Collecting a little interest first

The Quill, saturated with Ink, hovered in mid-air, a speck of black ink clinging to its tip, seemingly about to fall.

After the initial two seconds of scalp tingling subsided, Gavin remained frozen in his pen-holding posture, his gaze returning to the heavy, ten-pound hardcover book in front of him, and he slowly realized something was wrong.

Without making a sound, he traced a wisp of the Super-Sensory Charm down the pen, sweeping it around the first page of Parchment.

Like--

Something's missing?

The very instant Gavin withdrew his senses, a very slight rubbing sound suddenly came from under the soft pillow behind him.

The "Book of Ten Thousand Spirits Calculation," which had just been severely beaten last night and was worried about not having a chance to redeem itself, keenly sensed its master's movements.

The Black Book peeked out from under the pillowcase, its cover automatically opening a crack, revealing a line of sycophantic print on the first page:

[Master! After meticulous testing by this Calculation Book, this Contract is completely flawed—]

Gavin didn't even lift his eyelids. He reached behind him with his free left hand, slapped the cover of the black Diary, and shoved it back under the pillow.

He squeezed out two words from the corner of his mouth.

"Shut up."

The Black Book under the pillow instantly became quiet, not even daring to shake its pages anymore.

Gavin turned his gaze back, looked up at the girl opposite him who was resting her chin on her hand, waiting for his signature, and raised an eyebrow:

"I remember the Unbreakable Vow, but we need to find a witness. Where is the witness?"

Cordelia's long eyelashes trembled, and a thin blush quickly spread across her fair ears.

She picked up the bamboo chopsticks that were pressing down on the booklet, turned the chopsticks around, and tapped the back of his hand lightly.

"No witnesses are needed. This is the Rowle family's exclusive, improved version. It's effective as soon as you sign it!"

"Really?" Gavin feigned curiosity. "There are such good things?"

Cordelia was immediately somewhat displeased:

"Are you going to sign or not? If you don't, I'll feed the Xiaolongbao to my Fang!"

As she spoke, she reached out with her other hand, as if to knock on the bamboo lid of the steamer.

"Sign. Sign immediately."

Gavin stopped teasing her, lowered his head, and placed the Quill on the signature line at the end of the first page. With a deft flick of his wrist, he neatly signed his name.

[Gavin Gu (Gu Wen)]

The pen tip scraped across the rough Parchment, making a soft, rustling sound.

The paper was perfectly calm, without a trace of the spark that would solidify the Contract.

Cordelia, however, watched with exceptional focus.

She pulled the booklet back in front of her, carefully examined his signature, and then gently blew on the still-dry Ink before nodding in satisfaction and snapping the hard cover shut.

The girl picked up the heavy book and placed it on the small cot next to her, then turned around and looked down at him.

"From now on, you have to listen to me, understand, Party B?"

Gavin put the Quill back into the Ink Bottle, his posture impeccably upright.

"Yes, sir."

Cordelia was very pleased with his sensibility, and a smile curved her lips as she finally handed him the pair of bamboo chopsticks.

Gavin eagerly took the bamboo chopsticks, reached into the steaming Xiaolongbao of xiaolongbao on the left, and steadily picked up one.

Bring it to your mouth, gently bite open a small piece of the thin, translucent dough, sip the piping hot, delicious meat broth inside, dip it in the vinegar on the side, and then put the whole bun into your mouth.

The rich aroma of pork fat, mixed with the fresh scent of scallions and ginger, melts instantly on the tongue.

Gavin had originally intended to casually compliment the kitchen's cooking skills, but the words Gavin in his throat as he suddenly slowed his chewing.

He lowered his head, said nothing, and swallowed the warm soup dumpling little by little.

Suddenly, a memory flashed through my mind: the day I returned to China in my past life, at the service area on my way home from the airport, the first Jiaxing rice dumpling I opened.

When you peel off the bamboo leaves, the glutinous rice is still stuck to the dark green leaves. The heat hits your face, and the first bite is also this temperature that makes your nose inexplicably tingle.

After wandering around in this other world for so long, it wasn't until he tasted this hot food that he truly felt more real about coming home.

