two met."

Cho rolled her eyes at her friend. Why does she have to put it so crudely? Yet the scene of their first meeting floated into her mind—Wayne using Wandless Casting.

"Wayne, who's that? She's so pretty." Toby and Norman put down their broomsticks and came over.

Quite a few girls nearby pricked up their ears, eager for gossip.

"What does it have to do with you? Get back to training. Anyone who didn't know better would think you two were flightless chickens."

Both boys drooped their heads.

They seemed to have absolutely no talent for flying. They had even secretly picked up their broomsticks themselves.

Madam Hooch tried several times as well, but could only shake her head and send them off to play somewhere else.

Wayne ignored his two clownish roommates and continued riding his broomstick around for fun.

"What? Malfoy wants to duel you?"

In the Gryffindor common room, Ron stared at Harry in astonishment.

"Keep your voice down." Harry hurriedly glanced around. Only after seeing that no one was paying attention to them did he let out a sigh of relief.

"What exactly is a wizard's duel like?" Harry asked nervously. "He also told me to bring an assistant. What's that about?"

"An assistant?" Ron stuffed a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean into his mouth, and his face twisted into a grimace.

Damn it, it's carrot-flavored.

"If you or Malfoy falls, the assistant takes over until one side is completely unable to fight."

"I reckon Malfoy's assistant will be either Crabbe or Goyle."

Harry felt a chill and hurriedly asked, "Ron, can you be my assistant?"

"Of course. I've wanted to teach Malfoy a lesson for ages." Ron became excited as well.

"Neither of us knows much magic. At most, we can make the other guy's nose bleed. In the end, we'll still have to rely on our fists."

"Then it's settled."

The two of them discussed their strategy. Ron was stronger than Harry, so Harry would hold Malfoy down while Ron beat him up.

They would deal with Crabbe or Goyle first if necessary. Harry had learned this technique from Dudley: when fighting, pin one person down and beat them half to death.

"When are you dueling?" Ron asked at last.

"Next Friday, in the Trophy Room on the second floor."

Both of them would be in detention for the next few days, so they could only postpone it. Harry thought that wasn't bad, though. He could use the week to learn a few spells.

"That's so cool. It's at night."

Ron rubbed his hands excitedly. Not only could he beat up Malfoy, but he could also sneak around the castle at night.

He had been wanting to do that for ages.

What the two of them didn't notice was that Hermione, sitting not far away with her head bent over her homework, had heard their entire conversation. She pressed her lips together!

Chapter Forty-Four: The Shock Brought by a Phoenix!

In the blink of an eye, Monday arrived again.

Early that morning, the little wizards came to the dining hall for breakfast. Harry looked somewhat exhausted because, after joining the Quidditch team, he hadn't gotten any proper rest over the weekend.

Wood had dragged him through training during the day, and he still had to serve detention at night.

Harry now hated Snape more than anyone else, with Malfoy coming second. Even his Dudley ranked behind those two.

The doors to the Great Hall suddenly opened, and a noisy commotion came from outside, as if hundreds of birds were flapping their wings.

The little wizards were already used to it. They quickly piled food into their bowls and pulled them close to protect them.

Before long, flocks of owls flew in, tossing letters and packages into the recipients' arms or into nearby bowls of soup, leaving a complete mess behind.

The twins secretly hid their packages. They contained Dungbombs and Nosebleed Nougats they had bought at Zonko's Joke Shop, and Professor McGonagall absolutely couldn't see them.

Harry also picked up that day's Daily Prophet and began reading. "Screeech!"

Just then, a birdcall suddenly rang out of nowhere. The owls trembled in fear, and two of those flying overhead dropped straight into the soup.

Everyone looked up, searching for the source of the sound.

A streak of fire suddenly appeared in midair. Then, flying out from within the flames, came a—