Beating McLaggen

Harry didn't intend to interfere in his friends' affairs.

He's never been interested in who likes whom or who doesn't like whom—well, not that he's uninterested, he just doesn't want to get involved. But when it comes to gossip, he, Potter, is quite interested.

Gossiping is human nature.

"But that's a good thing." Ron seemed to see everything as a good thing. "Anyway, Malfoy is definitely better than that Thomas. I really dislike him—the last person I disliked that much was that guy in seventh grade—what was his name again? That big guy."

"Cormac McLagan," Harry reminded Ron. "That's his name, if I remember correctly."

"Yes, McLagan." Ron nodded. "That bastard not only has his eye on my Quidditch goalkeeper position, but he's also got a thing for Hermione. He's really twisted his mind, isn't he?"

"So you mean you want to beat him up?" Harry asked, never one to miss a chance for a good show.

"Ha," Ron chuckled. "If he showed up in front of me right now, I'd definitely give him a good curse, I mean it."

Before he finished speaking, Harry pointed to the stands not far in front of him.

"Look, Cormac McLagan is sitting there—hey, he seems to be looking for Hermione, trying to strike up a conversation with her—"

Ron looked in the direction Harry was pointing and saw McLagan timidly approaching Hermione, while Hermione kept avoiding him with a look of utter disdain.

He suddenly became extremely angry.

Hey, you, wearing a straw hat with frills and covered in urea bags, cosplaying as a One Piece character, do you think you can compete with me for a girl?

He rode his broomstick and snatched the bat from Katie's hand— Katie wasn't Chaser, she was just borrowing it to take a look—then Ron swung the bat and Bludger at McLagan, who was flirting with Hermione.

"Bang!"

The Bludger struck McLagan in the back of the head, and he passed out instantly.

"I'm sorry," Ron said apologetically, "I didn't mean to."

In fact, it's obvious to everyone that he did it on purpose.

After McLagan was taken to the Hospital Wing by his classmates, Ron was taken to the Great Hall by Professor McGonagall.

"The impact is extremely negative!" she stammered, "Gryffindor will deduct fifty points because of your actions!"

Ron looked completely unconcerned; he was the kind of person who always acted on impulse and sought revenge.

I don't care who you are, McLagan, McGonagall, or any of those people. If you dare mess with me, you'll be finished.

A significant number of the seventh-year Gryffindor boys made some trash talk towards Ron, but aside from the seventh-year students at McLagan's, almost everyone gave Ron a thumbs up.

Ginny was the same; she would tell everyone she met that her brother was "a real man."

He's definitely become more manly; after all, he's the first person to deliberately hit a classmate in the stands on the head with a baseball bat and Bludger.

Of course, it must be emphasized here that it was intentional, because quite a few unlucky students still got hit by the Bludger.

Ron will not only lose fifty points, but he will also be put in solitary confinement—not in Professor Snape's office, but in Filch's.

"Do you want to come with me?" Ron asked Harry tentatively, his eyes full of anticipation.

"I'm not going with you, bro." Harry patted Ron on the shoulder. "Hope you and Filch have a nice night—goodnight."

After saying that, Harry turned over and went to sleep, leaving Ron sighing beside the bed before turning and leaving the dormitory.

Around midnight, Ron returned.

He showed no signs of sleepiness, still clutching many cards in his hand, and the first thing he did upon returning to his dormitory was to shake Harry awake.

Harry vaguely felt someone shaking him, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Ron's smiling face.

"You'd better have something to do," Harry said expressionlessly.

"Sure, something's up. You'll have to take a look at this, buddy." Ron picked up the stack of papers and handed it to Harry. "Look, it's full of stuff about your dad—I saw it in Filch's office—"

Of course, you should be mentally prepared; it's not a good thing.

"Really?" Harry asked suspiciously. "What does it say?"

"Are you sure you want me to read it aloud?" Ron asked tentatively.

"Read it, I just woke up and my eyes are a little blurry," Harry said, yawning.

Ron took a deep breath, glanced at Seamus and Neville who were still fast asleep, and gave them a "Silencing Charm.

"James Potter and Sirius Black used an illegal curse on Bertram Aubrey, causing Aubrey's head to double in size. Both are in solitary confinement," he said. "You see, I told you it wasn't a good thing written there—"

Harry:----

He reached out and took the cards, flipping through them carefully. They were mostly records of his father James and his best friend Sirius's various misdeeds, but none of them were too serious—at least none of them involved hitting classmates on the head with Bludger. Sometimes Lupin and Pettigrew were also mentioned.

"I can tell," Harry said, his tone somewhat complicated. "My dad was pretty mischievous back in Hogwarts."

"More than just skin?" Ron glanced at Harry sideways. "He hung his classmate up and publicly displayed his bitter tea seeds—the kind that were so dirty they were practically black. Just think how utterly despicable that is—"

"Of course," Ron added before Harry could speak, "This guy holds grudges; he even remembered them when his enemy's son started school—"

"Stop talking, stop talking—" Harry waved his hand.

Ron chuckled and didn't continue the conversation.

"So, can you not let me participate in the trial?" he suddenly pleaded. "Please, Harry, if I participate in that trial, I might be scared to death by the spiders, and you don't want a brother who's scared to death, do you?"

"No way, brother," Harry said with a chuckle. "You'd better get cleaned up and get ready to feed the Acromantula— "

Ron plopped down on the bed, looking utterly dejected, muttering to himself.

When Ron woke up the next morning, he was still somewhat absent-minded.

He was extremely reluctant to face the Acromantula, especially the swarms of them; they were simply not something a human should be able to confront.

Just as he was lost in thought, Hermione suddenly walked up to him.

"I want to talk to you, Ron," she said.