Cordelia noticed that he had stopped moving.

She didn't ask any further questions, but simply pushed the Xiaolongbao an inch closer to him, her voice softening:

"Eat slowly, there's plenty more in the kitchen."

Gavin looked up, smiled at her, and picked up a second Xiaolongbao with his chopsticks.

"You made Pipi do it?"

"Um."

Cordelia sat down on the chair beside the bed, resting her chin on her hands as she watched him eat, a hint of a smile playing in her eyes.

"Last night, when Madam Pomfrey went up to the Seventh Floor to deliver the news, I sent Dibby to the kitchen to inform Pipi. When Pipi heard that you were awake, she was so happy that she did three somersaults in the kitchen and almost bumped her head into the oven."

"Before dawn this morning, it ran to the Seventh Floor to confront Professor Dumbledore, crying and begging the headmaster to allow the purchasing department to send in several more live pigs."

Gavin paused for a moment while picking up the shrimp dumplings with his chopsticks:

What's the point of having so many pigs?

"It told the principal that many parts of Chinese cuisine require pork, and it can't make Mr. Gu's favorite dishes without pork," Cordelia said, her eyes crinkling.

"The principal agreed?"

"Of course. Professor Dumbledore was also very happy and approved the note on the spot. Everyone was delighted to hear that you were awake!"

Gavin nodded, picked up the bowl, and took a big gulp of the thick, creamy chicken and mushroom congee.

Everyone is happy?

Those pigs probably don't think that way.

Not long after breakfast was taken away, the news that "Gavin Gu has finally woken up" spread throughout the castle.

Taking advantage of the free time during the morning classes, visitors poured into the private ward in waves.

The gifts brought by the professors Splinching the Hogwarts faculty and staff's unique understanding of the phrase "suitable for recuperation."

Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick arrived together.

As soon as the head of the Herbology entered, she placed a large pot of lush, green greenhouse plants topped with red berries on the windowsill. Patting the soil around the edge of the pot, she cheerfully told Gavin that he could pluck a couple of leaves to chew on whenever he was hungry, and that they would grow back the next day.

Cordelia actually pulled a small notebook out of her pocket and earnestly asked Professor Sprout how many times a day to water it and whether it needed to be fertilized with dragon manure.

Gavin leaned against the headboard, his eyelids twitching as he listened, worried that his next hospital meal would turn into eating potted plants.

Professor Flitwick, standing on a small stool, smiled and waved his Wand, illuminating the transparent glass ball that had been placed to the left of Gavin's bedside a few days earlier.

The glass sphere slowly floated into the air, its interior glowing with tiny silver lights, and rows of Levitation Charm structures made of three-dimensional Ancient Runes slowly rotated inside.

"I was thinking the other day that when you wake up, you'll definitely enjoy tinkering with this little gadget!" Professor Flitwick's high-pitched voice was full of joy.

Gavin was immediately drawn to the Ancient Runes structure inside the sphere and reached out to fiddle with it.

Before he could even take a second look, Professor Flitwick had already turned his head and looked gently at Cordelia beside him:

"You look much better, Miss Rowle. Every time I came the past few days, she told me, 'You'll wake up soon.'"

The short professor paused, looked up at Gavin on the hospital bed, and his expression became more serious:

"Don't make her wait like this again, Mr. Gu."

Professor Sprout, standing nearby, immediately nodded in agreement and casually shoved Cordelia, who had been standing and greeting people, into a chair.

"Exactly! This child has been staying by your side for the past three weeks without a break, and he's lost a lot of weight. Gavin, you'd better treat Miss Rowle even better from now on."

Cordelia was suddenly scolded by the two deans, and her ears turned bright red all the way to her neck. She lowered her head and began to arrange the water glasses that had already been laid out on the table, softly calling out "Professor".

Professor McGonagall arrived next.

The vice principal first inquired carefully about Gavin's mental state, then took out a thick stack of the latest issue of "Transfiguration Today" and several cutting-edge academic papers from his arm and neatly arranged them on the bedside table.

