Hermione Turns the Tables

For William, the Champion ' roster selection is a minor matter.

As agreed with Dumbledore, Four Houses must have someone.

That's why Qiu and Cedric were sent to talk.

If all three houses have Champion, but Slytherin doesn't... where does that leave Professor Snape's depressed face?!

He must be furious... Potions Professor will turn into a point-deduction maniac, indiscriminately deducting points from other houses.

He would also talk sarcastically all day long, constantly saying things like, "Ha~ that's what Champion is," for ten or eight years.

Most importantly, Hogwarts is a whole. Dumbledore doesn't want any one house to be isolated.

If you want to play... you have to bring Slytherin along.

Given this situation, William's approach was quite brutal: simply sell it. Sell it to whoever in Slytherin has the money and who's the fool...

These days, wizards as rich and foolish as Malfoy are a rare breed.

So when he saw Cedric's message that Malfoy had spent 3,500 Galleon... he immediately replied that it was too little, it should be at least 5,000.

Cedric stared at the words, speechless for a long time.

He often felt out of place when he was with William and Cho, realizing it was because he wasn't ruthless enough.

William and Hermione, no longer concerned with the Champion, quickly arrived at Hagrid's cabin.

Early in the morning, Hagrid wrote more than a dozen letters urging them to gather at the cabin, as if something important had happened.

William wasn't sure if it was a big deal or not, but he saw Hagrid carrying Professor Flitwick to the Hospital Wing near the end of the dinner last night.

Thinking about it... it might be related to our own dean.

William knocked on Hagrid's door, and a low Fang sound immediately came from inside.

"You two are finally here!" Hagrid exclaimed, opening the door immediately. "I thought you'd forgotten where I live!"

"We're so busy, Hagrid—" Hermione stopped abruptly halfway through her sentence, looked up at Hagrid, and was clearly too surprised to speak.

Hagrid was wearing his best Armani suit.

This outfit was certainly not his old, ugly brown suit; it was a Christmas gift from Roy to Hagrid.

He had someone take his measurements and then had it custom-made, so it fit him perfectly.

The problem was that, just like when he first went to William's house, Hagrid tried to straighten his hair again, using a lot of machine lubricant.

Wait... what's that smell?!

Fang ran out in terror, seemingly unable to stand the smell inside.

The room smelled really bad, with a strong cologne scent, along with a lot of malt liquor and Rock Cakes aromas.

These flavors mixed together are like fermented beans; just one whiff of them makes you want to vomit.

So, Hagrid's current state can be described as follows:

He was wearing a suit, had his hair in pigtails, a floral tie around his neck, and reeked of disgust.

This outfit didn't suit Hagrid. Hermione stared at him blankly for a moment, then clearly decided not to comment.

"Who are you going to see?" William asked.

"It's not that I'm meeting anyone... it's just that I suddenly feel I should pay more attention to my appearance." Hagrid blushed.

Pay attention to your appearance... I didn't see you paying attention to your appearance when you were drinking with those old ladies at the Leaky Cauldron.

"You two know her... do you think she... would like me?" he whispered. "My outfit?"

"Who?" William raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me it's Madame Maxime?"

Hagrid gave a barely audible "hmm," seemingly quite shy.

William and Hermione exchanged a quick glance.

"But I remember you didn't say that before." William squinted.

"You told us... how did you say it again, Hermione?"

Hermione quickly mimicked Hagrid's tone, saying, "I will never like any woman in my life, no matter how beautiful she is."

"Even if that guy named Maxime stood in front of me, I wouldn't be tempted in the slightest..."

Hermione, with her unparalleled memory, relentlessly lashed out at Hagrid.

"I was young and naive back then!" Hagrid rubbed his cheek.

"Now that I've grown up, I know I'm not young anymore, and it's time to find a woman who cares about me and understands me."

I think she's quite nice.

"..."

Those words were said only last year. Has Hagrid matured in just one year?

"William, don't doubt my resolve!" Hagrid said hoarsely. "I've truly fallen in love with her, Miss Maxime."

Hagrid looked out the window; he could see Beauxbatons ' carriage from there.

Hagrid's expression became utterly entranced, his eyes misty, and he twisted his large hands around his collar, saying:

She surpasses all the fire dragons in the world;

She's cuter than any Hippogriff!

No Blast-Ended Skrewt could compare to a single strand of her beautiful hair!

"..."

Here comes Hagrid's wonderful metaphor! It's probably on par with Newt's metaphor.

Are all the romantic words spoken by Magizoologist this hardcore?

William and Hermione decided to change the subject, and he asked, "Hagrid, how's the Blast-Ended Skrewt doing?"

"In the pumpkin patch outside," Hagrid, sounding a little unhappy.

"They've grown enormous; each one is now easily three feet long."

There was only one problem: they started killing each other.

"What?!" William stood up. "How is that possible!"

Hearing this devastating news was like a bolt from the blue.

Hermione pursed her lips, trying hard not to laugh.

"Oh, how awful, isn't it, William?" she said gleefully.

"That's terrible," Hagrid said sadly, "But it's alright, I've separated them and put them in a box now. There are probably only about twenty left."

This isn't okay?