"What are you going to talk about?" Ron asked, puzzled.

However, he didn't take it too seriously. After all, Hermione had just praised him yesterday, though she had expressed her disapproval of his actions. In short, she was happy that Ron had protected her, but also advised him not to act impulsively and attack his classmate, lest he be expelled.

In Hermione's opinion, being expelled from school was worse than death.

"That so-called Half-Blood Prince," Hermione whispered.

"Oh, here we go again," Harry muttered under his breath. "Can't you change the subject?"

"I'm not changing the subject," Hermione said firmly, "until you finish. I've always wanted to find out who made inventing the Dark Charms a hobby—"

"This guy doesn't treat this as a hobby," Ron said seriously.

Hermione opened her mouth.

"This brother, this brother—you're saying he's a man?"

"We've already said that," Ron said impatiently, "Prince, Hermione, Prince!"

"Okay!" Hermione said, her cheeks flushing, and pulled a very old newspaper from her pocket, throwing it slammed onto Ron's desk. "Look at this! Look at the picture on it!"

Ron picked up the tattered newspaper and stared at the yellowed photos of the event; curious Harry also came over to look.

He was also quite curious to know who this Half-Blood Prince was.

The photo shows a thin girl who is about fifteen years old.

She wasn't pretty; she looked somewhat eccentric and sullen. She had thick eyebrows, a long face, and a pale complexion. The caption below the photo read: Erin Prince, Captain of the Hogwarts Gobstones Team.

"What's wrong?" Ron said, glancing at the relevant article, which was just a mundane news item about an inter-school competition.

"Her name is Eileen Prince, Ron."

They exchanged a glance, and Ron realized what Hermione was about to say. He suddenly burst out laughing.

"Impossible."

"What?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"You think she's Half-blood—?" Ron said, shaking his head with a laugh, "Oh, don't be ridiculous."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Why not? Ron, there are no real princes in the Wizarding World! That word is either a nickname, a self-proclaimed title, or just a name. Impossible? Listen to me! If she has a wizard father named Prince and her mother is Muggle, then she could be Half-Blood Prince!"

Ron couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes, she's a genius, Hermione— "

Hermione still wouldn't give up on her point of view. "But that's very possible! Maybe she's even proud to be Half-Blood Prince!"

"Listen, Hermione, I know it's not a woman, I can sense it." Ron sighed, sticking to his point, "I don't believe the Half-Blood Prince is a woman—"

"You just think girls can't be that smart," Hermione said angrily.

broken.

We've started discussing our positions.

Ron sighed again.

"We've known each other for so many years, how could I still think girls aren't smart?" he said helplessly. "Look, you're the smartest girl I've ever met. I don't think I have even half your intelligence—but you have to understand, the Half-Blood Prince's handwriting doesn't look like a woman's handwriting at all—"

Messy and illegible handwriting is clearly a characteristic of boys' handwriting. If you don't believe me, look at the handwriting of other students, regardless of which girl's; see whose handwriting is as messy as a clump of straw.

Hermione opened her mouth.

She wanted to argue, but she had to admit that Ron was right.

Starting with the handwriting was something she hadn't considered.

"Fine." Hermione gave up her insistence, putting away the newspaper. "You wait, Ron, I have to find out her true identity! I won't give up until I find out the truth!"

Ron didn't say anything; he knew that nothing he said could change Hermione's mind.

This girl—once she's set her mind on something, not even eight Thestral could pull her back.

"I'm actually quite curious."

After Hermione left, Ron whispered to Harry, "Why is Hermione so obsessed with finding out the Half-Blood Prince's true identity? Is there some kind of consequence? Or is the Half-Blood Prince Dark Wizard as evil as the mysterious Voldemort?"

Ron has changed a lot. He no longer turns pale at the mention of Voldemort like before. In fact, all the students in the Dueling Club dare to face Voldemort's name directly, instead of referring to him as "The Dark Lord."

"I don't know." Harry thought for a moment, then said to Ron, "What I'm certain of is that he's definitely not Voldemort, because—"

Before he could finish speaking, he was interrupted by a deep, muffled voice.

"Ronald Weasley!"

Harry and Ron looked up together and saw McLagan's burly body.

"Is there something you need?" Ron asked innocently.

McLagan's face flushed bright red, and he angrily demanded, "Why did you Bludger!"

"Oh, I was about to ask you that too. Why did you catch my Bludger with your face?" Ron retorted. "You made me lose fifty points and get time off. You've got some nerve, McLagan."

"Bullshit!" McLagan gasped. "You did it on purpose, Weasley!"

"So what if it was intentional?" Ron laughed. "Professor McGonagall has already punished me. Do you even realize the seriousness of the matter? You were flirting with my girlfriend Hermione, and she clearly doesn't like you. I was just doing what a man should do."

McLagan pulled out his wand from his pocket.

Ron's words just now caused him further harm.

If Ron's nonchalant attitude earlier had angered him, then the fact that Ron said Hermione was his girlfriend was a devastating blow to McLagan.

"You want to duel me?" Ron shook his head with a smile. "What a boring trick! What do you think this is? A dueling arena? This is Gryffindor Common Room!"

"Pull out your wand, you coward!" McLagan roared.

Although Ron was Harry's best friend, McLagan wasn't afraid at all; he felt he was in the right.

"You seem to have a problem here." Ron bent his index finger and tapped his temple, making a universally recognized gesture.

McLagan roared angrily and pointed his wand at Ron.

"Stupefy (Stunning Spell)!"

However, Ron was prepared. He swiftly drew his wand and deflected the Accio Charms.

Then, the wand was aimed at McLagan, and a silent Disarming Charm shot out, causing the wand in McLagan's hand to spin and fly into Ron's hand.