Is Snape Grounding You?

Because they really wanted to see how Eliana would twist off Lightbulb Guy's head, Ron and Harry stared at Eliana almost nonstop for the next few days, but these days were calm.

They soon gave up.

"Merlin's beard, I never imagined some people could have so much energy."

Ron slumped onto the dining table, his eyes vacant. For the first time, even the fragrant toast, eggs, and bacon couldn't capture his attention. "She has more drive than Percy, Fred, and George combined."

Harry propped his hand on the table, his face buried in it, looking like he was worshipping the pumpkin juice in front of him.

"Yo, I think I heard—"

"Our names!"

The red-haired twins, Fred and George, cackled as they surrounded their younger brother. Then they noticed the two huge dark circles under his eyes, almost reaching his chin.

"Good heavens, little Ronnie, were you out stealing last night?"

"Hey, looks like we underestimated you. Daring to sneak around in first year—George, we have a successor!"

Fred said cheerfully.

Percy, at the front, had already turned his eyes toward them.

"Shut up, don't call me that!" Ron shoved his brothers away. "I wasn't sneaking around! I was studying hard!"

He said, puffing out his chest.

"Oh! Studying hard! What a terrifying phrase! So you're Percy's successor." Fred shrieked.

"I'm heartbroken—I'm truly heartbroken that little Ronnie likes Percy the best!" George clutched his chest.

Ron's face turned as red as his hair.

"Yo, yo, yo, hurry up, hurry up, the hardworking little student is angry!"

"He's going to spew stale study air and defile us!"

The twins laughed, slinging arms around each other's shoulders as they left.

Ron turned to Harry, gritting his teeth. "See, if you had two brothers like these—Hey, mate, you okay?"

He poked the motionless Harry with alarm.

"I think I'm a little dead," Harry said, his eyes closed.

Ron immediately forgot about his two unfortunate brothers. He returned to their original topic, continuing to complain indignantly, "She's just like a never-ending Quidditch ball!"

Eliana had already finished eating and was energetically clearing her things from the table.

"Did you see that! Did you see that! She left again! Her legs were moving so fast!" Ron shook Harry in alarm. "Are we still following her?"

"Waking up at five-thirty every morning, then running a lap around the Black Lake, then practicing Charms on the lawn for an hour—"

He counted on his fingers.

"Then changing in the dormitory, coming down for breakfast, finishing in ten minutes, and then going to the library to read until quarter past eight—"

Harry replied weakly.

So early, the library certainly wasn't open, but Eliana had learned Hermione's Alohomora—and had also learned the Locking Charm from somewhere. Mrs. Pince hadn't even arrived yet when she left.

"Then going to the classroom forty-five minutes early to preview and review—The last time I sat near her, I noticed she was summarizing the key points of each chapter, expanding on the characters mentioned, books, and even exam questions from previous years—Where did she get all that?"

Ron, utterly baffled, let himself off the hook and continued to exclaim, "And that's just the morning!"

"I can't do it anymore, I really can't," Harry lay weakly on the table. "I can't keep up."

Ron nodded vigorously. "I think twisting Malfoy's head off isn't that interesting anymore."

"If we keep following her, Malfoy's head won't be twisted off before we die of exhaustion," Harry said seriously. "After breakfast, I'm going to sleep for a while longer. Luckily, this morning's class is Herbology, not Potions. Otherwise, I'd definitely blow up the cauldron."

"And then Snape will twist your head off," Ron cackled. "You can form a headless team with Malfoy's ghost."

"Go to hell," Harry said irritably. "I'm really going to sleep now."

"Me too," Ron followed him.

They would regret this decision.

Severus Snape woke up with a stern face, looking as if he didn't welcome the new day at all.

What was there to welcome?

It was time for the weekly teachers' meeting again. After the meeting, he had to rush to teach a class to those little brats who couldn't understand a word. He had classes all morning and afternoon today, and he had to brew potions for the hospital wing at night—the hospital wing's medicine was never enough!

