Veratia, Cassandra, and Potter (12,000 Words)

The Map Chamber fell into a long silence.

Even though Veratia had known the portraits of the three professors for over a hundred years, she had never told them about her past.

However... the inheritors of Ancient Magic do indeed have one or another... shortcomings, or rather, flaws.

Squib is just one type of one.

Given the customs of that era, and the fact that Veratia came from a Pure-blood family, her childhood must have been difficult.

Even in today's more enlightened society, most wizarding families still cannot accept the fact that their child is a Squib.

For a moment, the Map Chamber fell silent.

Even Professor Rackham didn't try to lighten the mood with a joke; instead, he stood silently in the photo frame.

It took Veratia a long time to recover from her daze.

"That was... Christmas in 1888," Veratia said softly.

Nurmengard Castle.

Gellert Grindelwald sat in front of the fireplace, gazing intently at the snow-capped Alps in the distance.

Even after being defeated by Dumbledore and imprisoned in Nurmengard, he still retained a considerable degree of autonomy.

Aside from not being able to leave Nurmengard Castle, it's still possible to meet some old friends here.

This is the Western custom, and it can be considered a form of dignity—just like how Napoleon retained a considerable amount of freedom when he was first exiled.

"How's Vera doing?" he asked casually, reaching out to stroke the owl's chin.

"You have successfully entered Hogwarts, sir," replied the white-bearded wizard who was standing behind you.

Gellert pondered for a moment and then instructed, "Give that... that writer a lot more hair growth potion, and remember not to cut off Vera's hair."

"Yes, sir," the white-bearded wizard nodded.

"I have a feeling..." Gellert's silvery-white eyes darted around, just like Mad-Eye Moody's.

He covered his eyes and waited patiently for a moment.

"Call..."

"Sir, what's wrong?" the white-bearded wizard asked.

"My eyes hurt a little, but it's nothing serious," Gellert said softly. "It tells me that my sister is coming back..."

"Sister?" Everyone in the room was stunned.

They had never heard the man mention that he had an older sister.

"Yes, sister..."

Gellert murmured a few words.

He took the wand from someone nearby and stroked it carefully.

After a while, he left the room, went down the steps, and headed towards the underground prison.

Even in summer, Nurmengard Castle, nestled in the mountains, remains somewhat cold and gloomy, especially in its dungeons, which are dark and damp, perfectly matching the stereotypes about it.

Gellert strode briskly into the dungeon on his left.

In the dungeon, there were several bed-like planks, on which lay three dazed witches.

When they saw Gellert walk in, they whimpered and began to beg for mercy.

"You know what, Wilhelmine," Gellert whispered, "your sister is coming back—"

Upon hearing Gellert's words, the witch named Wilhelmine's eyes widened instantly.

"But you don't need to worry. More than a hundred years have passed. You may not suffer the same fate as the Hydra. Perhaps my sister has already forgotten about you trash. Don't you think so, Wilhelmine Grindelwald?"

"Please, please, Gellert, I'm your cousin—"

"Beg me..." Gellert casually toyed with his wand. "If only you had—oh well, never mind, it's a waste of my time to tell you. Let's start today's lesson."

He slowly pointed his wand at Wilhelmine in front of him, and a red light emanated from the tip of the wand.

The last thing Wilhelmine heard was a gentle, lover-like whisper of incantation.

"Crucio!"

Vienna, 1888.

Since the passing of the elder Mr. and Mrs. Grindelwald, life has become increasingly difficult for the Grindelwald family.

The fact that the eldest daughter Verathea Grindelwald, was Squib in Nurmengard Castle was undoubtedly a disgrace to the entire Grindelwald family.

Even though the elder Mr. and Mrs. Grindelwald were always protecting their daughter, some gossip still reached Verathea's ears.

Fortunately, Veratia's aunt was Princess Sisi, so even if she couldn't become a wizard, she could learn how to be a lady-in-waiting by following her aunt's side.

However, in the eyes of wizards, engaging in worldly affairs and associating with Muggle is a degenerate thing, even if Veratia is Squib.

This is especially true for Pure-blood families like the Grindelwald family, who adhere to this principle even more.

Christmas is a time for family reunions. Princess Sisi was a kind woman. She understood the difficulties her niece faced in raising her younger brother alone, so she arranged a holiday for her early on and even gave her an extra bonus so that their days wouldn't be so hard.

