Professor Snape and Master Charlemagne were fighting over Prewett

Tonight is a clear night.

Silan and Hermione slipped out of the Great Hall and walked into the courtyard, where the moonlight on the ground looked like a layer of fine salt.

The two shadows were illuminated by the moonlight, swaying slightly with each step, occasionally parting briefly, only to overlap again in the next instant.

Almost all the students were in the Great Hall, and it was extremely quiet. The night air in early November was a bit chilly.

Silan and Hermione slipped out of the Great Hall one after the other.

When they first stepped out of the Great Hall, they kept a little distance between them, but perhaps because the moonlight was dazzling, or perhaps because the night wind was too cold, the two of them walked closer and closer until they were almost touching.

Silan removed the Order of Merlin, Third Class, from his chest and put it into his Ring.

"Why did you put it away, esteemed Mr. Prewett?" Hermione skipped a step forward, twisting her waist as she turned to look at him.

She even deliberately wore her robe as a skirt, pulling at it with both hands as she curtsied.

Silan readily raised his hand, bowed in return with a courtly gentleman's salute, and winked, saying, "Before you, I have no titles to boast of."

"Really?" Hermione tilted her head and looked at him, counting on her fingers, "Senior Potioneer in his Third Year, and he even received the Order of Merlin, Third Class. These are all very rare achievements; I'm quite envious."

After Hermione finished speaking, she deliberately turned her head away from Silan, as if she felt ashamed in his presence.

It's not entirely Hermione's fault for being pretentious.

She did indeed feel a strange sadness in her heart.

Silan seems very close to her now, but Miss Granger always feels that Silan is getting further and further away from her.

As a friend, Hermione was genuinely happy for Silan's achievements.

But out of a strange sense of selfishness and possessiveness, she felt that Silan was gradually drifting away from her.

This made her a little uneasy.

Unable to shake off her anxiety and self-reproach, Miss Granger's mind was in turmoil, leaving her feeling terrible.

Silan stepped forward and walked around to stand in front of Hermione: "But if you take away all these titles, who am I?"

Hermione lowered her head, thought for a long time, and then said, "You are Silan."

She didn't even include her surname.

It seems that only after removing all titles and all symbols that flaunt one's identity can Silan truly be Silan.

Silan reached out and cupped Hermione's face in her hands, looking into her eyes, and continued, "So who's with you now?"

"Silan..."

Silan moved closer and asked again, "And who's with me this time?"

Hermione.

After saying her name, Miss Granger couldn't help but laugh, then took a step back shyly and covered her face with her hands.

"My face feels a little cold," Hermione said, trying to cover it up.

Silan smiled and walked over to her, standing close beside her without saying a word.

It was extremely quiet all around. Not a single cloud could be seen in the clear night sky, except for the crescent moon hanging in the heavens.

Hermione suddenly realized. "So, the change in the distance between people all begins in their hearts."

Silan is Silan, Hermione is Hermione.

As long as they shed their titles and simply offer their hearts to each other, the distance between them will never change.

Once she understood this, the weight that had been pressing on Hermione's heart suddenly lifted and shattered.

A gust of night wind, and it vanished without a trace.

The two walked around the courtyard and were about to go back when they suddenly ran into Charlemagne.

This Potions Master appeared out of nowhere, and it was unclear how long he had been waiting. As soon as he saw the two of them, he spoke directly.

"Mr. Prewett, are you really not going to consider learning Potions from me?"

After saying that, Charlemagne, completely lacking any semblance of a master's demeanor, glanced back slyly and said rapidly, "When you go to Hogwarts, you have to buy your own Potions Ingredients. You'll come with me to the Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, and the guild will cover all your expenses."

Hermione was taken aback, looking at the expressionless Potions Master, and couldn't help but think, "The president of the Extraordinary Society of Potioneers actually came after us to poach someone?!"

This is highly unusual.

The eerie atmosphere sent chills down Hermione's spine. She took a step back and whispered, "You two talk, I'll go first..."

"No need," Silan said crisply, taking her hand. "Thank you for your kind offer, but I'd much rather study at Hogwarts."

"This is the second time you've rejected me. How audacious," Charlemagne said, frowning.

"Perhaps there will be a third time."