"Madam Pomfrey said you need to rest for a couple more days, so these are for you to keep you entertained." Professor McGonagall's voice was unusually gentle. "You don't need to write a reading report this time."

Gavin just breathed a sigh of relief.

Professor McGonagall pushed up her square glasses and added:

"Once you're discharged from the hospital, we can have a focused discussion at the club about the third paper on the derivation of cross-species morphological stability."

Gavin's lips twitched, and he could only obediently nod.

Before turning to leave, Professor McGonagall's gaze also fell on Cordelia, who was quietly peeling an apple beside her, and then she glanced back at Gavin:

"Don't let Miss Rowle's efforts go to waste, Mr. Gu."

After that, the style of visiting the sick completely went off the rails.

While Madam Pomfrey turned to go to the outer room to prepare the medicine, the door frame of the ward was suddenly blocked. Hagrid bent over and leaned in, his eyes red, and placed a bulging burlap sack heavily on the only remaining space on the bedside table.

Clang!

The solid wood bedside table groaned under its weight.

"It's so good to see you're alright, Gavin!" Hagrid wiped the tears from his beard and said in a deep, relieved voice, "Ron and Harry told me that you love my Rock Cakes the most, so I baked a whole batch for you this morning!"

Before the words were finished, Madam Pomfrey's stern rebuke came from outside:

"Rubeus! Get your mud-caked boots out of my room! Now!"

Hagrid shrank back, not even bothering to exchange a few pleasantries, hurriedly waved his large, fan-like hand at Gavin, and then ran off in a flash.

Gavin bent down, untied the burlap sack, and tapped the top piece of Rock Cakes —dark, hard enough to crack Walnut with—with his index finger.

Two crisp, sharp sounds.

Gavin raised his head expressionlessly and looked at Cordelia beside him:

"Do me a favor. Get two bags and separate these stones into two large bags."

Cordelia glanced at the bag of murder weapons, immediately understood his plan, and, suppressing a laugh, pulled two thick brown paper bags from under the table:

"For Potter and Weasley?"

"Since it was recommended by those two good friends," Gavin said calmly, "When they arrive, I need to see them accept this heartfelt gift with my own eyes."

Later, Cedric, Cho Chang, Tracy, Daphne, and other familiar classmates came over and sat for a while, bringing fresh fruit and greetings.

Without exception, everyone who came in to visit Gavin would look at Cordelia with a mixture of admiration and concern before leaving, and then turn to Gavin and give him a few earnest words of advice.

In the end, Cordelia was too embarrassed to look up anymore; her fair cheeks flushed red all the way to her ears. She could only pretend to be focused on tending to the few bellflowers in the vase.

Gavin leaned back on the soft pillows, watching Cedric and the others leave, his heart growing heavier.

It's over.

The "King of Hogwarts" has become the "Brother of Hogwarts".

After these twenty-one days, the entire school has clearly reached a highly unified World War I.

If he dares to argue with Cordelia in the future, forget about reasoning with her; if he even raises his voice slightly, the entire school, from the four deans to students from all departments, will probably line up to put a sack over his head.

The ward was quiet for a rare moment.

Professor Sprout's potted fruit and vegetable planter stood on the windowsill, Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration paper and Hagrid's Rock Cakes were piled on the bedside table, and the Ancient Runes levitating ball on the left was still slowly spinning in mid-air.

Gavin casually picked up his water glass, took a sip of warm water, and inadvertently looked up, his gaze passing over the half-open wooden door of the ward and landing on the corridor outside.

He paused slightly as he drank the water.

In the shadows of the corridor, a tall, slender figure in Black Robes appeared out of nowhere.

Snape did not step inside.

He stood three steps away from the door, his hands tucked into the wide sleeves of his Black Robes. His cold, empty black eyes swept across Gavin on the hospital bed through the threshold.

Their eyes met briefly in mid-air.

Snape's face was expressionless, not even the corner of his mouth twitched. He turned around decisively, the hem of his Black Robes drawing a cold, hard arc on the stone floor, and strode away from the corridor.

Gavin looked at the empty doorway, took another sip of water, and a slight smile played on his lips.

Tsk, what a tsundere.