Even though her niece was forgetful and couldn't do anything right, Princess Sisi tolerated her minor flaws out of consideration for her mother's sisterly bond.

However, rumors began to circulate in the palace about "the clumsy Grindelwald".

"Hey, isn't that Squib Vera?"

A sarcastic voice sounded behind her.

It was her cousin, Hydra Grindelwald.

Veratia didn't reply, but walked quickly forward, with the beef her aunt had given her to take home and share with Gellert in her arms.

Seeing that Veratia didn't reply, Hydra smiled with a hint of contempt.

She wasn't angry. Behind her were five or six girls of similar age, walking behind Veratia.

They didn't dare go too far, after all, Vienna also had court magistrates.

"Let me see, you must be carrying some beef you stole from the palace, Squib Vera?"

Veratia pretended not to hear; she was used to it—over the years, ever since she was declared Squib at age eleven, she had endured enough cold stares and ridicule.

"Did you steal something from the palace again?" Hydra stepped forward, followed by several girls of similar age.

"Holding her so tightly, it must be Hydra," said a freckled girl standing nearby.

"Oh, thank you for your eagle eyes, Isabelle," Hydra said without turning her head.

"I'm calling you, did you hear me?"

Hydra said it again.

Veratia lowered her head, trying not to hear the sarcastic remarks. All she wanted was to take the food she had in her arms and go home to spend her younger brother's first Christmas without their parents.

"That's really rude of you, ' Grindelwald who's always almost late,' that's your new nickname today, isn't it?" Hydra said with a grin.

Veratia didn't stop; she didn't want to get entangled with these sisters who were bullying her because she was a Squib.

"Yes, that's true," Hydra seemed to mutter in his sleep. "Don't you want to know who hid your shoes?"

Veratia paused for a moment, but wasn't surprised.

Having served as a lady-in-waiting to her aunt for over a year, she often found herself missing something—even though she would double-check before each trip.

He was forgetful and misplaced, so he got scolded by his aunt...

She understood that her sisters couldn't stand her associating with Muggle, even though it was Muggle royalty.

"Muggle Princess, look what this is!" Hydra said, waving her hand.

Veratia stopped and turned around, noticing that Hydra was holding a piece of beef.

Hydra smiled contemptuously, sharing the beef with the girls around him, and eating a piece himself.

"I must say, the Muggle royal chefs are indeed quite skilled," Hydra commented. "But for Squib like you, who has stooped so low as to mingle with Muggle, to be able to enjoy such delicious food..."

As she spoke, she threw the beef in her hand on the ground, stomped on it hard with her foot, and even twisted it forcefully, trying to stomp the beef into the snowdrift.

Veratia watched Hydra's actions with a calm expression, as if she were looking at something that had nothing to do with her.

"I really hate her act. She's so pretentious, like she's some kind of princess," Isabelle said from behind.

"Oh, don't say that," a bespectacled girl behind them said sarcastically. "Her aunt is the Queen; she was born to be a princess—our Muggle Princess Your Highness."

"Oh, thank you, Wilhelmine," Hydra replied casually, then said to Veratia, "Listen, Squib Vera, this is your last warning... as long as you're still working for Muggle, we won't let you off the hook—understand? This is just a little lesson for you!"

After saying that, she turned around and left with her girlfriends without looking back.

Veratia squatted on the ground and picked up the beef piece by piece.

"It's a pity we can't eat it now," she seemed to be muttering to herself.

Fortunately, there was still some left in my arms.

Back home—that temporary home—she lost her right to inherit Nurmengard Castle along with Gellert because she was Squib and both her parents had passed away.

According to the Grindelwald family rules, only formal wizards have the right to inherit the family business—and Veratia, being Squib, is naturally ineligible; Gellert is still young and has heterochromia, so he has no right to inherit the family business either.

Veratia struggled to start a fire, and the smoke made her cough.

"What are we having for dinner tonight, sis?" Gellert asked, leaning against the doorframe, looking bewildered.

"Beef," Veratia said succinctly. She took out some ingredients from the cupboard at home and added a few side dishes for Gellert.

Under the dim light, the girl carefully cooked the ingredients in the pot.

"Gellert, go and light the candles," Veratia said.

"Okay." Gellert obediently ran to the dining table and lit the candles one by one.

In no time, Veratia quickly set out a table of food.

"Eat," she said simply.

Gellert noticed her sister's unusual expression and asked worriedly, "Sister, did they bully you again?"

