Chapter Thirty-Six: Flitwick Could Be a Friend / Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Point System Was a Pain

He finally understood a little why Filch was so hysterical.

As a member of Hogwarts who couldn't use magic, he had to face these young wizards every day as they freely learned magic. After spending so long in such an unfriendly environment, it was only natural that the repression would warp his mind.

He seemed imposing, as though every student feared him, but in the end, his authority was nothing more than borrowed power hidden behind the school rules.

That was why Filch had lost control of his emotions when Harry threatened him without regard for the rules.

And just now, Harry had unwittingly torn away the last scrap covering his dignity!

"Mr. Filch, I said something really awful just now. I sincerely apologize! I swear I'll keep your magical condition a secret and won't let a word of it slip!!" Harry apologized sincerely, then extended an invitation. "Also, if you don't mind, would you like to join me for dinner? Think of it as my way of making amends~"

"Hmph! I don't need you to—wait! What exactly are you cooking, and why does it smell so good?!" Filch had been refusing grumpily, but the aroma soon took control of his senses, and he turned around despite himself.

"This is a delicacy from the Great Celestial Empire: hot pot!" Harry cheerfully pressed a set of bowls and chopsticks into his hands. "Come on, give it a try, Mr. Filch. I promise it'll be unlike anything you've ever tasted~"

"Hot... pot?" Filch struggled to repeat the words Harry had spoken in Chinese. "Does that mean a pot that's very hot?"

"Come on, Mr. Filch, you really ought to practice your pronunciation~" Harry patiently corrected him. "It's called 'hot pot,' and it's not a name that should be translated into English!"

To be honest, Harry really disliked hot pot being translated as "Hot Pot." The same went for the translated names of other traditional foods, culture, and so on.

Why could things like sofas and montages from other countries be borrowed through transliteration, while our cultural exports had to be saddled with all these nonsensical translations?

Hot pot was hot pot, not some kind of electric stew pot; dumplings were just dumplings, not soup dumplings or fruit pudding!

If you couldn't get your tongue around Chinese, then put your heart into it and read the words a few more times!

(p.s. Well, I somehow got all fired up about this while writing~)

Chapter Thirty-Six: Flitwick Could Be a Friend

On his first night at Hogwarts, Harry had slept very comfortably with Filch and Mrs. Norris.

He hadn't seen the Ravenclaw dormitories yet, but he doubted they could be any better than Filch's office. At the very least, Filch, the caretaker who often had to patrol at night, surely didn't grind his teeth, fart, snore, or talk in his sleep.

What's more, Harry had a cat to pet. Mrs. Norris was currently resisting any further advances from him, but Harry believed things would gradually improve.

After all, it was hard to be rude to someone who'd fed you. For example, after Filch had managed to eat his way through a hot pot dinner, their relationship had clearly improved. He'd even agreed to pick up a broom and a rag after the meal and help Harry clean the room, which was full of strange odors.

If Mrs. Norris ate a few more of the different kinds of cat food Harry brought her, he was sure her affection for him would shoot up.

Then he wouldn't just get to stroke her, cuddle her, and hold her up high. Harry might even be able to shave and bathe Mrs. Norris without having to worry about her claws!

So, there was nothing a hot pot meal couldn't solve. The way we in the Great Celestial Empire entertained guests was just that amazing~

The next day, Harry was almost the first to arrive in the classroom.

This even surprised Hermione, who arrived afterward, thinking she'd gotten there early.

"How did you find the classroom so easily?" Hermione asked, after tugging Harry by the ear and taking a seat with him in the front row.

Hogwarts Castle had a complicated layout. There were more than a hundred and forty staircases alone, and apparently they sometimes changed direction. For first-years, getting lost was practically an everyday occurrence.

Even Hermione had only managed to find the classroom with directions from an older student.

"Mrs. Norris brought me here. She's Mr. Filch's pet, and she's an absolutely flawless cat~" Harry explained with a smile.

Maybe Mrs. Norris couldn't get anything very good to eat while following Filch around. All it took was one batch of specially made freeze-dried fish that morning, and she happily led Harry to the Charms classroom.

"Hmph, is she better than Crookshanks?" Hermione pouted haughtily. "And... don't use Crookshanks's food to cozy up to other cats!"

"It's just cat food. Don't be so stingy. I can always make more~"

Harry shrugged. He knew what Mrs. Norris was like and was sure that, with his help, she'd soon become a sleek, beautiful cat again.

As for Crookshanks, whether he was good or not depended largely on his owner.

