Chapter 132: Lupin's Interesting Discovery
Draco Malfoy was in a bad mood.
It's no wonder he was disappointed; Hermione's attitude towards him was completely different from what it had been two weeks ago.
The passionate kisses of the past are like a fleeting dream; the cold faces of today are the cruel reality.
How did they get to this point? Draco had absolutely no idea what the logic behind it was.
All he knew was that he hadn't had a proper conversation with Hermione for about two weeks; she was always avoiding him—in an awkward and clumsy way—which bothered and bothered him immensely.
Once, he encountered Hermione in the hallway and tried to greet her with a smile, but when she saw him, she suddenly raised the book in her hand, covered her face, and walked away.
"She's avoiding me, isn't she?" he asked Gore, who was standing next to him, suspiciously.
"Well...maybe she didn't see you..." Gao said vaguely.
However, in the days that followed, her methods of evasion became increasingly clumsy.
For example, during herbalism class, he went to a corner of the greenhouse to get his tools and saw her almost trip over a bag of dragon dung on the ground. Instinctively, he reached out and helped her up, briefly touching the girl he had been longing for.
The girl, feeling dizzy, turned around to thank him, but as soon as she saw it was him, she immediately stood up straight, pushed him away, dusted herself off, and pretended that she hadn't seen anyone.
"Are you blind?" Draco asked with a double meaning, referring both to her almost tripping over the dragon dung because she couldn't see it and to her guilty conscience about pretending not to see the living person in front of her.
He immediately regretted uttering that pun.
Why would someone so recklessly equate themselves with "dragon dung"? It's utterly foolish.
Hermione's reaction to this was anything but ordinary.
She brazenly ignored him! Pretending not to hear Draco's words at all, she continued to disregard him, instead addressing the round-faced, unfortunate boy walking up behind him: "Neville, did you just call me?"
"No! I, I, I didn't call you." Neville looked at the platinum-gold back of Draco's head and inexplicably felt a surge of anger rising from him.
Like a small animal struggling to survive alone in the wilderness, Neville keenly sensed the approaching storm. He left those words behind and wisely slipped away, even abandoning his plan to collect the tools.
"Neville, where's the shovel you went to get?" Susan Burns' voice drifted over from nearby.
"Oh, I'm going to use my hands," Neville said, still shaken, as he diligently used both hands to alternately dig at the soil in the pot.
Draco, watching Hermione's darting eyes, felt a touch of exasperation. "Could you please stop—"
"I think you did speak to me, Neville." Hermione glanced at Draco, then flung her messy brown hair at his face before quickly walking past him, making a show of saying this to thin air before making her escape, to reinforce her point.
Her fragrant hair was so infuriating! Draco stared at her departing figure, a fleeting twist appearing in his otherwise calm expression.
Her defiant avoidance made Draco restless. This wasn't the shy avoidance she used to have—that was rather amusing.
Right now, she was genuinely angry with him, and in his opinion, this anger came on rather inexplicably.
For a moment, he wished he could drag this arrogant girl back, pin her down in the thick, lush umbrella flower bush next to him, and kiss her stubborn lips without any mercy.
He kissed her until she softened and begged for mercy. Draco fantasized viciously—about doing something drastic to appease her.
"Draco, what are you standing there for?" Harry asked, looking confused as he passed by. "She's already far away."
"Have you realized that Hermione is avoiding me?" he said ominously to Harry. "She's so naive, isn't she?"
Harry chuckled awkwardly. He glanced at Draco's expression—deciding not to remind him—and the way he was gritting his teeth at the umbrella flower didn't seem like the behavior of a mature boy.
"I noticed something was off about you guys a few days ago. Did you offend her?" Harry asked.
"She's absolutely unreasonable!" Draco said angrily to Harry.
His fear of certain species was not unfounded.
He had experienced that war in his past life and knew long ago which side the giants and werewolves would ultimately choose, a fact that had always troubled him. Hermione's tolerant and kind attitude towards the werewolves and giants yielded no reward.
Therefore, he was very wary of them and often tried to persuade her to be more vigilant, fearing that she would take exceptions like Lupin and Hagrid as the norm and regard those cruel villains as good people who could be won over.
If she misuses her compassion, trusts someone too easily, and is thus betrayed and falls into a pitiful state, who can save her? Who can guarantee that they will always arrive in time to rescue her before she is harmed?
She needs to learn to be more vigilant.
However, Draco did not expect that his well-intentioned reminder would provoke such a strong reaction from her.
When did he ever show her the slightest contempt? He was talking about werewolves and giants, so why did she deliberately put herself in the line of fire and insist on associating herself with them?
"Can't you just sincerely apologize to her?" Harry said. "Now she's always glaring at Ron and me, making sure we're doing our homework, or she's constantly asking me about the golden egg!"
"What exactly is that golden egg of yours—"
"I'm doing my research!" Harry said hastily. "And that's not the point! What have we been living these past few days? Not a moment to breathe! When you guys were on good terms, at least she'd let us play card games for a bit—"
"I didn't say anything wrong, why should I apologize?" Draco said angrily. "Besides, I tried to apologize, but she completely ignored me."
Over the past few days, he had tried to show her kindness many times. But each time, she rejected his kindness and even started ignoring him.