"No, not at all." Veratia took a small bite of her black bread, her face expressionless. "Eat your food in peace."

"No, it must be!" Gellert exclaimed, recalling the snow marks on his sister's knees when they returned. "It must be the little witches of the Grindelwald family... When I grow up, I'll kill them all! I'll avenge my sister!"

"Don't do that, Gale," Veratia said softly. "Murder is a terrible sin, and no one has wronged you, sister. Don't worry—even if they have, you'll pay for it yourself someday."

"Oh." Gellert said, head bowed.

In the evening, by the dim candlelight, she told Gellert fairy tales she had brought from the court.

"Sister, will the ugly duckling really turn into a swan?" Gellert asked, blinking her bright, watery eyes.

"Yes, Gale." Veratia gently rubbed Gellert's head with her hand.

"Sister, you're the ugly duckling now," Gellert said earnestly, "But you'll definitely become a swan someday."

"Thank you, Gale," Veratia said softly.

After Gellert fell asleep, Veratia blew out the candles and went back to her room.

She sat on the bed, recalling what had just happened.

Finally, Gellert's childish voice rang in my ears.

"Sister, you will definitely become a swan in the future."

Before anyone knew it, Veratia's eyes were already brimming with tears.

On the Sunday after Christmas, Veratia was told to welcome pure-blood wizard from Britain.

In fact, Veratia's aunt was also Squib, which is why she was so tolerant of Veratia.

If it weren't for their shared misfortune, Veratia would likely have kicked her out the door the second or third time she was pranked and embarrassed.

Veratia neither wanted to nor was interested in finding out the specific reasons for the meeting.

As the Queen's niece, Veratia naturally received a lot of care, and even had a silver Princess crown.

This was the Diadem my aunt wore when she was still a duchess; after all, before marrying Franz, she was a carefree Bavaria princess.

Despite how much the Grindelwald family girls hate "Muggle," they will ultimately have to serve the Muggle royal family.

As the mainstay of the Austro-Hungarian Empire's thriving pure-blood wizard family, the Grindelwald family was naturally also going to attend this meeting.

After all, the Grindelwald family has over a hundred members, which is a considerable force wherever they are.

However, before Veratia could set off, she couldn't find her Diadem anywhere.

That Diadem was Diadem one her aunt had specified for her to wear to the meeting yesterday.

She searched the entire room but couldn't find any trace of the Diadem.

Left with no other choice, she could only set off anxiously, bracing herself for her aunt's scolding.

However, when she arrived at the palace courtyard, she bumped into Hydra and Wilhelmine.

"Look, isn't that Vera, the Muggle Princess Squib Vera?" Wilhelmine said sarcastically. "What's wrong? Can't find your Muggle Diadem? Don't worry, maybe if you look closely you can find it..."

"Oh my god, Wilhelmine," Hydra chimed in sarcastically, "I bet that Squib Princess is just careless and's lost her Diadem somewhere again... Oh dear, what will you and your heterochromatic brother do if you lose your job?"

Veratia's fists clenched tightly involuntarily.

She could guess that the Diadem must have been stolen and hidden by these two people.

"Where is the Diadem?" she asked softly.

"Guess?" Hydra shook his head. "Ha, never mind, it's no fun making you guess. I'll just show you the way."

She raised her hand and pointed to a large tree not far away.

"See that? It's hanging on the branch of that tree." Hydra glanced at Veratia's ladylike dress and grinned wickedly. "Alright, let's see if the Diadem is more important to you, or your dress... Or rather, if you don't get the Diadem and you tear your dress, let's see how your aunt scolds you..."

"Squib Vera, go get it yourself!" Wilhelmine made a face.

"Wilhelmine?" Hydra patted Wilhelmine on the shoulder. "Be polite. We are pure-blood wizard attending an important occasion now, and we should follow our etiquette... We should call her... Her Your Highness the Muggle Princess."

Veratia ignored their mockery and ran absentmindedly to the tree with the Diadem hanging from it.

But the tree was too tall, and as a lady, she had no idea how to climb trees, so she could only look at the Diadem hanging high above her in frustration.

"Muggle Princess, hurry up!" Hydra chuckled wickedly. "Perhaps you can climb up like a monkey and take this Diadem down—but be careful not to fall to your death!"

Veratia stood under the tree, looking desperately at the Diadem hanging high in the tree.

She didn't know what she had done wrong to deserve this treatment.

