The Girls' Emotions and Predicaments

Outside the castle, Daphne walked along the stone-brick path of the greenbelt.

The usually aloof pure-blood heiress now had flushed cheeks, as if she had just run an eight-hundred-meter sprint.

She was in a good mood.

Born into a pure-blood family that had yet to decline, everything was fine except for one problem: she had no friends.

The pure-blood children she had interacted with before were all of the same caliber—every word and action represented their family, and they had to consider future family relationships, strictly adhering to the Pure-Blood Family Etiquette Code.

But when she was with Tom, it was different. She didn't have to worry about any superfluous formalities and could truly interact like an innocent little girl.

"Ahh~" Daphne sighed.

She suddenly found the rule in the Pure-Blood Family Etiquette Code about "no physical contact between men and women" extremely annoying. It said that girls should maintain reserve and distance when interacting with boys, regardless of whether the other party was a pure-blood or an ordinary wizard.

This meant that every time Daphne wanted to chat with Tom, she had to come up with an excuse, like discussing textbook content or some other serious matter.

If only she were a boy.

If she were a boy, she wouldn't have so many restrictions. She could even frequent the boys' dormitory, lying in bed after curfew and chatting with Tom about life.

She had also heard that Tom had a habit of working out. She wondered what those muscles felt like to the touch?

Back when she attended pure-blood gatherings, she always heard those aunts and aunties whispering among themselves, saying things like, "Wizards who work out and have muscles are the most satisfying."

She had no idea what that meant.

As she was lost in thought—

Bang! Thud!

Too absorbed in her musings, Daphne collided head-on with someone, and both of them fell flat on their backsides.

"Sorry, are you alright?"

Following the etiquette code, Daphne immediately stood up to check on the other person.

"Are you... that stupid lion?"

Daphne instantly recognized the person before her.

Hermione Granger. She remembered Tom mentioning her name, and they had shared the experience of watching a spectacle together during the flying lesson last time.

"A Slytherin?"

Hermione slowly stood up with Daphne's help.

"You seem distracted. Is something on your mind?" Daphne expressed concern.

Among all the Gryffindors, Daphne only had a favorable impression of Hermione.

Her family often said that Gryffindor students were all stupid lions who acted without thinking, but Hermione was clearly different. This was evident from her performance in class over the past few days.

Hermione frequently raised her hand to answer questions, earning Gryffindor quite a few points from the teachers.

She was an unusual stupid lion.

"I feel like I'm really bad at socializing." Hermione seemed to have found an outlet, pouring out all the thoughts she had been holding in for a long time.

She had been completely ostracized by Gryffindor.

She didn't understand why—just because she hadn't joined the fight during the flying lesson...

For the sake of group honor, she often answered questions in class to earn points. To act more like a brave lion, she had even reported a few classmates for copying homework...

Why, as she did more and more, did she receive more and more coldness?

The girls in her dormitory would go to the bathroom together but deliberately leave her out. Now, in Gryffindor, she didn't have a single friend, not even anyone willing to talk to her.

"Uh..." After listening to the description, Daphne stood there dumbfounded. It was a long time before she finally spoke: "I take back what I thought of you before. You really are a stupid lion, and the stupidest one at that."

Gryffindor might represent bravery and righteousness, but it also represents recklessness and stubbornness.

"? Why?" Hermione didn't understand.

"Not fitting in, showing off your knowledge and stealing the spotlight, tattling... Just these alone are enough to sentence you to death."

At that moment, Daphne felt that the Pure-Blood Family Etiquette Code was actually quite necessary—at least it could prevent situations like this from happening.

"Then what should I do?" Hermione's expression fell even further.

"It's simple. While you can't make people like you, you can make people need you." Daphne smiled faintly.

With her family's upbringing, she was more mature and sensible than most children her age.

"Need me?"

"Exactly. As long as you perform well enough, those kids your age will naturally come to you for help when they run into trouble."

Hogwarts was different from ordinary Muggle schools. To advance from first year to second year, you couldn't just spend a year at the school—you had to pass the final exams, or else you'd be held back.

Every year, many lazy young wizards would desperately seek help with tutoring at the end of the semester.

"You mean I just need to keep answering questions in class every day and be a good student?" Hermione was starting to catch on.

If she could help enough people, she would naturally gain a group of friends.

"That's not enough. If you want those who once excluded you to swallow their pride and beg for your help, you have to show overwhelming excellence."

"You're saying I need to get all Outstandings on my end-of-term exams?"

"Term's still far off. If you want to resolve this quickly, consider the Dueling Club. If you can fight and beat all comers, that'll be proof enough of your excellence."

Everyone at the magic school came to learn magic, and the Dueling Club was the best channel to test a student's prowess.

"I... think I understand." Hermione clenched her fist.

As the ultimate overachiever, she'd already learned about half of the first-year spells, making her the best among the Gryffindors her age. If it came to getting a good result in dueling...

She had confidence.

Noon.

Brewing potions was a time-consuming and labor-intensive process, requiring long hours of watching the heat and ingredient states.

Moreover, the fumes produced during brewing and the leftover dregs afterward were troublesome to handle.

Now that Aurors were everywhere in Hogwarts, anyone caught secretly brewing potions could be arrested on the spot.

That was why Tom had chosen the Room of Requirement as his place to dispose of the evidence.

"This room really lives up to its name—it even has an automatic cleaning function." Tom looked around.

He had never cleaned the Room of Requirement, yet every time he entered, it was spotless as if new.

"By the way, don't you need my help brewing the potion?"

Beside him, Voldemort on the back of Quirrell's head asked.

He hadn't expected that his original body had not only forgotten the spells but also how to brew potions. His N.E.W.T. scores back when he graduated were all Outstandings, and he was an old hand at potions too.

"I need to develop myself; brewing potions must be relearned as well." Tom said as he pulled out a handful of ingredients.

Grinding what needed grinding, juicing what needed juicing...

Beside him, Quirrell explained the brewing method.

However, though Quirrell was a top student, he was clearly better at Defense Against the Dark Arts and fell slightly short in potions.

So while Quirrell taught, Voldemort would chime in with optimization suggestions.

The teaching combo of a theoretical top student and the Dark Lord—probably no student in all of Hogwarts history had ever enjoyed such a level of treatment.