Last time there were seventy or eighty, and overnight you're telling me there are only twenty left?

William and Hermione sat for a while before leaving the cabin.

Hagrid wasn't there to discuss anything; he was just there to find out Maxime's preferences.

Moreover, upon seeing Madame Maxime emerge from her carriage, he immediately abandoned William and Hermione and ran to strike up a conversation with her.

This intense sycophantic attitude is even more Harry than Cedric's.

As William walked along the road, he was still thinking about the Blast-Ended Skrewt.

He also had a bet with Hermione.

A perfectly favorable situation was inexplicably turned around. It's like a cooked dragon flying away.

That won't do.

He asked softly, "Hermione, do we still stand by what you said last time?"

"What is it?" Hermione feigned a blank expression.

"It's about... the bet," William reminded him.

Hermione asked knowingly, "What about the bet? Explain yourself! My memory isn't very good."

"..."

William said helplessly, "You proposed a bet between us... In the end, you win, but we can each make one condition that must be fulfilled."

"But things are different now; the Blast-Ended Skrewt are almost all dead."

Fortune's wheel turns, and Hermione, now triumphant, happily exclaimed, "Why would I agree to a game I'm guaranteed to win?"

"..."

William chuckled awkwardly.

He used to be in the right and absolutely refused to agree, but now it's her turn to refuse. What a world!

"However... it's not like I can't agree." Hermione's lips curled into a smile, making her look like a little fox.

William looked up quickly and asked, "Really?"

"Really, but the price has gone up." Hermione quickened her pace, put her hands behind her back, and turned around, her eyes sparkling.

You need to agree to two conditions.

Gazing at the cheerful steps of the young girl, William smiled knowingly, his dark green eyes slightly narrowed, his expression gentle.

An empty classroom in the castle,

"Is this the final Champion roster?"

William took the list and looked at it carefully.

Beauxbatons six men, Durmstrang had eight.

These two schools alone earned them a whopping 50,000 Galleon.

Indeed, more events need to be held.

William recalled what he had read in "Hogwarts: Hogwarts, A History":

The four magic schools— Hogwarts, Koldovstoretz, the Mahoutokoro, and Uagadou —host Inter-School Potions Championship.

The winning school will receive a golden cauldron.

Speaking of which, this competition, like the Triwizard Tournament, hasn't been held for many years.

Dumbledore's business is terrible. Ever since he became headmaster, nobody wants to hang out with Hogwarts anymore.

If we don't hold competitions, how will we make money?

This kind of match can allow Harry and Neville to participate.

Especially Neville.

All he needs to do is blow up the cauldron, causing other wizards from different schools to get injured, unable to participate in the competition, or mentally break down.

Hogwarts is guaranteed to win.

William glanced at the famous list again.

Cedric doesn't need to worry about that; he's an adult wizard and just needs to participate normally.

With his ability, he is definitely qualified for a spot on the Champion.

The others needed William to pull strings behind the scenes.

He glanced at the twins again.

Are you two sure you want to compete for one spot?

"That's right, I think it's time to determine who's better between George and me," Fred laughed.

"Yes, this is a good opportunity!" George said earnestly.

The two suddenly decided not to participate at the same time, but instead to use the Goblet of Fire to determine who was stronger.

Indeed... twins are always inseparable, and everyone wants to know who's more capable.

"Alright," William said softly, "In that case, not counting Cedric... Hogwarts only has five Champion."

Five Champion... which means we need to add more.

Harry and Ron, who had already been discharged from the hospital, both felt their hearts pounding.

They learned from the twins that... William could break the Age Line and secure a spot on the Champion roster.

Come and take a look, I also want to become Champion!

Ron, in particular, stared longingly at William.

"William, what do you think of us?" Harry asked quickly, suppressing his excitement.

William shook his head. "Harry, you're not cut out for it. Dumbledore strictly warned you not to become Champion."

"Oh, I see..." Harry was utterly disappointed.

"Me? Me? William!" Ron swallowed hard. "Do you think I can do it?!"

William glanced at Ron.

Even disregarding the fact that Ron is the twin brother, just considering that Malfoy and the captain of Slytherin are both capable of buying their way into the top ranks.

William had no reason to refuse Ron.

No more than one person on either side.

But he still asked cautiously, "Ron, are you sure you want to participate? Many people have died in the Triwizard Tournament; it's very dangerous."

Once you've decided to participate, there's no way to back out. It'll be too late to regret it later.

"No, I won't regret it!" Ron readily agreed.

This is Champion!

Once you become Champion, you can enjoy the spotlight.

Only a fool would regret it!

William nodded and said, "Alright, since you've decided... let's add one more spot."

Ron looked at William with excitement. From that moment on, he had officially bought the title of "Little Brother William."

"Go and make a commotion to draw everyone to the playground," William instructed.

Everyone excitedly went outside.

Ten minutes later, William and Hermione walked into the empty Great Hall.

He stood outside the Age Line, waving his wand.

The blue and white flames in the Holy Grail suddenly began to flicker, the tongues of fire swirling around and crossing the Age Line, sweeping away all the dozens of names Hermione was holding.

William said softly, "This competition... will definitely be very interesting."

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