It wasn't until the bell rang for the end of the second period in the morning that a series of hurried, chaotic footsteps finally echoed from outside the corridor.

Rolf, Justin, and Ernie, along with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, appeared at the ward door almost simultaneously, eager to squeeze in.

Madam Pomfrey immediately blocked the doorway, sternly warning them that they were only allowed to stay for fifteen minutes and that anyone who dared to make a sound would be immediately kicked out. Only then did she step aside to let them in.

As soon as the six people rushed into the ward, Gavin's nose twitched.

A strange, overpowering odor—a mixture of stale, aged mugwort, rosemary, and cheap incense—instantly overwhelmed the scent of lilies in the ward.

Looking up again, he saw that his six good friends were all covered in dust and dirt, their hair was a mess, and even Ernie, who was the most particular about his appearance, had his collar askew, and his eyes were full of resentment and despair.

"Where did you six go?" Gavin raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Did you go into the Forbidden Forest and disturb the Ashwinder's nest?"

Justin slumped onto the stool at the foot of the bed, his voice terribly hoarse.

"Don't even mention it... Gavin, if you don't wake up today, the six of us will go see Merlin in your place!"

"What exactly happened?" Cordelia looked over curiously as well.

"Divination!"

Ron rolled his eyes in exasperation, grumbling as he pulled open his collar to cool off:

We clearly heard you were awake during breakfast this morning, and we had planned to come over right away for the first Divination!

Harry pushed up his round glasses and chimed in with a wry smile:

"We had barely climbed up the North Tower, and before we could even say a word, Professor Trelawney pointed at the crystal ball and screamed."

"She said she saw your soul in the stars last night, drifting further and further away in the gale of the underworld, and this morning was the darkest moment when your soul was completely lost."

Gavin's eye twitched.

You know what, those charlatans really are amazing.

Justin slapped his thigh in grief and indignation:

"She said you were the only student in the entire third grade who understood the secrets of the Celestial Eye! To save you, she immediately used Spell to Trapdoor on the floor, threw three large handfuls of dried mugwort into the Fireplace, and forced the six of us, your best friends, to sit hand in hand around the fireplace to help her summon your soul!"

Ernie, with a stern face and still shaken, straightened his crooked tie and added:

Hermione and Rolf explained to her at least seven times that you were awake that morning. But Professor Trelawney insisted that we were having a collective hallucination due to excessive grief and forced us to close our eyes and shout your name in unison into the air through the smoke for two whole class periods.

Hermione stood by the bed, her chest still heaving slightly, clearly seething with anger from the North Tower attic. She slammed the notebook she was holding onto the bedside table.

"That complete and utter old liar! If the window in the North Tower weren't too high to jump from, I would have been gone in a heartbeat!"

Gavin looked at his six good friends in front of him, who were covered in the smell of temple incense and whose voices were hoarse from shouting, and fell into a deep silence.

Professor Trelawney's line of thinking is quite clear.

If he doesn't come back, send your friends over to keep him company.

To soothe everyone's wounded hearts, Gavin sincerely thanked them and then solemnly stuffed the two large bags of Hagrid's Rock Cakes that Cordelia had just packed into Harry and Ron's arms.

"Thank you for your hard work. Hagrid came over specifically to say that you two strongly recommended this to him; it's my favorite snack."

Harry and Ron's hands suddenly sank.

The two men looked down at the two packets of Rock Cakes in their arms, each with sharp edges and enough to break a person's toes through the kraft paper, and their expressions instantly cracked.

"You're welcome," Gavin with a smile, looking at the two of them. "Good friends share the good times. Remember to eat slowly back in your dorm."

Ron, clutching the stone cake, was on the verge of tears.

Taking advantage of the moment when Harry and Ron backed away, Rolf, who had been squeezed to the side, finally managed to grab a spot by the bed.

This boy, who usually wore a carefree smile wherever he went, opened his mouth as if he was about to cry:

"You're finally awake, Gavin."

Gavin looked him up and down and noticed that his eyes were red and teary. He was about to tell him that he didn't like men.

However, before he could even speak, Rolf began to sob and complain.

