Friends from a Century Ago

"Invite Ron?" Hermione's face changed instantly. "I'd rather invite Flobberworm than that red egg Ron!"

When she said this, she was so angry that she mispronounced the word "bastard".

Harry restrained himself, but still managed to suppress the urge to burst out laughing.

This isn't good, after all, Hermione is still angry.

As Harry lay in bed that night, he was still thinking about what had happened that day.

He felt that there was little chance Hermione and Ron would reconcile before the end of Christmas.

The next day, after attending the Transfiguration Class with the two of them, he felt even more hopeless.

They have already reached the particularly difficult topic of Human Transfiguration, and this lesson requires students to change the color of their eyebrows while looking in a mirror.

Hermione mocked Ron's disastrous first attempt—that he had grown two conspicuous mustaches.

Ron retaliated in kind, mimicking Hermione's every jump and sit-down motion whenever Professor McGonagall asked a question. Lavender and Parvati found it hilarious, and Hermione almost cried again.

As soon as the bell rang, she rushed out of the classroom, leaving half of her belongings behind.

"You've gone a bit too far, buddy." Harry shook his head; he did think Ron had gone a bit too far.

He packed up Hermione's things and handed them to Ron.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked.

"You got yourself into this mess, so you have to deal with it," Harry said to Ron. "Aren't you two best friends? Does being best friends mean you can make someone angry and then pretend nothing happened?"

That makes a lot of sense. Ron thought about it and agreed.

"Okay," he said. "I'll go talk to Hermione then." He shrugged.

As it turns out, you shouldn't mess with a woman when she's angry. When Ron returned to his dorm that night, he had a bruised and swollen face, looking like he'd been beaten up.

"What's wrong with you?" Harry asked curiously, looking at Ron's pig-like face.

"Don't even mention it," Ron said, covering his face. "I was trying to comfort Hermione, and she beat me up with Charms without saying a word—you know, I'm a very gentlemanly guy, I don't fight with women. —Hiss—"

"So you just stood there and let her hit you?" Seamus asked, leaning closer.

"I ran away," Ron said, "But she stopped me with Charms, and by then it was too late for me to get my wand."

"So I think you need to learn how to Wandless Magic," Neville said from the side. "Think about it, if you could cast spells without a wand, would you still be afraid of Hermione beating you up?"

"If I could Wandless Magic, I'd go and spar with the Dark Lord!" Ron said irritably.

"So," Harry looked at the worried Neville, "Have you decided who to invite to the party?"

"Luna," Neville said earnestly, "I like her. I invited her out this afternoon, and she accepted."

"That's great news!" Harry was happy for Neville too. "Luna agreed, so what are you worried about?"

"Oh, I'm worried Luna will be laughed at," Neville said, looking down. "You know, I've never been very bright. I heard today that Luna was mocked as Loony by her classmates in Transfiguration Class, and Ginny had to stand up for her. If she comes with me to Professor Slughorn's party, I can hardly imagine how she'll be ridiculed."

"Listen to me, bro," Harry patted Neville on the shoulder and said earnestly, "You don't need to feel inferior, man. You're actually a very talented wizard—didn't I tell you? You took good care of the Chinese chomping cabbage back in your first year, and besides, you trained in our Dueling Club, so don't embarrass us!"

"That's right," Ron chimed in. "What do they know? Neville, listen to me, don't pay attention to what others are saying. They're just jealous of you."

"I don't really care," Neville said, distressed. "But Luna —she's a good girl, she shouldn't—."

"You should act like a man! You should act like a man!" Harry suddenly jumped up and smacked Neville on the head.

"Tears—" he mimicked Neville's words, his face contorted with grief, "She's a good girl, she shouldn't be talking nonsense!"

This made Neville, who was in emo mode, laugh. He rubbed his face and said, "So what should I do?"

"You should be more confident, man." Harry poked Neville's belly with his finger. "Confidence, you know? You have to believe you're good enough for Luna— "

As it turns out, Harry's talk therapy was indeed effective.

When Neville woke up the next morning, he looked completely different.

After Harry's talk therapy, he became noticeably more confident.

Of course, just don't be overconfident.

While sitting in the Great Hall, Harry and his friends chatted and laughed, while Hermione frantically fiddled with the stew in front of her a short distance away.

Ron would occasionally steal glances at Hermione, but he would always look away when he noticed someone else staring at him.

"To be honest, you're just being difficult," Harry whispered to Ron. "Can't you be a little more manly? Hermione, I wanted to invite you to Professor Slughorn's party? Do you have to wait until someone else snatches Hermione away before you're happy?"

"Someone like her?" Ron scoffed. "Who do you think would even want to invite her to a party? Unless that person's crazy."

For a moment, Harry thought Ron was hopeless.

"Aren't you her friend?" Harry decided to try a different approach, a roundabout strategy. "You really just want to see your best friend sitting there all alone, with no one inviting her to the party?"

"Oh," Ron said belatedly, "If you put it that way, I do think so—well, wait, watch me."

After saying that, Ron stood up, cleared his throat, and sat down next to Hermione. "Ahem." He coughed twice more, trying to get Hermione's attention.

"You have a cold?" Hermione asked, looking up without expression.

"Oh, no." Ron cleared his throat again. "You see, Hermione — Professor Slughorn said that everyone in the club should bring their partners to the party, and you see, I just happened to find out that you're a girl too."

Harry, who was listening from a distance, slapped himself in the face.

no?

Brother? Don't you want to listen to what you're saying?

What the hell is this? "You're a girl too," and you "coincidentally discovered"?