During the break before class, Harry chatted with Hermione for a while. Mostly, he wanted to reassure her that she didn't need to worry about what had happened to him the night before.

Once most of the students had arrived, Harry and Hermione sat up straight together and waited for the professor.

It was the first class of the new school year, and he had no plans to cause trouble.

Although he'd made up his mind to stir things up at school, even bad students came in different grades.

A clever troublemaker might break the rules constantly, but he still needed to understand boundaries and show respect. Picking a fight with a professor for no reason during class, or mocking and bullying weaker classmates for fun, was the absolute lowest of the low~

That's right, Harry was talking about Draco Malfoy.

Many of Ravenclaw's first-year classes were shared with Slytherin, so Harry soon spotted Malfoy holding forth with his two sidekicks.

He laughed loudly as he told his two tagalongs—Crabbe and Goyle—how he'd just made Neville take a nasty tumble in the dining hall.

When he saw Harry, his loud laughter turned to mockery.

"Look, if it isn't the hero who set the Sorting Hat on fire!" Malfoy walked over to Harry and leaned on his desk with a sneer. "How was the cat shit in Filch's room, Harry? Or were you getting spanked by that weirdo while he hung you from the ceiling as we enjoyed our feast~"

"Hung up and spanked?" Harry raised an eyebrow with interest. "That might be a good idea. When you get on Mr. Filch's bad side, I'll be sure to suggest it."

"Oh, you actually call him 'sir' in private?" Malfoy let out an exaggerated shriek. "Harry, you're getting more and more pathetic. You're always trying to make friends with weirdos like him!"

"I think Mr. Filch is a decent person," Harry said, casting Malfoy a cool glance. "Malfoy, remember this: one day, you'll definitely have to apologize to Mr. Filch for what you just said!"

"Hmph! That day will never come!" Malfoy shot back at once.

"All right, children. I think we can begin class now. Are you ready to soar with me through the skies of magic?" A high-pitched voice floated into the classroom from the doorway.

Realizing that the professor had arrived, Draco and Harry immediately stopped squaring off.

The Charms professor was named Filius Flitwick. He was a short, elderly man whose goblin ancestry was plain to see, and he was also the head of Ravenclaw House.

His voice was high-pitched, and because of his stature, Professor Flitwick had to stand on a pile of books when teaching in order to reach the lectern.

Naturally, the sight of him struggling to climb up drew snickers from many students, but he didn't seem the least bit upset. Instead, he kept smiling.

That told Harry that Professor Flitwick probably had a very good temper.

"This is your first class since arriving at Hogwarts, so I think it's important that I get to know everyone. But before that, I have to say..." Flitwick glanced around, then fixed his gaze on Harry. "Mr. Granger, I'm so glad you came to Hogwarts and were sorted into Ravenclaw House. I really—oh my!!"

There was a loud thud. Professor Flitwick, too excited to watch his step, accidentally kicked the books out from under his feet and took a hard fall.

"Professor, are you all right~"

As the person who'd just been praised—and the student closest to Professor Flitwick—Harry hurried over to help him up.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I was just a little too excited~" Professor Flitwick brushed the dust off himself, then immediately took Harry's hand with enthusiasm. "I'm so glad you're here, Mr. Granger. I especially admired what you did yesterday."

"Almost no student dares to challenge the Sorting Hat's authority. The last student who was unhappy with their sorting and asked to leave school outright might have been over a decade ago. And someone like you, who openly protested at the Sorting Ceremony and actually succeeded? That's unprecedented!"

"Professor Flitwick, you're going to make me blush." Harry gave a helpless smile. "I did cost Ravenclaw a hundred points, after all~"

"Points aren't important," Flitwick said, waving his little hands dismissively. "Besides, Mr. Granger's determination brought Ravenclaw a remarkably talented young witch."

"Yes, I couldn't agree more~"

As far as Harry was concerned, just that last remark from Professor Flitwick was enough for them to be friends.

Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Point System Was a Pain

Although they'd only interacted briefly in class, Harry could already tell that Professor Flitwick was an excellent teacher.

He was a learned wizard who could explain every charm carefully and clearly, making it easy for students to understand the essentials of casting one.

He was also a gentle, humorous professor who treated good students and slow learners alike, and the atmosphere in class was quite relaxed.

Most importantly, he really admired Hermione, the brilliant top student.

"As we just learned, the Softening Charm makes an object soft. The incantation is 'Soft as Cotton.' When you cast it, you should picture what the wooden strip will look like after it's softened... Oh, wonderful, Miss Granger has already managed to change the texture of the wood!"

