A Friend Doesn't Need Grand Thanks

As Hermione left, Professor McGonagall turned her gaze to Harry and Ron behind Damon.

When she saw Harry, her eyes paused briefly before she spoke:

"So, you came here recklessly out of concern for your friend's safety, is that right?"

"Yes, yes!"

Harry and Ron nodded repeatedly.

"Friendship made you overlook the danger and terror of the troll. I think this is precisely the unique courage of Gryffindor." Professor McGonagall nodded, her expression softening slightly, which eased Harry and Ron's hearts a little.

But soon, their hearts tightened again.

"I must say, you were very lucky—however, I do not wish to encourage this kind of reckless bravery. Therefore, you will neither gain nor lose points. Now, please leave."

The two exchanged a glance with Damon, giving him a "take care, buddy" look, and hurriedly left the second floor.

Only after climbing two flights of stairs in silence, finally free of the troll's stench, did they fully relax.

"It seems Damon wasn't bragging—he really did spend all his time studying Charms! Did you hear his conversation with the professor earlier? From inanimate to animate Transfiguration—what does that mean?

Are they already classifying Transfiguration by difficulty stages? Professor McGonagall never mentioned any of this in class!"

"Ron, I'm afraid even if she did, we wouldn't understand—remember? We can still only change small, stationary objects, what they call inanimate-to-inanimate Transfiguration."

Harry looked up. The staircase stretched before him like a heavenly path. He trudged upward with his head drooping, his expression a mix of disappointment and envy.

How long would he have to study at Hogwarts to reach Damon's level?

Why did everyone call him the Chosen One? Why hadn't he shown anything special so far?

So ordinary and plain, he felt like the weeds by the Black Lake—everywhere, drifting with the wind. For the first time, Harry felt a surge of desire to grow stronger.

The Common Room was packed and noisy, everyone eating the food that had been brought in. Only Hermione stood alone by the doorway, waiting for them.

For a moment, the two felt awkward.

"Thank you—where's Damon?"

"He was kept behind by Professor McGonagall. Probably has more to say."

Harry answered quickly. For some reason, both he and Ron felt deeply embarrassed and rushed toward their plates.

Hermione glanced at them, then turned her gaze back to the entrance of the Common Room, her hands resting on her skirt as she waited quietly.

In her mind, she rehearsed.

When Damon appeared, she would thank him gracefully and give him a bright smile.

From now on, she would become good friends with Damon and the others.

A perfect plan.

Ten minutes later, a sound came from outside. Damon's hands appeared through the entrance.

Just the sight of those hands made one instinctively imagine that devastatingly handsome face.

Hermione suddenly felt nervous.

She looked down and noticed the pleats of her skirt had been wrinkled by her clenched hands without her realizing.

She smoothed them discreetly.

"Hermione, what are you standing here for?"

Damon propped himself up in the passageway, his smile warm.

He didn't rush forward. Instead, he lay flat against the tunnel, his sapphire-blue eyes fixed directly on Hermione.

Hermione's face began to heat up.

"I'm waiting for you."

She was relieved she could still form a complete sentence.

"Waiting for me? For what?"

The boy's brows lifted slightly with his smile, his face—like a Greek sculpture—suddenly coming to life.

Hermione felt her face grow even hotter. 'My face must be bright red right now!'

She couldn't help thinking.

It was strange. She hadn't planned it this way. The atmosphere wasn't supposed to be like this.

She would thank him solemnly. He would respond properly. They would still be rivals, but also friends who respected each other. And then the matter would be over.

What was happening now?

"Th—thank you."

She said it awkwardly.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

"Oh, so that's what you wanted to say."

Damon suddenly began to crawl forward. With the movement, his body advanced, and the distance between them shrank.

He leaned closer to Hermione, a smile on his lips.

"There's no need to thank me. Remember what I told you before?"

"Wh—what?"

"We're friends, Hermione. Friends don't need grand thanks."

"Here, give me a hand."

His slender hand reached out to Hermione. She instinctively took it, but was surprised to feel thick calluses on his fingertips.

Damon was so young—why did he have such heavy calluses on his fingers?

Her thoughts wandered uncontrollably, and then she heard Damon say:

"Thank you. Let's go eat. You haven't had a proper meal today, have you?"

"O—okay."

Hermione set aside her doubts for now. Their hands touched briefly, then parted.

And so, Ron and Harry gained another "tutor."

Only, compared to Damon, this new tutor was exceptionally strict.

She wouldn't let Harry and Ron directly copy Damon's homework, but she would list the reference books needed to complete their essays and let the two find them on their own.

She also explained the background of some of the buildings they'd encountered during their castle adventures, adding plenty of interest to their outings.

Since the Troll incident, Hermione had become less concerned about breaking school rules, which made her interactions with Ron and Harry go much more smoothly. Any minor friction or disputes were always resolved by Damon's "one-man rule."

Whether it was Hermione, Ron, or Harry, they all followed Damon's decisions without question. Ron even discussed privately with Harry whether Hermione had already conceded defeat to Damon in her heart.

After November, the weather turned bitterly cold.

The mountains around the school were gray and covered in ice and snow. The lake was as cold and hard as quenched steel.

Every morning, frost blanketed the ground.

From the upstairs windows, they could see Hagrid, bundled in his long moleskin coat, wearing rabbit-fur gloves and enormous beaver-skin boots, de-icing the Flying Brooms on the Quidditch pitch.

The Quidditch match Harry had been looking forward to was about to begin.

To cope with the grueling Quidditch training, he hadn't even been able to ask Damon about training in Charms together, focusing all his energy on the match.

On Saturday, he would play in his first-ever game.

Because Snape kept favoring Slytherin students, Gryffindor was currently in second place for the House Cup—if not for Damon's relentless point-earning in Charms and Transfiguration, Harry feared they wouldn't even have second place.

But if they won this match against Slytherin, their House Cup score would jump to first!