Chapter 39 Stubborn Hermione
Harry disappeared from everyone's sight with Professor McGonagall.
Since there were no classes that evening and dinner was still some time away,
everyone went back to the common room.
Hermione was a little absent-minded, leaning against Basil's lap in a daze.
Her birthday was the 19th of last month; she had turned 12.
For the sake of the House Cup, as the oldest in the class, she should have stood up and advised everyone.
But no one listened.
The same words from Basil were accepted without question.
She felt so wronged.
So, tilting her head, she couldn't help but ask, "I don't understand. Harry and Malfoy's behavior clearly violated the school rules. How come neither Mrs. Hooch nor Professor McGonagall did anything about it?"
Basil stroked Hermione's fluffy head. "Silly girl."
Hermione (╬￣皿￣): "I'm not silly!"
Basil: "You say you're not silly? You've been in this house for over a month. Don't you understand what our students are like? Let me ask you another question. Who is the most popular in Gryffindor?"
Hermione frowned. "Fred and George."
Basil nodded. "Right! Gryffindors value courage most. So, in the public eye, the Weasley twins, who dare to break the rules and bring them joy, are undoubtedly true Gryffindors. The points deducted, and secondly, the House Cup, are completely unimportant."
Hermione sat up, leaning back on the sofa, very puzzled. "But Professor McGonagall said that the House Cup is the true embodiment of house honor."
"No," Basil quickly denied, "Silly girl, think about the school song, and put it in reality. Rethink it, what does each house value most?"
"Hufflepuff: food, unity. Ravenclaw: wisdom, knowledge. Slytherin: blood, power. Gryffindor: courage, adventure," Hermione answered dejectedly.
Knowing the answer, her mood sank further.
So, what she did before was just being a clown?
Thinking this, she suddenly felt a large hand on her head again.
It was Basil!
Her heart began to leap.
"However, Hermione, Gryffindor needs someone like you. Among the easily angered Gryffindors, there needs to be someone to pour cold water on them. That's why Percy was the Headmaster. In Harry's father's year, it was Lupin. But remember, with those who don't appreciate it, you only need to give them a verbal reminder."
"Give up your helpful instincts, respect the fate of others."
"You're just a student, not a Headmaster or a professor."
"Others won't obey the advice of someone they consider an equal." "
Moreover, some of them will see it as cowardice, as un-Gryffindor behavior," Basil comforted her.
Hermione didn't ask who Lupin was.
She smiled and nodded, "I understand! From now on, I won't interfere with anyone else's affairs. I'll only remind you, um, Harry and Ron, if they make mistakes."
"I'll tell the teacher later, don't be angry!"
You don't understand anything!
That's all Basil wanted to say.
An 11-year-old child, really, doesn't understand anything.
She probably wouldn't understand unless she hit a brick wall herself.
At dinner time, everyone gathered in the dining room.
Harry returned, his face beaming with excitement.
He brought two pieces of news.
One was that he had become the youngest House player in a century.
"You two weren't joking, were you?" Ron asked, pulling a steak and kidney pie from his mouth.
Actually, Basil had mentioned his guess after flying class.
Hermione, unfamiliar with Quidditch (specifically, the unwritten, conventional rules), nodded in agreement.
"And what's the other news?" Ron asked Harry.
Harry was frantically stuffing pie into his mouth.
After a large gulp of chilled pumpkin juice, he said, "Draco Malfoy, he's on the team too. Luckily, his birthday is in June, or I wouldn't be the youngest House player."
"How can that be! That's not fair!" Ron slammed his fist on the table.
He racked his brains, wondering if Malfoy had gotten in through family connections.
But Malfoy's recent tragic fate made it impossible for him to say such a thing.
Didn't that mean Malfoy relied on himself?
Thinking of this, Ron felt worse than dead.
Harry gave Ron an understanding look.
He continued eating, saying, "For some reason, Snape was there too. Next to him was a troll-like Slytherin upperclassman named Flint (Ron: He's the Slytherin Chaser and captain; I suspect he has some troll blood). After hearing that I became a member of the school team, he immediately decided to let Malfoy join as well."
Basil began to doubt his memories.
He didn't have high-resolution images of his past life.
Could Draco Malfoy have joined the school team in his first year?
Or was it changed in the movies?
Or perhaps, with Madam Hooch's permission, Harry and Malfoy's duel became a formal Slytherin vs. Gryffindor match,
attracting the attention of Snape and Flint?
No, Snape doesn't like Quidditch; he doesn't value it at all.
Basil was completely bewildered.
Suddenly, a large group of Slytherin students approached.
Judging from their direction, they had just been outside the castle.
Leading them was Malfoy, and a burly man who looked equally muscular.
Malfoy being able to use a bad curse well in his first year was indeed impressive.
But this was a bit much.
Basil was speechless.
He coughed softly and gripped his wand tighter.
Then he saw them walking towards Harry.
"Are you crazy?! Aren't you looking for me?"
Looking at the pre-created Draco Echo in his mind, almost a deep blue,
Basil was speechless.
If Harry had a system, would his Draco Echo be directly gold?
"Well, well. You must be Harry Potter?" the troll Flint mocked first. "Thanks for sending us such a fine Seeker."
"While you were talking to that idiot Wood, our new player Draco Malfoy was training, adjusting his grip."
"You should understand. Before the adjustment, you were evenly matched. After the adjustment, hmph!"
The Slytherin students behind him let out a synchronized, cold laugh.
"Hmph hmph hmph, hahaha, hmph hmph haha."
"Harry Potter." Malfoy slowly and rhythmically pronounced Harry's name, as if he were pronouncing a lover's name.
That Basil's magic was silent and wandless, something even some older students couldn't do.
Perhaps, even his father could…
Now, let's start with this scarred guy!
"In the official match, you'll understand who the best Seeker is!"
At this moment, Fred and George Weasley walked into the dining room. They saw Harry surrounded and quickly came over.
With one hand on the table, they jumped in front of Harry in a cool pose.
The two pressed close, almost touching Flint. The air was thick with
homoerotic tension!
"Get away from me! Stay away from our new player!"
"Marcus Flint, is this all your troll brain can do?"
Flint sneered, sniffing Fred's head. "A first-year student? Are we afraid of him? Ours are far superior!"
Hermione covered her eyes, leaving large gaps: "Is that Flint a pervert?"
Basil: "Don't judge people by their homoerotic
standards . He's just insulting Fred's height with his actions."
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(End of Chapter)