Yes, we're all Grindelwald, we're all cousins...

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew past me.

Veratia saw a boy riding a broomstick and wearing strange glasses pass by him and easily took off the Diadem.

After receiving the Diadem, the boy spun his broom, drawing a graceful arc in the sky before finally coming to a steady stop in front of him.

"Here, your Diadem," the boy said softly. "Be careful not to lose it again—"

Veratia noticed that the boy in front of her was speaking English.

Having studied with her aunt for many years, she naturally learned English and French, and of course could understand what Harry was saying.

"Thank you," Veratia replied in heavily accented German English.

"The prince rescuing the princess trope? How boring."

The piercing sound rang out again.

"What are they saying?" the boy in front of him asked, as he did not understand German.

German has always been one of the official languages of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. In 1867, the Austro-Hungarian Empire issued a language decree, the main purpose of which was to maintain the status of German and Hungary as official languages, while also recognizing and protecting the rights of other national languages to a certain extent.

Therefore, these sorcerers, who came from the traditional German regions of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, usually spoke German.

"They're saying it's the classic prince saves the princess trope, how boring," Veratia translated for the black-haired boy in front of her.

Upon hearing this, the boy smiled brightly.

"Haha, I'm not a prince," the boy said, scratching his head. "Have you ever seen an orphan prince? — I mean, a prince without parents, without any relatives, ha... even his schooling at Hogwarts was funded by charity..."

Veratia's gaze softened.

She had initially assumed the boy in front of her came from Pure-blood family, but now it seemed...

This boy's situation is probably not much better than yours.

The hardest thing in the world is to empathize. Veratia felt that the boy in front of her... seemed to be very similar to herself.

"These people are really annoying, aren't they?" the boy asked. "What's your relationship with them?"

"They're my cousins," Veratia said softly. "They hung my Diadem on a tree, thinking it would get me kicked out by my aunt... In fact, this isn't the first time it's happened. They think it's shameful for me to do things for Muggle, a disgrace to pure-blood wizard."

"Ah, just like my Dudley, right?" the boy said. "My cousin Dudley also likes to bully me, just like your sisters often tease you, but he also hits me and sometimes uses me as a punching bag to practice boxing."

Veratia didn't understand what boxing was; the boy was speaking rather quickly.

However, she did understand what he meant.

Both were orphans, both came from impoverished families—and were even bullied by their siblings...

but...

Veratia, however, was somewhat wary. What kind of trick was this now? Or rather—

Is this a new trick Hydra and the others are playing on me?

"Potter!"

A haughty yet sweet voice rang out.

"You rude little Troll, what are you doing running around like that again? How rude of you—this is the palace, not your Quidditch pitch where you ride your broomstick around!"

"Excuse me, Miss Malfoy," the boy named "Potter" quickly turned around and said, "I just... uh, this lady's Diadem was hanging on a tree, I was just helping her get it down."

In Veratia's line of sight, an arrogant young lady walked over from the side.

Like me, she has blonde hair.

"Oh? Is that so?" Miss Malfoy narrowed her long, narrow eyes, scrutinized Veratia for a moment, then looked at ' Potter ': "Well, Potter, I didn't know you'd become a knight protecting women—how ironic, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Malfoy." ' Potter ' quickly put away the broom and bowed in apology.

"No need to apologize, just be more careful next time." Miss Malfoy tilted her head, surveying the room with disdain. "Aren't you coming in with me?"

"Yes, Miss Malfoy," ' Potter ' said, bowing slightly to Miss Malfoy.

Veratia put on her Diadem and hurried behind Potter and Miss Malfoy.

Is this boy... named "Potter"?

It seems he is the girl's servant.

Who are they? Why are they speaking English? Are they the guests Auntie is meeting today?

With these questions in mind, Veratia followed the two of them inside.

"Why so late again, Grindelwald?"

When the leading female official saw Veratia, she frowned.

After scolding her a few times, she made Veratia stand behind Princess Sisi.

"Veratia?" Princess Sisi noticed Veratia's slightly crooked Diadem and said softly, "I think you should know about royal etiquette—your Diadem is crooked."

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Veratia said quickly, reaching out to straighten the Diadem on her head.

This is a formal occasion, so Veratia cannot use the intimate term "Aunt" but must use the more formal "Your Highness".

"I think Your Highness should really train your lady-in-waiting properly." a Slytherin student, the current head of the Grindelwald family, glanced at Veratia with a mocking expression. "As His Your Highness's lady-in-waiting, you can't even learn the most basic manners."