"I'm glad you found that out!" Hermione was clearly also annoyed.

"So, how about coming to the party with me?" Ron said, gesturing with his arms outstretched. "You see, it's terrible if no one invites you to the party—"

"Ha!" Hermione slammed her spoon down angrily. "I'd rather go to a party with Flobberworm than accept your invitation!"

After saying that, she turned and left.

"It's over." Ron looked dejected, turning to Harry. "I... I didn't really mean to say that, but the words just slipped out."

"I have nothing more to say," Harry sighed. "You're hopeless, bro—"

At eight o'clock in the evening, he arrived at the Entrance hall and found an unusually large number of girls loitering there.

Anne was already standing there, wearing a simple long dress, looking gentle and quiet.

As Harry approached, Anne naturally stepped forward and hooked Harry arm around his.

The girls all pouted and picked at their fingers, seemingly thinking they were prettier Anne.

Neville also walked over to Luna's side. Harry noticed that Luna was wearing a robe with silver sequins, which caused some snickers, but otherwise she looked fine.

Harry thought it was actually not bad—at least she wasn't wearing the Loop earrings, the Butterbeer cork necklace, or her Spectrespecs.

"Let's go," Harry suggested. "We should head to Professor Slughorn's office."

"Where are Ron and Hermione?" Anne asked curiously, looking around.

"Oh, them." Harry suddenly looked embarrassed. "They're both angry and have decided to ignore each other, each thinking the other is unreasonable—I think Ron is probably planning to go to the party by himself, and Hermione is definitely not coming."

"That's such a shame," Anne said, shaking her head. "I thought they would make up before the party. It seems I was overthinking it."

And indeed, that was the case. Harry saw Ron standing motionless in the doorway of Professor Slughorn's office.

"Dude," Harry patted Ron on the shoulder, "I think if you want Hermione to come to the party with you, just say something nice—I don't really have any ideas."

Ron forced a smile and said, "Never mind him, let's go in together."

After saying that, Ron pushed open the office door and went inside.

Harry was quite certain that the office had been enchanted with Untraceable Extension Charm— it was nowhere near as big as Slughorn's office when any of the other professors were there.

The ceiling and walls were adorned with emerald green, deep red, and gold brocades, making it look like a large tent.

The room was cramped and stuffy, bathed in a reddish glow from a golden lamp hanging in the center of the ceiling.

There are real Elf twinkling inside the lamp, each Elf being a bright point of light.

A loud song, seemingly accompanied by a mandolin, came from a corner in the distance; several old wizards, engrossed in conversation, had blue smoke billowing from their pipes; some House Elf scurried through the jungle at their calves, carrying heavy silver platters that obscured their bodies, making them look like wandering little tables.

"Harry, my child!" Slughorn boomed as Harry and Anne entered the room. "Come in, come in! You have so many people to meet!"

Slughorn wore a velvet hat with tassels that matched his smoking shirt perfectly.

Without a word, he led Harry into the crowd, gripping Harry's arm tightly as if he were Apparition him.

Harry took Anne's hand and walked forward with her.

"Harry, I'd like you to meet Elder Wopul, my former student and author of Bloodbrother: My Life Among Vampires—and of course, his friend Bloodny."

Wopul, a short man with glasses, grabbed Harry's hand and held it eagerly.

The vampire, Bloodny, was tall and thin with dark circles under his eyes and a weary look. A group of girls stood beside him, curious and excited.

"Harry Potter, I'm so happy!" Wopul exclaimed, gazing up at Harry's face with his nearsighted eyes. "I was just talking to Professor Slughorn the other day about where the Harry Potter biography we've all been waiting for is. If possible, could I write your biography?"

"Of course." Harry smiled slightly.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," Wopul said with a smile, "It would be my honor to write your biography—I heard from Professor Slughorn that you have a close relationship with Ms. Grindelwald, the Minister of European Ministry of Magic who is currently enjoying great influence?"

"She's my girlfriend, Mr. Wopul," Harry replied with a smile.

Wopul leaned back tactically, filled with awe.

"So that's how it is—" he said admiringly. "No wonder Ms. Grindelwald has always spoken so highly of you. So there's such a relationship between the two of you. Well then, please allow me to say that many people are eager to know you, to know the real you, Mr. Potter —if you could grant me an interview, four or five hours a day, it would take only a few months to complete a book..."

"That sounds good, Mr. Wopul," Harry said gently to Wopul, "But please allow me to decline. After all, I am still a student at Hogwarts, and I won't be able to spare much time for it each day until I graduate from my seventh year."

At this point, he turned to Professor Slughorn, who was standing next to him eating snacks, and said, "After all, I need to diligently complete the assignments given by the professors, which already takes up most of my free time, doesn't it?"

"Haha, yes!" Professor Slughorn chuckled, patting Harry on the shoulder. He then said to Wopul, "If you really want to write a biography like that, I suggest you wait until Harry graduates. Right now, Harry is still a student, and his most important task is to finish his studies, isn't it?"

"Alright." Wopul shook his head. "Sorry, I was being presumptuous."

"But that's alright, at least you know Harry Potter now, right?" Professor Slughorn said with a smile. "Oh, by the way, Harry, I also want to introduce you to someone. You should know this person very well, or is he an old friend? Very well? An old friend?"

Harry immediately became interested.

Professor Slughorn, smiling, led Harry to an old woman.

"Do you remember him?" Professor Slughorn asked the old woman with a smile. "Madam?"

The old woman raised her head, her cloudy eyes following the direction Professor Slughorn was looking, and suddenly her eyes shone brightly.