Hermione's "Embarrassing Past"

Hermione's "Embarrassing Past" Brook had originally planned to make do with two fried steaks for dinner, but Hermione invited him to the Granger house.

Mrs. Granger had already prepared a lavish dinner.

Called the "Potato Extravaganza" for short.

Baked Potatoes, french fries, and mashed potatoes.

Looking at the two dishes on the table that resembled Chinese food, Brook could not help but feel a toothache coming on.

He had taught Mrs. Granger how to make kung pao chicken and Sweet and Sour Pork before.

But why did he say they only "resembled" Chinese food?

Because Mrs. Granger had made some utterly inhumane modifications to them.

Kung pao chicken was one of Sichuan cuisine's signature dishes, tangy and sweet.

But Mrs. Granger had added orange juice and all kinds of sweet sauces.

Not only was there not a trace of tanginess, it also looked sticky and mushy.

As for Sweet and Sour Pork, though the preparation had not changed much, she had barely added any sugar.

The soul of Sweet and Sour Pork was gone.

It was Dark Cuisine through and through.

During dinner, the conversation naturally revolved around Hogwarts and magic.

Hermione was unusually excited.

She chattered nonstop about everything she had seen in Diagon Alley.

The Granger parents smiled as they listened to their daughter, but their hearts were filled with worry.

Though they supported their daughter's decision, they were terrified of the unknown world of magic.

Mr. Granger remained silent for a long time before finally speaking.

"Brook, there's something I'd like to ask of you."

Brook looked up. "Don't worry. I'll take care of Hermione."

"Who needs you to take care of me? I can take care of myself!"

Hermione held her little head high.

Mr. Granger looked at Hermione, his eyes full of affection and helplessness.

Then he turned back to Brook.

Brook gave him a reassuring look.

Hermione was someone who would live until the end of the story. What could possibly happen to her at school?

Brook had not enjoyed this meal very much, but he was definitely stuffed.

Stuffed from all the gossip.

Although it was not his first time eating at the Granger house.

It was the first time Mr. Granger had drunk in front of him.

Clearly, Hermione's impending departure for Hogwarts had put him under considerable pressure.

So much so that he drank several extra glasses.

Then he started talking more and more.

And began recounting Hermione's "embarrassing past."

"She loved the fairies in fairy tales when she was little. When she was five, she mixed together every seasoning and anything else she could find in the house to brew a 'magic potion.' She didn't turn into a fairy, but she did get a stomachache for several days. We had no choice but to take her to the hospital."

Hermione covered her face with both hands, her voice slipping through her fingers. "Dad, please..."

But Mr. Granger was still immersed in his memories, with no intention of stopping.

"She was especially obsessed with fairy tales back then. Once, she wore a crown, used a bedsheet as a cape, held a fairy wand, and ran around the house muttering about saving the world. Then she accidentally tripped over the carpet and fell flat on her face, her crown crooked to one side. But after climbing back up, she dusted herself off and continued her 'adventure.'"

Hermione's face was already as red as a ripe apple ⁄(⁄⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄⁄)⁄.

"There was another time when she covered every wall in the living room with crayons. She drew all sorts of strange things: screaming radishes, Skeleton Horses with wings, and three-headed puppies. She stood there with a proud look on her face, introducing us to her 'masterpieces.'"

Hermione shot her mother a pleading look.

Mrs. Granger stood up, grabbed Mr. Granger by the ear, and forcibly dragged him upstairs.

Even as he walked away, Mr. Granger continued muttering.

"Hermione was really adorable when she was little..."

Brook truly did not want to laugh—unless he could not hold it in.

Hermione glared at him fiercely. "You're still laughing? What's so funny?"

Brook hurriedly waved his hands. "The fact that Mr. Granger remembers everything so clearly shows how much he loves you."

"I know." There was a touch of sweet helplessness in Hermione's voice.

Brook did not stay at the Granger house for long.

After all, he had finished enjoying the gossip. It was time to go home.

After returning home, he took a shower and even washed his hands several times.

Although the system lottery only required a thought and did not require his hands.

He still had to show it enough respect.

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"Jade Emperor, Lord Lao, Tathagata Buddha, Victorious Fighting Buddha, and Thanos, bless me."

As for why he had not included Jesus Christ, he was a wizard now.

Brook clasped his left hand around his right, forming a Taijitu, then devoutly bowed in all eight directions.

"System lottery, five consecutive draws."

The system prompt immediately rang out in his mind.

[Thank you for participating]

[Congratulations, Host. You have won first prize: Occlumency]

No one can peer into the Host's thoughts.

[Congratulations, Host. You have won second prize: "Asian Sorcery"]

The Host can change their appearance through makeup techniques.

[Thank you for participating]

[Congratulations, Host. You have won first prize: top-tier Dark Arts talent]

Any Dark Arts spell will be automatically mastered by the Host at a glance.

Brook looked at the lottery results.

Three wins out of five. The odds were not bad.

And he had even won two first prizes.

He was especially satisfied with Occlumency.

This was something that had been troubling him already.

The memories in his mind about Harry Potter were a minor issue.

But the system was not.

A common man's wealth was his ruin.

The next morning.

Brook's front door was knocked on again.

"Brook, open up. Don't hide in there without making a sound. I know you're home. Open the door! Open the door, open the door, open the door!"

Brook rolled his eyes.

Ever since the time he deliberately hid from Hermione and pretended no one was home, only for her to see through him.

This had become Hermione's way of knocking.

"Coming, coming."

He quickly threw on some clothes and opened the door.

Brook said to Hermione irritably, "Little girl, why are you looking for me so early?"

Hermione ducked down and slipped straight through the doorway.

The first thing she looked at was the plate on the coffee table, which was usually piled full of candy.

"Brook, where's the candy?"

"Dumbledore ate it all."

"How is that possible? He's so old. Why would he like candy?"

Brook rolled his eyes.

What necessary connection was there between being old and liking candy?

"I mean... I mean, if he really ate that much candy, he'd get diabetes."

As Hermione spoke, she spread her hands apart to indicate a huge amount.

"You didn't come here just to eat candy, did you?"

"How could that be? Of course I came to study with you."

Hermione reluctantly pulled her gaze away from the coffee table.

Only then did Brook notice that Hermione was carrying a little backpack.

His head began to ache.

What he least wanted was to study with Hermione.

Anything else would have been fine.

This little girl had a bad habit when it came to studying.

If there was something he did not know, Hermione would insist on teaching it to him.

And if there was something Hermione did not understand, she would insist that he explain it clearly.

Even though he had already returned much of his knowledge to his teachers.

He had lived in an age of information overload, so his store of knowledge was not something an eleven-year-old little girl could compare to.

Thus, he had become a genius in Hermione's eyes.

Those after-school sessions had been utterly miserable.

Yet faced with such an adorable little girl.

He could not bring himself to refuse her and could only endure it.