These little monsters had weak minds—they'd injure themselves or become deformed for all sorts of strange reasons; but their bodies were quite strong—strong enough to injure others.

The annoying old bee buzzed on. Snape listened—something about caring for students, something about patience and tolerance—he stopped listening.

His gaze was empty as he watched a speck of dust in the light slowly fall to the ground, then another.

After he had watched the descent of the ninth speck of dust, Dumbledore finally shut up, meaning this annoying meeting was drawing to a close.

The last few minutes were for the professors' casual chat, including but not limited to the weather, the food in the Great Hall, the students' bizarre behavior in class, and the heartbreaking realization that students were getting worse with each generation.

Snape half-heartedly paid attention while tidying his things. Now they were talking about students who brought them some comfort. He heard a name mentioned frequently—Eliana Rich.

He had some impression of this student.

Imagine if you were a teacher, having to teach a bunch of brats "1+2=3" every day. While you're explaining, they stare blankly, scratching their heads and picking their noses. Then, when you ask them what 2+1 is, they have the audacity to write down 4!

But then, a student like her appears. During your lessons, she's like a little sunflower, turning to face you wherever you go, her eyes full of admiration as if you're the greatest teacher in the world. You teach her 1+2=3, and she can grasp that 1+3=4, 2+3=5, and even proactively preview 2x3=6. Even if you don't particularly like her, you at least wouldn't have a bad impression of her.

Moreover, although she takes all her classes seriously, she loves your class the most. She loves it so much that if you're teaching another class, she'll still follow you to listen again.

Snape glanced at Flitwick, who was excitedly praising Eliana, and slowly turned his head.

Her only drawback is that she's a Gryffindor.

I wonder if the Sorting Hat's gone senile. Even if she were a Ravenclaw, that would be something.

Dumbledore listened to everyone's discussion, looking quite interested: "It sounds like everyone really admires this child."

Professor Flitwick's voice rose by two degrees with excitement: "I've never seen a child with such talent in Charms. What she demonstrated in my first class was the Explosion Charm!"

"Although it wasn't perfectly precise—this is advanced material, not even in the first-year textbook. And she's a Muggle-born witch, meaning she figured this out on her own—Merlin, how long has she even been holding a wand?"

For some reason, Snape felt that Dumbledore's old face looked a little troubled.

This old bee just loves to put on an act.

Snape sat down behind his office desk in the dungeons, still mentally insulting the bee as usual.

He gets the benefits and then pretends to be wronged.

Suddenly, his door burst open with a bang, and something sparkling silver shot in from the doorway, wailing, "Godfather, Godfather, sob sob sob my hair! My hair!"

Snape lowered his wand, its tip still glowing, and said with a dark expression, "Draco, perhaps I need to discuss your manners with your father. You know, right now you look like a..."

He stared at the hedgehog, still sparkling in the dim dungeon, and was uncharacteristically speechless.

Malfoy's hair, which he cherished dearly and styled with copious amounts of hairspray into a slicked-back look every day, had finally changed its style today—or rather, its form. It now stood up in stiff, silver needles.

Snape pursed his lips and said unhappily, "Draco, I seem to have suggested to you that a young man doesn't need to spend so much time on grooming—what hair-styling charm did you learn this time that went wrong?"

Malfoy was on the verge of tears, looking wronged. "I didn't! Eliana did it!!"

Snape, who had just been lamenting Eliana's unfortunate Gryffindor placement despite her cleverness and obedience, was taken aback:?

During Herbology class, Malfoy's hair had finally returned to its usual softness, not even a trace of hairspray—the little white-haired boy now flinched at the slightest stiffness in his hair—stormed towards the Gryffindor group.

He stopped abruptly a few steps away from Eliana, spotting Professor Sprout already at the greenhouse entrance. Instantly, he puffed out his chest again.

He declared fiercely, "Damn you, Rich, you just wait! Professor Snape is going to have you confined to his office tonight! You just wait!!"

"--What are you laughing at?!"