"Yeah?"

When someone pointed it out to her face, Princess Sisi was a little embarrassed.

Veratia swallowed hard. Being pointed out in such a formal setting between the two countries, she didn't think her aunt would let her off the hook this time.

"What are they saying?" ' Potter ' whispered to Miss Malfoy from not far away.

Miss Malfoy looked disgusted, but still translated it for Harry.

"That's enough, Veratia." Princess Sisi took a breath.

Veratia was somewhat desperate...

Before Princess Sisi could utter another word, Veratia saw a figure stand up from the Britain wizard's side.

It's that ' Potter ' from earlier.

"Your Highness, that's not the case!"

Veratia was puzzled; she didn't understand why Harry would speak up for him—and in her view, Harry's status was no different from hers.

Is it worth it for a female officer like me who is Squib?

Princess Sisi was fluent in eight languages, so naturally she could understand English.

Seeing someone speaking to her niece, she secretly breathed a sigh of relief and asked, "Sir, who are you?"

"My apologies, Your Highness."

At this moment, the "aristocratic etiquette" that Headmaster Black had forced them to learn came in handy, and ' Potter ' performed a perfect, impeccable Gentleman's Bow.

"If I'm not mistaken, the lady-in-waiting beside you is being tormented by the two little witches who are with this gentleman," said ' Potter.' "I saw them bullying her, hanging her Diadem on a tree, and then standing beside her gleefully, making her climb the tree to get it."

"And this isn't the first time this has happened. I heard they used to bully your female officers a lot, and they just admitted it, saying 'Ja'."

Princess Sisi was no fool, and upon hearing this, she naturally understood what had happened.

"Veratia, why didn't you tell me about these things sooner?" she asked with heartache.

She had no idea how much suffering her niece had endured; all she wanted to do now was vent her anger.

"I'm sorry, Auntie." Veratia's voice was very soft. She didn't want to explain, nor was she good at explaining.

"Your Highness."

Miss Malfoy's voice rang out.

Princess Sisi looked at Miss Malfoy.

"I apologize, my servant spoke without permission, disrupting the proceedings of the banquet." She glanced disdainfully at the two girls named Grindelwald, "But I still commend his courage, after all, not everyone would stand up for a complete Lady in such a situation."

"However..." Miss Malfoy said again, "I believe it is a disgrace to the Malfoy family to sit with such a person."

She was referring, of course, to the two girls whose last name was Grindelwald.

Young Lady Malfoy's meaning was very clear: these two Miss Grindelwald were not worthy of sitting in such an occasion.

"I think you're right, Miss Malfoy." Princess Sisi felt no offense. She turned to the two trembling girls and said, "You're not welcome here, Miss Grindelwald —I think I need to suggest to His Majesty the Emperor that the Grindelwald family's position in the Empire be reassessed."

"Your Highness, you..." Fred Grindelwald said, his throat dry.

"You are the same, Mr. Grindelwald," Princess Sisi said coldly.

"Later I found out that the boy's name was Harry, Harry Potter." After explaining the whole story and the portraits of the professors, Veratia sighed almost imperceptibly.

"Is this why you came to Hogwarts to study after awakening your Ancient Magic talent?" Professor Rackham, unusually, didn't make a sarcastic remark, but instead pondered for a moment before saying, "In that case, I can understand why you, as a German, didn't go to Durmstrang."

"And then what happened? What about those cousins who bullied you?" Headmaster Fitzgerald asked.

"Oh." Veratia's tone was very relaxed. "They're all dead. My only regret is that, apart from Gale and me, there are three other members of the Grindelwald family still alive."

The three professors fell silent.

They now understood why the once large and prosperous Grindelwald family had dwindled to just Veratia and Gellert.

After all that, it was all because of you...

After a long silence, Professor Rackham finally spoke.

"Oh, I don't think it's so bad," he said. "If we stayed and wreaked havoc on the Magical World with Gellert Grindelwald, who knows how many people would die..."

You know what, after he said that, the atmosphere in the Map Chamber became even colder.

Harry didn't actually remember what happened when he was a guest in the Austro-Hungarian Empire. At the time, he didn't even know the lady's name. He just felt sorry for her and helped her out.

Of course, it was also because he was addicted to brooms; he felt uncomfortable if he didn't fly a few laps around.

