Hermione's Desire to Win

After following Dumbledore in loudly singing the school song, watching Peeves, and climbing all the way from the first-floor entrance hall to the eighth floor, Damon couldn't help shaking his head inwardly.

This was the one bad thing about Gryffindor—the Common Room was on the eighth floor. From now on, whether it was going to class or meals, it would be quite a hassle. Still, hassle or not, he liked these people, so he'd put up with it.

At the end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very plump woman dressed in pink.

"Password?" she said.

"Dragon Droppings," said Prefect Percy.

The portrait swung forward with a creak, revealing a round hole in the wall. Damon crawled through with interest—and there was the Gryffindor Common Room.

What met his eyes was a cozy circular room filled with squashy armchairs. Portraits hung on the Common Room walls.

At the top of a spiral staircase, Damon found his dormitory—five four-poster beds hung with deep red flannel curtains. Their trunks had already been sent up ahead of time.

Everyone was utterly exhausted, but Harry and Neville still couldn't help saying happily:

"Damon, you're in our dormitory! That's great!"

As for Ron and Seamus, who stood nearby looking like they wanted to say something but held back, they were temporarily ignored.

"Mm-hmm, great, great. Let's sleep first, kids."

Damon had already changed into his pajamas. He waved at the children and fell into a deep sleep—this day had been too novel and interesting for him, and he was more or less tired too.

As for the others, if it hadn't been for the excitement of Damon being in their dormitory, they probably would have fallen asleep the moment their heads hit the pillows.

The coursework for Hogwarts first-years was very relaxed.

On average, they only needed to attend about two classes a day. Apart from the mandatory Astronomy class on Wednesday nights, all other class times were during the day.

The first day of school was Monday. The timetable showed Herbology and A History of Magic in the morning, with the afternoon and evening free.

A pretty loose day, wasn't it?

No alarm clock needed. Damon woke up early that day and looked happily at the sunlight beyond the curtains.

He got out of bed, changed clothes, and washed up, making sure not to make too much noise.

Click.

As Damon gently closed the door behind him, the dormitory fell quiet again. But at that very moment, everyone opened their eyes.

"Damon sure gets up early, doesn't he? There's still a whole hour before class starts."

Ron muttered drowsily, turned over, and buried his face in his pillow.

Harry sat up quietly and glanced at the clock beside his bed—it really was still early. If it had been anyone else instead of Damon, he might have turned over and gone back to sleep too, following Ron's muttering.

But...

Harry looked at the shoes under his bed, gently pulled open the curtains. Sunlight streamed in, the air fresh, carrying a hint of morning mist.

Damon was clearly so outstanding, yet he still got up early, unhurriedly preparing everything. This kind of behavior seemed unusual to Harry, but also very appealing.

"Don't you think we should go check out the classroom a bit earlier?" Harry said softly to Ron, a hint of hesitation in his voice.

Ron wrapped himself tightly in his blanket and let out a muffled grunt. "What's the point of going that early, Harry? I don't want people thinking I'm some overexcited little kid."

"Ron, do you think Damon is that kind of person—"

"Hey! Damon is Damon, I'm me. If you want to go, go ahead. I'm sleeping a bit more."

Harry didn't want to just abandon Ron, but hearing him say that, and thinking of Damon's departing figure, he pursed his lips and got out of bed anyway.

Neville and Seamus were also woken by their conversation. Hearing that Damon had already gotten up, Neville shot up from bed as if pricked by a needle, and silently began washing up.

Seeing that everyone else was up, Seamus climbed out of bed too. For the moment, only Ron was still stubbornly sleeping.

When everyone had finished washing up and was ready to leave, Harry couldn't help turning his head toward Ron's bed and whispering:

"Ron, Ron, are you asleep?"

No response.

Click.

The door closed again. In bed, Ron's eyes were wide open, but he still refused to get up.

Herbology class was held at the back of Hogwarts Castle—to accommodate plants with various temperaments, Hogwarts had specially built a greenhouse there.

Damon strolled leisurely from the eighth floor down to the first-floor Great Hall, enjoying the magical portraits along the way. The figures in the paintings either smiled, frowned, or even turned their heads to follow him with their eyes as he passed.

He found the Gryffindor table. As Damon sat down, the plates on the table automatically filled with bacon, sausages, baked beans, eggs, toast, juice, cereal, and more.

A wide variety, enough to satisfy all kinds of needs. Even in his previous life, Damon had never lived so luxuriously.

Damon took out a copper coin and placed it into the small leather pouch tied to an Owl's leg, then took a copy of the Daily Prophet from its beak.

As the mouthpiece of the Ministry of Magic, Damon wasn't really interested in the main content reported in it. He just treated it as a pastime—after all, seeing a moving newspaper was still pretty novel.

Besides, some of the conversations in the columns felt like reading a small story collection to Damon, which was entertaining enough.

"What are you reading?"

Harry and the others came running over, finding Damon almost as soon as he'd sat down, and quickly took seats beside him.

"The Daily Prophet. You can think of it as the gossip newspaper of the wizarding world."

Damon casually handed it to Harry, who took it on reflex and skimmed a few lines. Aside from a flicker of novelty at the moving pictures, he quickly gave it back to Damon.

"Good morning, gentlemen." Hermione sat down across from Damon. "Oh? Is that a newspaper?"

"That's right. The wizarding world's paper." Damon handed it to Hermione just as casually.

"Where do you subscribe? I think this would help us keep up with outside information."

Compared to Harry's indifference, Hermione was visibly eager.

"Just one Knut. Once you buy the first copy, the Owl keeps delivering the rest."

Damon popped a sausage into his mouth, a blissful smile spreading across his face—only for a stifled shriek to hit his ears.

He turned his head. A few red-faced little witches were staring. He grinned and waved at them—the shrieks grew louder.

"Oh, I can't stand it. A perfectly good morning ruined."

Hermione rolled her eyes, handed the Daily Prophet back to Damon, and wolfed down her breakfast with renewed determination.

First period today was Herbology. Before bed last night, she'd made a point of flipping back through One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.

She was going to outperform Damon this time, no question!

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Teach us something please, Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees, Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff, For now they're bare and full of air, Dead flies and bits of fluff, So teach us things worth knowing, Bring back what we've forgot, Just do your best, we'll do the rest, And learn until our brains all rot.