After hearing George's words, Herman took a moment to realize that he still had his Goblin alchemy book with Marlene.
She had previously suggested an equivalent exchange, offering to prepare a learning plan for him, but Herman thought that would take a few days, and at most it would be a suitable introductory tutorial, which he could then ask her for answers to when he had questions.
I didn't expect it to be finished so quickly, and the professor even sent someone to deliver the message. He's so responsible, a stark contrast to that Potions Professor who discriminates against his students.
If only Hogwarts had professors like these, then it would be a normal school!
Since the professor was so enthusiastic, she should reciprocate. Herman nodded. "Okay, please let me know."
George looked at him, seemingly quite pleased with his attitude. "Quite polite, unlike other Slytherin."
As he spoke, he made a face at the Slytherin students who were staring at them.
Herman heard the sound of forks scraping against the bottom of plates from the side. Someone seemed to be cutting the plates in half as if they were George's brothers' bodies, while several others stared intently at George and Fred, biting their bread as if they wanted to swallow them both.
Fred chimed in, his tone slightly more serious George's. "Since you've been so polite, I'll give you a friendly reminder: Professor Malin can be quite cold at times, so it's best not to provoke her then, like today."
Herman asked curiously, "Cold? Is your face also pale? How often does this happen?"
George recalled for a moment, "About once every twenty days or so, what's wrong? You can cure diseases?"
Herman said "Oh," and lowered his voice, "It's probably just those few days every month for women."
George and Fred both paused for a moment, then George slammed his hand on the table, as if a long-standing mystery had suddenly been solved. "Just like my mom!"
Fred nodded in sudden understanding. "Then I understand."
Looking at their expressions, Herman felt like he had casually answered a philosophical question about life. Could it be? These two brothers' comedic talent was truly astounding.
George patted Herman on the shoulder, his tone now more sincere. "Not bad, kid. I've got your brains, unlike the other Slytherin who only think with their asses."
He raised his voice noticeably when he said this, and several Slytherin students looked up at the same time, their forks stopping in their hands. Then some of them stood up, ready to rush over.
It seems they're all old acquaintances who were pranked by these twins before.
George and Fred had clearly anticipated this reaction. As Fred stood up, George had already taken a half-step back; their movements were as swift as a cat and its shadow.
George pulled a pea-sized object from his pocket and threw it behind him. The object exploded in mid-air, releasing a thick, yellowish gas that quickly dispersed, carrying a nauseating odor.
Several Slytherin students covered their mouths and gagged. Taking advantage of the chaos, George and Fred had already run several meters away and rushed towards the entrance of the Great Hall.
Snape stood up from the professor's seat, his face ashen, and waved his wand. A gust of wind blew in from the direction of the corridor entrance, dispersing the yellow gas.
Herman, seeing Snape's swift reaction, suspected the real reason was that Snape had been secretly observing Harry sitting opposite him, and upon seeing Harry in the center of the battlefield, immediately made his move.
Snape turned to McGonagall, his voice low, but Herman could feel the chilling anger even from halfway through the Great Hall: " Professor McGonagall, Gryffindor students are openly causing trouble in the Great Hall; they must be severely punished."
McGonagall calmly finished her meal, placed her fork on the edge of her plate, and then glanced up at him.
"It's just a student prank; kids' mischief shouldn't be made a big deal out of nothing. No need to deduct points; I'll just warn them."
Before Snape could say anything more, McGonagall added, "And they're clearly hiding from your students. What's that called in Muggle law again?"
As she said this, she glanced at Quirrell, who was sitting not far away.
Quirrell, head down, was chopping vegetables on his plate. A former student of McGonagall and now the professor of Muggle Studies, he instinctively looked up at the question and replied, "Emergency evacuation."
McGonagall nodded in satisfaction. "Very true. It's a pity Quirrell graduated, otherwise I would give Ravenclaw an extra ten points."
Quirrell realized his mistake only after answering. He'd been begging Snape to make Potions, how had he offended him?
Then he saw Snape's gaze turn to him, those dark eyes fixed on him, the expression on Snape's face roughly translated as: Whose side are you on? Or do you no longer need my Potions?
Quirrell managed a weak twitch at the corner of his mouth, his mind racing as he tried to figure out how to salvage the situation.
He lowered his head, pretending to look at the food on his plate, but his peripheral vision caught sight of Herman below. His eyes lit up, and he immediately had an idea: he needed to change the content of the next lesson.
I'm sorry, kid, it's your own fault for offending Snape without even knowing it.
If you suffer a little, I'll get the healing Potions. At worst, I'll secretly teach you something real to make up for it.
Quirrell looked up at Snape again, his expression returning to its usual gentle and polite smile, as if his previous remark had been unintentional.
Snape glanced at him, then at McGonagall, knowing that the score was lost for good.
I just didn't expect karma to come so quickly. I only sided with Harry yesterday, and today McGonagall got her revenge.
He remained silent for a few seconds, then sat down again, his gaze unconsciously drifting towards Herman's direction.
Herman was sitting at the long table cleaning the soup that had splashed onto his sleeves when he felt that gaze and instinctively looked up, his eyes meeting Snape's.
There was no anger in that gaze, but Herman felt there was a "you just wait" message hidden within, and a chill ran down his spine.
He quickly lowered his head, pretending to examine the patterns on the bread.
Before she could even process the unease brought on by that look, several upperclassmen Slytherin students with rather unpleasant expressions had already gathered around her.
George and Fred had already run far away and were naturally out of reach, so their anger was naturally transferred to Herman, who was still sitting there and hadn't had a chance to run away.
The leader's gaze swept over Herman's face. "Are you familiar with them?"
Herman hesitated for a moment. "I'm not... very familiar with them, do you believe me?"
The man's companion sneered, "Not even that close, and he's already sitting next to you with his arm around your shoulder? You just wait until tonight."
Herman opened his mouth to explain, but the other party clearly had no intention of listening to him. The fact that no fight had broken out yet was probably because the professors were watching the Slytherin table and didn't dare to make a move on the spot.
After making those harsh remarks, the group turned and left, but after a few steps they turned back and glanced at him again, their eyes seeming to say: This isn't over.