Afterwards, he was worried about whether he would be punished by Mr. Septimus, but to his surprise, Mr. Septimus not only did not punish him, but also praised him.

Mr. Septimus said that this was what a proper pure-blood wizard would do.

He's quite happy now, after all, Veratia is only angry about Gellert taking a portion of the money, but she doesn't seem to be that angry.

Let's wait until she comes out and then talk to her about those things, such as—the little things about Gellert and Dumbledore.

Hopefully, Veratia won't be so angry she'll explode or crack...

Thinking of Veratia's slender waist, just like Princess Sisi's, Harry always felt that revealing the truth would make his waist bulge with anger—

The first class of the new semester was Herbology Class, Herbology Class Harry actually quite liked, provided that the Herbology Class was taught by the beautiful Professor Garick from a hundred years ago.

However, Professor Sprout's teaching was acceptable, since she never made things difficult for others, unlike Snape would spray venom everywhere.

Actually, Professor Snape wasn't so bad. Apart from being a bit harsh, strict, cold-blooded, and inhumane, he had no other flaws.

"Today we're going to the Third Greenhouse," Professor Sprout said, her tone as gentle and welcoming as ever.

The students whispered with great interest; they had only been to the Greenhouse One —the plants in the Third Greenhouse were more interesting, but also more dangerous.

Professor Sprout took a large key from his belt and opened the door.

Harry smelled the scent of damp earth and fertilizer mixed with a rich floral fragrance.

The flowers were as big as umbrellas and hung from the ceiling.

Harry noticed that there were dozens of earmuffs of different colors on the table. He had used these earmuffs before, to block out the screams of the Mandrake.

It seems... we're going to learn about Mandrake today?

However, isn't this somewhat dangerous?

Even in that environment a hundred years ago, the first real hands-on experience of repotting Mandrake wouldn't have happened until fifth grade— Harry felt that the current teaching method was to be gentle where it should be wild, and quite wild where it should be gentle.

Even for someone like him who went to school a hundred years ago and had close contact with Dark Wizard, he felt it was a bit extreme.

Just imagine, what if some little wizard didn't wear their earmuffs properly and got yelled at by the Mandrake's scream...

That would be a teaching mishap for Hogwarts.

His guess was right. Professor Sprout stood in the middle of the Greenhouse, looked around, and said, "Today we're going to repot the Mandrake. Now, can anyone tell me what the characteristics of Mandrake are?"

Hermione and Neville raised their hands together.

Seeing that both of them raised their hands, Professor Sprout considered for a moment and chose Neville.

She felt that young wizards like Neville, who lacked confidence, should be given more opportunities to showcase themselves and cultivate their self-confidence.

"Mandrake..." Neville glanced at Professor Sprout, who gave him an encouraging smile, which boosted Neville's confidence. He continued, "It's used to restore a person who has been Transfiguration or Charms to their original state..."

"So, what is it called?" Professor Sprout asked encouragingly.

"It's also called... it's also called Mandrake Root!" Neville said with much more confidence. "It's a powerful restorative agent."

"Excellent!" Professor Sprout exclaimed. "Ten points for Gryffindor!"

When Neville heard the sound of points being awarded—especially ten points—he looked incredulous.

Good heavens, he's always losing points in class, when has he ever given any points?

"Longbottom," Professor Sprout asked again, "Mandrake is an important component of most antidotes, but it's also dangerous. Can you tell me why?"

Neville looked up and thought for a moment before replying, "The book says that hearing the cry of the Mandrake... can kill you."

"Absolutely right, add another ten points," Professor Sprout exclaimed.

A round of applause broke out in the classroom; Hermione led the applause.

Neville laughed happily, even forgetting to sit down.

"Alright, Longbottom, please sit down," said Professor Sprout.

Harry suddenly said, "Professor, I have a question."

When Professor Sprout saw that it was Harry who asked the question, he smiled gently.

She liked this child who looked a lot like Lily very much.

"Go ahead and tell me, Mr. Potter," she said.

"So, Professor, if we cast a Mandrake to make it Grow Quickly and then cast a Sonorus, wouldn't it be more lethal?" Harry asked innocently.

Upon hearing Harry's words, Professor Sprout froze on the spot as if he had been Petrifying Spell.

She glanced at Harry mechanically, a sigh escaping her lips.

My God, this is another James!