The overwhelming resentment that had been building up for three whole weeks finally found an outlet. He grabbed the edge of the bed, his voice so mournful it almost cracked:

Do you know what kind of life I've been living for the past month?!

Ernie, standing next to him, reflexively raised a finger:

"To be precise, it's been twenty-one days since the accident, Scamander."

"So—it's only been twenty-one days? Not even a month yet?"

Rolf muttered to himself, then suddenly turned his head, his eyes red:

"No way! You try sitting in the front row of Potions Class for twenty-one days! What's the difference between that and being imprisoned for a hundred years?!"

Gavin raised an eyebrow. "You didn't move to the last row while I was away?"

"I've moved!"

Rolf's accusations were tearful and impassioned:

"The next Potions Class after your accident, I rushed into the classroom with my backpack and squeezed into the last row! But as soon as I sat down, Professor Snape was standing on the podium, staring at me expressionlessly—asking if I had forgotten that I had said I wanted to 'observe the master's skills up close'!"

Justin, standing nearby, added gleefully, "Professor Snape immediately moved his cauldron to the very center of the first row, less than two feet from the podium."

"Without you by my side, he stands in front of me every single class, watching me cut the ingredients!"

Rolf clutched his head, feeling like his whole body was about to shatter.

"Ten points are deducted for cutting an inch too thick, and ten points are deducted for stirring even half a beat too slow! Twenty points are deducted every class, and Hufflepuff's points are almost all gone! We also have to write a self-criticism essay at least three feet long after class! I haven't had a moment to breathe for the past three weeks, and I haven't had time to do anything else!"

Gavin looked at him sympathetically, thinking that this was worse than going to jail.

At least Azkaban didn't have to write papers.

Cordelia, who had been sitting quietly listening, suddenly looked up and blinked her silver-gray eyes:

"But didn't you go fishing at Black Lake last Thursday afternoon despite the heavy rain?"

The ward fell silent for a second.

Justin and Ernie both turned to look at Rolf.

Rolf's expression stiffened for a moment, then he stiffened his neck and cried out in a self-righteous manner:

"I wrote my thesis while it was raining, with Parchment pinned to my fishing rod holder! I simply couldn't write anything without looking at the calm water!"

"Tch~"

Justin scoffed.

"Come on, it's one thing to fool us, but stop fooling yourself. You just want to see Lu again—mmm—"

Before Justin could finish speaking, Rolf blushed and covered Justin's mouth.

Gavin couldn't help but laugh out loud, which aggravated his still-recovering spirit, causing him to cough lightly twice.

Seeing this, Hermione quickly took a step forward, moved the stack of lecture notes that had been on the bedside table closer to him, and asked with concern:

"You just woke up, don't listen to their nonsense. I've organized all the notes you missed from the Charms and Transfiguration over the past three weeks, and marked the important and difficult points next to them. Once you've fully recovered, I'll help you catch up."

She leaned down to point to the notebook cover, closing the distance between them slightly.

Gavin could clearly see a dark ring of dark circles under her eyes, indicating that she hadn't slept well for the past few days. In the side pocket of her canvas satchel, there were several Parchment letters with frayed edges.

Looking at Hermione's earnest face so close to his, Gavin's mind, which had just been bombarded by "Derek and Hermione's tragic love story, the White Peacock Patronus, and the blood-stained embrace in the stone niche" in the parallel world, suddenly twitched.

The imagery is incredibly vivid.

I have PTSD.

Having just burned its source energy three times and not yet fully recovered, the brain experienced a momentary short circuit in that instant.

His mouth beat a beat faster than his brain, Gavin as if possessed:

Hermione, what are your thoughts on Draco?

The noisy laughter and chatter in the ward suddenly stopped.

Hermione's finger, which was resting on the notebook, stopped. She straightened up and blinked blankly.

"... What's the meaning?"

Gavin turned and looked around.

From Harry and Ron to Rolf and the other two, and even Cordelia standing next to him, everyone looked at him with bewildered expressions. Clearly, no one understood this nonsensical statement.

