When Herman returned to the common room, several people were already sitting on the chairs by the fireplace. When they saw him, someone chuckled, and the boy sitting in the distance whispered something, which was then joined in by the laughter of the others.
Herman ignored them and walked straight through the common room toward the dormitory.
It seems I didn't manage to teach them a lesson last time. I'll find another opportunity to discipline them once my arm is healed.
He'd let them off the hook for now. When he got to the dorm entrance, he saw Draco leaning against the wall by the door, holding half a tube of ointment. " Harry asked me to give this to you."
Herman took it and glanced at it. "Where is she?"
Draco said, "She went back to her room, saying she needs to look at the formula again tonight."
Herman unscrewed the cap of the ointment, squeezed out a little, and applied it to the reddened area on his shoulder. The coolness quickly seeped in, and the burning sensation subsided somewhat.
Draco glanced at him. "The news travels fast. The current version says you got beaten to a pulp by Quirrell in Dark Magic Defence Class."
Herman sighed, "Kids always love to spread rumors. Once my shoulder heals, I'll show them what it means to be scrambling for your teeth."
After saying that, Herman went into the room and closed the door. He put the tube of ointment on the bedside table, took the gray-covered book out of his pocket, put it on his lap, and flipped through it. The contents inside were much more practical than textbooks, and the handwriting was handwritten, like someone's notes.
He sat on the edge of the bed, flipped through a few pages of the book, then closed it and placed it next to his pillow. He leaned back on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a while, hoping the medicine would arrive soon. From what Quirrell said, he would have to be a practice partner in the next class. Being a good student isn't easy.
A few days later, one evening, Snape sat in his office with an open letter on his desk. A dark green shield badge was printed in the lower right corner of the letter.
He had just finished reading Lucius Malfoy's letter, which was about sponsoring the Slytherin Quidditch Team and mentioned the names of several young wizards at the end of the letter, subtly indicating that he hoped Snape could bring them into the Quidditch team at the appropriate time.
Snape folded the letter and set it aside. He then picked up a quill and wrote a few lines on a blank piece of parchment, about the arrangements for the House's affairs next month.
I had just written two lines when there was a knock on the office door.
An older Prefect walked in, holding a list of applications for Quidditch practice facilities for the following month.
Snape took it, glanced at it, signed it, and then casually asked, "Any news from the first-year students lately?"
The Prefect thought for a moment and said, "I did hear something. Professor Quirrell gave a demonstration Dark Magic Defence Class a few days ago, and he called Herman Horace up to be his teaching assistant. He got beaten up pretty badly."
Snape paused, glancing up at the Prefect. "How badly?" The Prefect recalled for a moment. "I heard he rolled around in the classroom a few times, his school uniform was torn, his knees were scraped, and there was blood on his face. It's all over the common room."
Snape paused for a moment, then lowered his head to continue signing the list. His lips twitched almost imperceptibly—a very small movement, but one that suggested satisfaction. "Understood. And the other students? First-year girls, are they behaving themselves?"
The Prefect clearly didn't understand the true meaning of Snape's question. After thinking carefully for a while, he said, " Draco of the Malfoy family is very unruly. She clashed with Professor McGonagall again and lost ten points."
Snape nodded helplessly. Although he hadn't heard the news he wanted, he didn't press further. "Okay, I understand."
The Prefect took the signed list and left the office. After the door closed, Snape put the quill back in the ink bottle, leaned back in his chair, and looked at the letter from Lucius on the table. He hesitated for a moment, looking at the last few names on the letter: Herman Horace, Harry Potter, etc., as if he hadn't made up his mind. Then he folded the letter again and put it back in the drawer.
The next morning, before the sun had fully illuminated the Great Hall, Herman had just sat down at the long table and reached for some bread when he heard a gust of wind overhead.
He instinctively looked up and saw a bulging package falling from the sky, landing squarely on the table in front of him like an airdropped bomb. It made a muffled thud, causing the plate to bounce and the spoon to roll and get stuck on the edge of the table.
Herman was startled by the commotion and shrank back half an inch. Several Slytherin students around him also turned to look, but after finding it was just a package, they turned back to their own quarters.
Herman looked down at the package, its surface a grayish-brown cloth, tied tightly with several rough hemp ropes, bulging as if stuffed full of things.
He reached out and touched it; it was hard, and through the fabric he could feel that it was full of blocky or bottle-shaped objects.
A folded piece of parchment was pasted on top of the package, tied to the outside with a thin hemp rope, as if to prevent it from falling off.
He untied the hemp rope and unfolded the parchment. The handwriting on it was still in Kramer's short, hurried style, exactly the same as in his last reply, and everything was complete.
Finally, he added that due to increased production at the Ashwinder breeding base, the price of Ashwinder -related materials had decreased, so he bought more and had spent the rest of his money.
After reading it, Herman silently calculated in his mind that when Kramer said "bought more," he probably meant that he had used up the entire budget, and the last sentence, "the remaining money was also spent," was probably a euphemism to tell him that there was no refund and no change.
However, Herman didn't mind. It just so happened that the pet enhancement recipe Hagrid gave him also used materials from the Ashwinder, so he folded the letter and stuffed it into his pocket.
He was finally able to concoct medicine and was quite impatient. He felt that his shoulder was getting worse even faster after being grazed by Quirrell's magic last time, and it was even difficult for him to raise his arm.
His gaze swept across the table and landed on Harry, who was elegantly eating across from him, head bowed. "The food has arrived."
Harry looked up, her gaze shifting from the food to his face, then sweeping over the bulging package on the table. "This package? Okay, sure, I'll take it back to the dorm tonight and get ready to brew Potions."
Herman shook his head. "Don't wait until tonight, there are no classes this afternoon. Come with me then, there's somewhere I can use your services."
Harry didn't ask any further questions, simply replying, "Okay."
Draco peeked over from the side. "What's fun? I want to go too!"
Herman moved the package closer to himself. "It's not for fun, it's for alchemy."
Draco immediately lost interest, pouting, "Never mind then, I'll take Crabbe and Goyle to the kitchen this afternoon; they've asked me several times already."
Herman glanced at her. "Eat well and drink well, or you'll grow into Pigwidgeon."
Draco reached out and tapped him on the head, not hard, but it hit his scalp. Herman rubbed his forehead and didn't say anything more.