"Mr. Potter, I must remind you that Mandrake is a very dangerous plant!" Professor Sprout's voice was stern. "Please do not cast this spell on Mandrake; it will cause immeasurable damage!"

"Oh." Harry nodded, then asked, "Actually, I have another question, Professor Sprout."

"Please ask, Mr. Potter," Professor Sprout said, thinking that Mr. Potter wouldn't be trying anything new this time, would he?

However, she didn't expect that Harry's next topic would be even more frightening.

"Professor, if we recorded a Howler using the cry of Mandrake, would it have the same destructive power?"

Professor Sprout gripped his collar tightly, his face alternating between pale and flushed.

Good heavens, good heavens, this Mr. Potter...

She now wanted to grab Professor McGonagall by the collar in her cat form and yell at her—

"This is what you meant by looking like Lily?!?!"

Harry quickly shut his mouth. Actually, he didn't mean to. He had never explored the specific uses of Mandrake. In fact, these were just his flashes of inspiration, and he hadn't put them into practice yet.

Hmm... I can try it next time I see Voldemort and see if he can withstand the Mandrake's Voldemort Engorgio and Sonorus call.

"Sit down, Mr. Potter," Professor Sprout Pomona Sprout sighed. "I still hope you young wizards can focus your energy on other things, even learning some Harmless Minor Curses, rather than studying these troublesome things."

Hermione's lips twitched.

Well, if Professor Sprout is referring to the "Harmless Minor Curses Harmless Minor Curses" carefully selected by the Gaunt family, then we might as well study the application of Mandrake.

"Today we'll learn how to repot Mandrake," Professor Sprout said to them after recovering. "When I tell you to put on the earmuffs, make sure to cover your ears completely. When it's safe to remove the earmuffs, I'll give you two thumbs up... Okay—put on the earmuffs."

Upon hearing Professor Sprout's order, all the students put on their earmuffs.

Professor Sprout came down and carefully checked each student's work. After confirming that everything was in order, she went back and began to demonstrate in detail.

She pulled the doll-like Mandrake out of the pot, then ignored its cries and stuffed it back into the pot, covering it with soil.

Professor Sprout then held up two fingers, gesturing for them to remove their earmuffs.

"Our Mandrake are just seedlings, and hearing their cries won't kill you," she said calmly. "However, they can knock you unconscious for hours, and I don't think any of you want to miss the first day of School Opening, so make sure you wear earmuffs while you're working. I'll try to get your attention when it's time to pack up—okay, four people per pot, let's begin."

They quickly formed groups, but unfortunately, Harry was alone and had no group members.

"Harry, good luck," Ron and Hermione said gloatingly.

They weren't worried at all about whether Harry could finish it on his own—just kidding, a man who could come up with so many applications of Mandrake, would he be worried about how to finish it?

Under Professor Sprout's guidance, the students put on earmuffs and began transplanting Mandrake plants into pots.

The process was difficult, after all, Mandrake are like dolls, and they will struggle wildly after being pulled out. It takes several people to help press them back into the soil.

Harry reached out and plucked Mandrake, which let out a sharp screech upon contact with the air.

Harry couldn't hear it, but he could sense it to some extent from the Mandrake's ferocious expression.

He examined the Mandrake for a moment, then placed it on the soil.

The Mandrake struggled to stay inside, but it suddenly felt a high temperature approaching.

A cluster of Azure flame ignited on Harry's finger.

The Mandrake let out a shriek and began to dig into the soil in the flowerpot with its hand-like roots, soon creating a small hole for itself.

It jumped in and continued to scream as it dug itself up until it was completely buried and could no longer see the horrible student.

"He's really obedient," Harry said with admiration. He loved obedient children the most.

When he turned around, he saw his classmates who were frozen in shock.

"What's wrong with you guys?" Harry laughed. "Why aren't you digging anymore?"

However, the students were wearing earmuffs and couldn't hear his voice.

After staring blankly for a while, Hermione dejectedly stuck the shovel into the ground.

Good heavens, Harry is inhuman! He... he's just...

Hermione searched for a long time but couldn't find a suitable description, so she simply gave up on thinking about it.

Seeing Harry skillfully bury the Mandrake in the soil, Professor Sprout planned to give Harry ten extra points later.

She didn't see Harry use the flames to threaten the Mandrake; she only saw a rough outline.

After class, on the way back to the Great Hall, Hermione approached Harry and asked, "Harry, what were you using in class?"

"What? What?" Harry asked, biting his Licorice Wand.