Silan spoke without fear, gently touching Hermione's fingertip to reassure her.

"Ah..." Charlemagne's eyes flickered as he looked at Hermione, saying meaningfully, "Although this isn't exactly standard procedure, I'm the guild master, so I can make an exception and let you bring someone along. Like this person next to you..."

Hermione gripped Silan's hand tightly, her face flushed, and exclaimed, "Friend!"

"Whether it's a friend or a girlfriend, it's fine as long as you're willing," Charlemagne said nonchalantly.

Hermione's face turned even redder.

"Charlemagne! Shut up!" Snape charged forward, his black robes billowing violently like a bat flapping its wings.

He rushed in front of the three men, first stretching out his arm to block Charlemagne, then squeezing his entire body in front of him, forcefully separating the three of them.

"Don't go too far, Charlemagne," Snape warned coldly. "This is Hogwarts, Prewett is my student."

Charlemagne took a step back Snape avoid Snape spitting in his face.

He said expressionlessly, "Prewett is only your student temporarily."

"I am the president of the Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. You are a registered Potioneer, so you should listen to me."

Snape sneered, reached out and ripped open his robes, shielding Silan and Hermione behind him like a mother hen protecting her chicks, and declared without backing down, "Even if I leave the Society, I'm still Potions Master."

He glared at Charlemagne, inwardly cursing, "Luckily I noticed the old man wasn't there and followed him out for a look."

"How dare they poach my students right under my nose! They have absolutely no regard for the dignity of a Potions Master!"

Hermione's eyes widened as she stared blankly at Silan.

Two Potions Master disregarding all decorum and vying for a single student—this is unheard of.

Silan looked completely innocent; this had nothing to do with me.

By this time, the banquet seemed to have ended.

The students poured out of the Great Hall, and were somewhat stunned to see the two Potions Master locked in a fierce confrontation.

The students in front didn't move, and the students behind couldn't move either; they all started shouting angrily.

"What's going on? Let's go!"

"Damn it, stop pushing! Take your wand away, it's bumping into me!"

"What exactly happened up ahead?" someone asked.

Those at the front of the line were also a bit confused, and tentatively said, "It seems like Professor Snape and Master Charlemagne are fighting over Prewett?"

These words were relayed from one young wizard to another.

"Professor Snape and Master Charlemagne are at each other's throats! Apparently, it's over Prewett!"

"Don't push, I saw it! It was Prewett who took down Professor Snape and Master Charlemagne!"

By the time the news spread, it had become "Professor Snape and Master Charlemagne have teamed up to kill Dumbledore!"

"What kind of nonsense is this!" The student behind him turned pale and moved forward with difficulty, hugging the wall.

The students in front, always eager for a good show, called their friends and gathered around with great interest.

The students slowly dispersed.

The students behind them surged forward one after another, and were all taken aback to see Snape and Charlemagne locked in a fierce confrontation.

Throughout the entire Wizarding World, any Potions Master is an extremely rare existence.

Moreover, these two are both heavyweight figures: one is the president of the Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, and the other is the youngest Potions Master of our time.

They disregarded all decorum and started fighting over a Third Year junior wizard?

Who would believe that if I told them?

"What's wrong? What happened?" Ron pushed through the crowd and turned to ask a Gryffindor student.

The student replied blankly, "It seems Master Charlemagne is trying to steal someone from Professor Snape."

"Who?"

"Prewett!"

Ron and Harry exchanged a surprised glance, then quickly craned their necks to look beyond the crowd.

Snape and Charlemagne exercised maximum restraint, refraining from physical violence, but their words were far from polite.

"If you're going to teach students, you should at least wash your hair," Charlemagne said, scoffing.

"That's still better than you, you fanatic," Snape retorted.

"You weren't even born when I was learning Potions!" Charlemagne was unusually angry.

Snape remained unmoved, and retorted sarcastically in his uniquely eccentric tone, "So all these years you haven't Improved Wolfsbane Potion, haven't you just wasted your life?"

Charlemagne froze on the spot, his eyes twitching.

"Is this going to turn into a fight...?" the students wondered.

... Divider Line...

One million words! A milestone!

I've finally written about a third of it (approximately).

In short, this book is a very long novel, and a million words is just the beginning.