Gavin was caught in a dilemma, so he had no choice but to be even more direct in his remarks:

"What I mean is, you probably... maybe... have no chance of liking him?"

The air froze completely.

Hermione froze on the bedside table, her face turning deathly pale in an instant, then flushing bright red within two seconds.

Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the strap of her schoolbag, and her chest heaved violently.

I was already seething with anger after Trelawney forced me to be her savior for two classes in the North Tower that morning. And to make matters worse, I finally got to see Gavin, only to be met with this utterly absurd question.

Hermione's eyes were visibly red, large tears welled up in them, and she bit her lower lip tightly, glaring at him, her voice trembling.

"How could you say that?!"

She took a deep breath and shouted with all her might:

"I might like pigs and dogs, but I'd never like a jerk like him!!!"

Without giving Gavin even a second to explain, Hermione grabbed her bag, turned around, covered her face, and ran out of the ward crying!

With a bang, the half-closed wooden door was slammed open and shook twice.

Gavin remained leaning against the pillows, staring at the empty doorway. He paused for two seconds, then subconsciously let out a long sigh of relief.

Good news! The test passed. Hermione in this world didn't fall in love with Malfoy, and she's 100% back in her original world.

Bad news--

He seems to have gotten himself into serious trouble.

The ward was deathly quiet; not a single person could laugh.

Ron's face was so dark it could drip ink, and he stared at Gavin incredulously:

"Are you crazy? Are you out of your mind, Gavin?!"

After saying that, Ron shoved the bag of Rock Cakes into Harry's hand and ran after Hermione.

The remaining Harry, Rolf, Justin, and Ernie exchanged bewildered glances, their eyes filled with a strange, almost mad look as they stared at Gavin.

Gavin glanced down at the neat stack of class notes Hermione had just put down on the bedside table, notes with annotations in different colored Ink even at the edges. The sense of relief he had just felt, that the world was back to normal, vanished instantly.

Things seem quite serious.

He had only meant to make a joke on a whim, but he hadn't expected Hermione to react so strongly.

That remark seems to have really hurt the other person.

Cordelia, standing nearby, put down the fruit knife in her hand, her brows furrowed, and her tone carried a hint of resentment:

"How could you say such things to Hermione? How could she possibly like that shameless bastard Malfoy?"

Harry nodded as well:

"That's right, he's almost killed Buckbeak!"

Gavin paused slightly, then looked up:

"Buckbeak? What happened to it?"

Malfoy missed the first class; did Buckbeak get into trouble again?

Cordelia sighed, and she and Harry, each taking turns speaking, recounted what had happened during the three weeks Gavin was in a coma.

Malfoy's arm, which he fractured at the Quidditch Pitch, was set by Madam Pomfrey on the first day, and after a few days of rest, he Reparo and returned to the classroom.

Because he missed the first class on Care of Magical Creatures, Malfoy was still holding a grudge after hearing that Harry and Gavin Hippogriff in class and made quite a splash, while he was the only one who hadn't gotten a chance to ride one.

"Therefore, he never forgot about this matter."

Cordelia said coldly.

"Last Friday, when we had our Care of Magical Creatures with Gryffindor, Hagrid had assigned everyone to take care of Flobberworm. Malfoy insisted on causing a scene in class, demanding that Hagrid bring Buckbeak out for him to ride, and even threatened to write to his father, Hagrid, if he wasn't allowed to ride him."

Harry, standing to the side, clenched his fists in anger and chimed in:

"Hagrid was afraid he would actually go to the Board of Governors and complain, so he had to go to the paddock and drag Buckbeak out. Hagrid had clearly reminded him several times that he must bow first and absolutely must not insult the Hippogriff; the whole class heard him!"

"And the result?" Gavin asked, frowning.

"As a result, Malfoy couldn't even get on his back before the accident happened."

A cold glint flashed in Cordelia's eyes:

He walked up to Buckbeak, and before he could even finish bowing, he raised his chin and loudly mocked it—'What's so great about it? You're still scared of a Hufflepuff.'

Gavin froze on the headboard, a twitch appearing at the corner of his eye.

... Is he involved in this?