"It's that cluster of Azure flame," Hermione asked curiously.

"Gubraithian Fire," Harry answered truthfully. "However, I don't recommend second-year students learn it, because their magical control hasn't reached a certain level, and they won't be able to successfully control this flame."

"And what about you? How come you can?" Neville asked, looking clueless.

"Because he's the Savior." Hermione turned around and rolled her eyes.

She had absolutely no desire to compete with Harry. Rather than comparing herself to such a genius among geniuses, she would rather find something else to do, such as reading or practicing Charms, which would be much better than such meaningless things.

As evening approached, a cold wind began to blow at Hogwarts.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry were sitting outside enjoying the breeze when a gust of cold wind blew in, making Hermione shiver.

"I feel like I'm not wearing enough," Hermione said, looking down at her legs.

"You're only wearing over-the-knee socks, and your thighs are showing. How can you not be cold?" Ron commented.

"That's what the Scottish Highlands are like, isn't it?"

The three of them turned around and saw a blonde girl wearing carrot earrings.

The girl had pale skin, light eyebrows, silver eyes, and shoulder-length dark golden-brown hair.

Upon closer inspection, her eyes bulge slightly outwards, giving her a perpetually surprised expression.

"Hello," the girl said, her eyes vacant as she looked at Harry. "I know you. You're Harry Potter, right?"

"Yes..." Harry had a feeling that this girl would get along well with Pabbie.

Hmm... they all look the same... it's hard to describe it with that adjective.

But thinking of Pabbie... Harry felt it had been so long since he'd seen her, he really missed her.

Harry wondered how Pappy was doing with Mr. LeMay. He wondered if he should write to Mr. LeMay to ask about Pabbie's situation.

Harry thought about it and decided against it. As for the owl... Hedwig had already made one international long-haul flight. Flying from London was fine, but flying from the Scottish Highlands to Paris... Harry was really worried that Hedwig would be exhausted.

"I'm Luna Lovegood from Ravenclaw." Luna extended her hand and shook hands with each of them. "It's a pleasure to meet you all."

After shaking hands with everyone, Luna looked at Harry, her big eyes full of curiosity.

"You look like you have a lot of Wrackspurt around you, Harry. You're swarmed by them," Luna said softly. "They're Accio around you, buzzing."

"Wrackspurt?" Harry asked, puzzled. "What's Wrackspurt?"

He genuinely didn't know what Wrackspurt was—he had never heard of the word, either in books or in real life.

"Wrackspurt... they're invisible, they float into your ears and mess with your brain," Luna said. "I think I just felt one buzzing around here."

She clapped her hands in the air, as if trying to shoo away an invisible giant moth.

"Who is she...?" Hermione nudged Ron, extended her index finger, and circled it around her temple.

An internationally recognized gesture that means "Is your mind not quite right?"

"I don't know either," Ron said quietly.

"Oh, they really do call me Loony." Luna seemed to have overheard Ron and Hermione's whispers.

Being caught talking behind someone's back is indeed embarrassing, Hermione gave an embarrassed smile and apologized to her repeatedly.

"I'm sorry, Luna."

"It's alright," Luna said softly. "I'm used to it—"

After saying that, Luna hopped and skipped back to the Great Hall like a rabbit.

"Let's not talk bad about other people next time," Ron somewhat awkwardly. "Look, she heard us all clearly."

"But do Wrackspurt really exist?"

Hermione looked somewhat conflicted; Academic Bully always seem to react this way when they encounter something they don't understand.

"Harry, have you heard of him?" Ron asked.

Harry thought for a moment and said with certainty, "I've never heard of that, but if she says so, there must be a reason... I know that many wizards have special abilities, such as being able to see things that ordinary people cannot."

He was talking about Ancient Magic.

"Okay, that's true." Hermione shook her head and said, "Let's go back first—I think we should review the lessons properly, after all, it's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and also an adventurer and bestselling author..."

At this point, Hermione cupped her hands around her heart and started swooning over him again.

"I think he's all show and no substance!" Ron said indignantly. He felt that this new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was just like Quirrell last year—or even Quirrell.

(It's the end of the month, please give me some monthly votes, thank you everyone)

(The last 4,000 words are bonus chapters, namely the 8,000 monthly votes and the last 2,000 words of the Alliance Leader, "Ten Thousand People Like the Sea, Hidden in One Body".)

(No more extra chapters coming soon, hurry up and vote!)