In this Charms class, Professor Flitwick wanted everyone to successfully cast the Softening Charm, turning a hard strip of wood two fingers thick into a soft material that could bend to less than a ninety-degree angle.

After studying and practicing carefully, Hermione was the first to bend the piece of wood into an obtuse angle.

"Although I'm the head of Ravenclaw House, I still have to say that Miss Granger's performance deserves five points!"

"Great, only ninety-five points to go!"

Was she trying to make up for the points he'd taken away?

Hearing Hermione mutter beside him, Harry couldn't help frowning slightly.

The whole competition for points and winning the House Cup might sound grand, but to Harry, it was something he'd already experienced back in school.

The point system was really just a way to wind students up and instill a sense of unity and collective pride, especially in first-years.

But Harry now found himself frustrated to discover that Hermione cared a lot about something he didn't give a damn about.

But then again, Hermione had always been competitive. No matter what she did, she wanted to come first.

That had been true of her test scores in primary school, and it was just as true of the House Cup at Hogwarts.

Thinking of this, Harry couldn't help but lament what a remarkably effective restraint the point system was.

Ever since she'd earned those points, Hermione had kept pouting and glaring at him from the side. That was clearly her warning to stop causing trouble like he had the day before.

So Dumbledore had publicly taken so many points from him the day before because he wanted to use Hermione and all of Ravenclaw House to keep Harry on a leash and make sure he behaved himself at Hogwarts.

But Harry wasn't going to give up.

Whatever he and Dumbledore had between them was far from over. They'd just have to wait and see~

"Mr. Granger, would you like to try the Softening Charm too?"

There was no denying that Professor Flitwick was a real softie. If it had been another teacher, they would've sent Harry to stand in the hallway long ago for ignoring the lesson right under their nose and not even bothering to take out his wand.

"I'm sorry, Professor Flitwick, but for certain reasons, I don't have a wand of my own," Harry explained somewhat awkwardly. "So, perhaps after Hermione's mastered the charm, I could—"

"Haha! Harry, you should at least come up with a better excuse before you start lying!" Malfoy's piercing laughter came from the next desk over. "You went to Diagon Alley too, didn't you? And you're claiming you don't have a wand? Are you going to tell us you're a useless Squib? Oh, I get it now. You can't cast any magic at all, which is why you used that ridiculous Physical Silence Spell earlier!"

"Malfoy, we're in class. If you shut up, nobody will think you're a mute! Besides... what makes you think Harry can't cast magic?!"

Malfoy's jeering clearly angered Hermione. As she scolded him, she even shoved the Holly Wand directly into Harry's hand!

"Fine..." Seeing Hermione's warning look, Harry knew he couldn't keep hiding his abilities today.

Besides, Malfoy really did need to be taught a lesson.

Feeling the Holly Wand's call, Harry held his breath and focused completely!

"Soft as Cotton!"

He flicked his wrist and spoke the incantation clearly. An invisible ripple shot from the tip of the Holly Wand and struck Malfoy's chair with perfect accuracy!

One of the chair legs, which had been hard as a rock, quickly softened into a puddle under the charm. Malfoy lost his balance and fell to the floor, making an even louder crash than Professor Flitwick had moments earlier!

"Ow! Harry, you—damn it!"

Malfoy sat on the floor rubbing his backside in anger, but aside from his two sidekicks, nobody paid him any attention.

The entire class, Professor Flitwick included, was staring at Harry and Hermione in astonishment!

"Mr. Granger, did you just... cast a charm with Miss Granger's wand?!"

Harry's Softening Charm had been flawless. He'd transformed a hard chair into a lump of fluff in one go, and done an even better job than Hermione.

But what astonished Flitwick even more was how well Harry had controlled the Holly Wand.

That wasn't how it looked when someone forced another person's wand to cast a spell for them!

The way Harry had handled it made it seem as though he could use the Holly Wand with the same ease and skill as its owner.

A wand was a wizard's most private magical possession. It could be stolen or inherited, but cases like Harry and Hermione, where two people could both use the same wand with such skill, were incredibly rare!

Professor Flitwick had only heard of a handful of such cases: a father and son passing down a wand, twins sharing a bond, and then there were... devoted married couples!

But even those rare cases probably couldn't match Harry and Hermione!

So, those two children...

"Um... I think Mr. Granger gave an excellent demonstration, but it would be even better if you didn't play pranks on your classmates next time. So I can't award you points for this one."