"Buckbeak was immediately enraged and scratched his arm with its front paw."

Cordelia continued:

"Actually, no bones were broken at all, and Madam Pomfrey healed him in ten minutes. But Malfoy deliberately wrapped his arm in bandages to feign serious injury, and that very night he had Owl send a letter to his father. Lucius Malfoy immediately filed a formal complaint with the Board of Governors and the Ministry of Magic's Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, insisting that Buckbeak was an extremely dangerous creature that attacked students without provocation and demanding its immediate execution."

Harry's fists clenched so tightly they cracked, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"And it's not just complaints! For the past two days, Malfoy has been deliberately hanging out with his arm, which had long since healed, outside Hagrid's Hut fence every day after class, accompanied by Crabbe and Goyle!"

"He gestured like Macnair, the executioner of the Ministry of Magic, sharpening his axe in front of Hagrid, and loudly joked with Goyle— "

"He said his father had already spoken to Macnair, and that the beheading should be done with the dullest axe, in three separate cuts."

"He even said he'd chop off Buckbeak's wings to make feather dusters to hang in the Slytherin Common Room, and sell its horse legs to be made into glue in Knockturn Alley! Hagrid, afraid of causing Professor Dumbledore trouble, didn't even dare to talk back. He crushed the rough wooden bucket he was carrying and could only lead Buckbeak to the back of the house with red eyes..."

"It's not just about causing trouble at Hagrid's place."

Justin, who hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise, suddenly spoke up with a cold expression, his face full of anger:

"Gavin, when you first had the accident two weeks ago, he was too afraid to say a word. But by the third week, when you still hadn't woken up and even the professors started sighing when they mentioned you, he thought you were definitely dead!"

Ernie, his face also stern, gritted his teeth and replied:

"He didn't dare to be insolent in front of Miss Rowle, so while Miss Rowle stayed by your side at the Hospital Wing, he pointed at your empty seat for three weeks and made sarcastic remarks during a general education class."

"He said something like, 'The seat's empty anyway, might as well have Madam Pomfrey nail a lid to the bed in the Hospital Wing and bury it—after all, those Mudblood who crawled out of Azkaban have their lives pretty much over here!'"

At this point, Ernie glanced furtively at Cordelia, whose face was slightly cold beside him, and said in a low, indignant voice:

"He even maliciously slandered Miss Rowle behind her back... saying that the Rowle family had lost their minds, abandoning the dignity of Pure-blood to cling to a rotting living dead. He also spread rumors that Miss Rowle hadn't dared to show her hands these past few days because she must have been crippled by the backlash of the Dark Magic emanating from you!"

Cordelia listened expressionlessly, without even raising an eyebrow.

Gavin, sitting on the bed, gently squinted his eyes.

It's one thing to insult me, but to insult my girlfriend?

"But that's not even the most disgusting thing!"

Rolf slammed his fist on the iron railing at the foot of the bed in a fit of rage, his voice trembling.

"To help Hagrid save Buckbeak, Hermione stayed up for over two weeks researching every single Fantastic Beasts immunity case in the library. She humbly wrote over a dozen long letters to several senior members of the committee, begging them to give Hagrid a chance to testify."

"Then, at breakfast the day before yesterday, in front of half the Great Hall, Malfoy pulled out the original handwritten letter that Hermione had sent to Mr. Burke, a senior member of the committee!"

Gavin's eyes narrowed slightly. "How did the original end up in his hands?"

"Burke is Lucius Malfoy's drinking buddy!"

Harry's chest heaved with anger as he gritted his teeth and said:

Malfoy stood by the Long Table, and in a high-pitched voice, read aloud the passage from Hermione's letter, pleading with her, which drew a burst of laughter from the Slytherin class! After he finished, right in front of Hermione, he tore the eight-page letter she had spent three sleepless nights writing into pieces, and casually tossed them into the oatmeal porridge bucket next to him!

Rolf clenched his fists tightly and recited Malfoy's exact words verbatim:

He looked down at Hermione with a smile and said, "Granger, you don't really think the bigwigs at the Ministry of Magic would read a piece of trash written by Mudblood, do you? Mr. Burke went to the Malfoy Manor for afternoon tea yesterday and casually showed this letter to my father as an after-dinner joke—my father read it and then gave it to me to use for polishing my boots!"

He even yelled at Hermione, "Your backer is a cripple who can't even lift his eyelids! If you kneel down right now and beg me for that stupid big guy, or go to the Hospital Wing and drag Gu Cong off his bed to shine my shoes, maybe I'll consider letting my dad leave that beast with a whole corpse!"

"If Professor McGonagall hadn't walked into the Great Hall and stopped us, Harry, Ron, and I would have shoved our Wand into his mouth right then and there!"

The ward fell completely silent.

Cordelia's fingers, hanging by her sides, curled slightly. Looking at the silent Gavin, she added one last sentence:

"So, Hermione was already extremely aggrieved these past two days, and what you just said was like stabbing her in the wound."

Gavin lowered his eyelids, looking at the stack of class notes on the bedside table, the edges of which were neatly annotated with colored Ink. The last trace of a smile on his face slowly disappeared.

After a moment of silence, he nodded very seriously:

"It was my fault today. I'll apologize to her when she's calmed down and is willing to see me."

He paused, then looked up at Harry:

"As for Buckbeak's matter, leave it to me. Harry, go to Hagrid later and get me a copy of the complaint notice from the Ministry of Magic; and once you've explained things to Hermione, borrow those case files for me to review as well."

Harry's eyes lit up suddenly, and he even forgot about the heavy Rock Cakes in his arms:

"Gavin, do you have a way to save Buckbeak?!"

Rolf, Justin, and Ernie, who were standing nearby, immediately perked up and crowded around him, curiously watching him, waiting to hear how he planned to overturn the verdict in court, or how he would get Newt Scamander and the Board of Governors involved.

However, Gavin did not immediately discuss the legal provisions.

He simply reached out his right hand, pulled a blank Parchment from under the bedside table, flattened it, and retrieved the Quill from the Ink Bottle:

"I'll handle the lawsuit step by step after I've reviewed it."

"Before that, I need some Potions ingredients."

Harry paused, then asked, "Potions ingredients? For Buckbeak?"

"For Malfoy."

"You... you... you..." Rolf exclaimed in fear, "You're not planning to poison him, are you?"

Cordelia frowned as well. "Don't do anything reckless, or you'll end up in Azkaban again."

"Don't worry, it's just a small punishment."

Gavin lowered his head, his pen gliding rapidly across the Parchment, quickly writing a few lines:

[Mature Fluxweed leaves (with intact veins), complete molted skin of the African Tree Snake, Knotgrass with retained nodules, Moonstone Powder.]

After writing these four things, he paused for a second, wrote the last line, blew on the ink to dry it, and handed the note to Rolf beside him:

"The first four items are easy to find. The last one, Bicorn Horn powder—remember, both horns must come from the same Bicorn, grind them separately, and store them in two separate bottles; they absolutely cannot be mixed together."

Rolf took the note and glanced at it, recognizing the commonly used ingredients in the first few Polyjuice Potion. However, he frowned when he saw the last line:

"Grinding the left and right horns of the same Bicorn separately? The horn powder sold in the Diagon Alley herbal shops is all ground together... This kind of specially packaged powder needs to be freshly ground from a private source with whole horns."

"That's why I came to you, Master Scamander." Gavin patted the back of his hand.

Rolf, seeing that familiar calm in his eyes, not only didn't find it troublesome, but grinned excitedly, carefully folded the note, and stuffed it into his pocket:

"Leave it to me! I'll get it for you in three days!"

After handing over the materials, Gavin turned his head to look at Cordelia, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, and asked in a serious tone:

"Sir, according to Article 3 of the Contract we just signed, does boiling this constitute violating regulations by handling dangerous materials?"

Cordelia glanced at him, recalling Malfoy's smug expression in class, and gave a soft snort:

"No, that's self-defense, and I've given you special permission."

Thank you for your approval, client.

Gavin smiled slightly and carefully placed the Quill back into the Ink Bottle.

"Then let Mr. Malfoy pay some interest first."