"About this—" Harry said quietly, "I did hear her mention it once. She said you didn't realize your mistake at all."
"Of course I don't realize it, because I did nothing wrong!" Draco glared at him.
"It's hard for me to judge this without any clear reason. Can you tell me what exactly you two are arguing about?" Harry asked.
"No!" Draco said, his neck stiff. Their affair was none of anyone's business; besides, Harry, who was close to Hagrid, would probably side with Hermione more than him, so how could he understand his concerns?
"Your answers are exactly the same," Harry said, clicking his tongue. "Even your expressions are a bit alike."
"You don't understand," Draco said, deep in thought.
"Then let's find someone who understands this and discuss it," Harry said. "This stalemate can't go on."
Draco didn't say anything more. He absentmindedly shoveled soil from the flowerpot, stealing glances at the girl's brown hair, a little regretful that he hadn't helped her a little longer—even just a second more.
January 21st, Hogsmeade Village Open Day. Draco was still feeling melancholy because of Hermione.
As he dejectedly stepped into Weasley's Wizarding Tricks, his eyes suddenly lit up. He hadn't been to the shop in a long time and hadn't expected such a dramatic change.
The store has been magically expanded. The entire first floor has been doubled in size, with more shelves stacked up to the ceiling. Different types of products are meticulously organized and managed, with several labels flashing in vibrant colors atop the shelves, allowing customers to quickly find items of interest.
There's a magic basket near the entrance. The handle of the basket flashes with the specific price of the item placed inside, and there's also a row of constantly changing prices on the basket's edge, representing the total value of the goods inside.
"Lupin came up with this, isn't it brilliant? He borrowed ideas from Muggles," Fred said happily. "It greatly reduced our workload. No one asks us for prices over and over again anymore, and settling the bill is much easier."
"He's a genius," Draco praised.
"And here too!" He led Draco down the stairs, showing him the cellar.
There were more goods piled up here than before, arranged very neatly. It seemed that the space had been greatly expanded. On the other side was a brand-new kitchen, with rows of newly purchased ovens, a long, gleaming table, and several cabinets holding sparkling cups, plates, and bowls.
"Lupin organized it; he would sometimes cook for us or something," Fred said with reminiscence. "He was a pretty good cook."
"Where is he now?" Draco raised an eyebrow. He was somewhat interested in this skilled craftsman who had modified the Weasleys's Magical Tricks Shop.
"He's busy upstairs. Can you go by yourself? I still need to tell Verity something…" Fred said.
Draco nodded and began walking upstairs. With only a few steps left, he could faintly hear the sound of jazz music. Pulling back the curtain at the top of the stairs, the sound grew louder—Lupin's old-fashioned phonograph, which had once been in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, came into view, playing cheerful music in the corner of the workshop.
The workshop, which used to be cramped and dark, has become more spacious and bright than ever before, and has even been systematically divided into several work areas.
Lupin was facing away from the doorway, swaying slightly to the rhythm of jazz music, waving his wand as he cast a spell on an ornate witch's hat.
He heard a noise at the door, turned around, and saw Draco.
"What a rare guest!" he said with a grin.
Draco nodded slightly, giving him a subtle glance.
He had gained some weight in his face and was no longer so thin. A magenta shop robe had replaced his old, tattered clothes, and the color of the robe made his previously pale and weak face look rosy and healthy. He looked much younger than when Draco had last seen him.
"How was last week?" Draco asked.
Last week was the day Lu Ping was drinking the wolfsbane medicine; it must have been a very difficult time for him.
"Fortunately, the potion was very good and relieved a lot of my pain." Lupin flicked his wand and turned the music down a bit. "I have to admit that I had some doubts about your potion-making skills before—but as it turns out, appearances can be deceiving."
"Should I thank you for your approval?" Draco smirked, striking a haughty pose. "The kind that's been professionally assessed by patients?"
Lupin sensed Draco's bad mood and didn't respond.
He gave the dejected boy a kind look and decided not to bother with his sarcastic remarks. He gestured for Draco to sit down, waved his wand to pour him a Butterbeer, then continued fiddling with the hat, casually asking, "Has that necklace been given away yet?"
"certainly."
"Does Hermione like it?"
"Of course she likes it—" Draco suddenly realized, "How do you know it was her?"
"I still can't forget your Boggart," Lupin said meaningfully.
"That's an irrefutable reason," Draco said expressionlessly. "I'll say it again: I hate it when people pry into my privacy."
"Merlin's beard, that was a mandatory test! Dealing with one's own Boggart is a skill every student must master! I myself don't want to see those things that everyone fears," Lupin said helplessly. "How long are you going to hold a grudge about this?"
"A lifetime," Draco said mercilessly.
"A lifetime is too long to make promises lightly." Lu Ping wore a mysterious smile. "Speaking of which, you two have been having a falling out lately, haven't you?"
"And where did you get that information from..." Draco's arrogance subsided, and he muttered to himself.
"George and Fred told me," he said with a smile, raising his glass to Draco. "You have to understand me, I'm really bored being cooped up in the shop all day inventing things. I need to hear the Hogwarts news to pass the time."
"I don't like my love life being used as gossip," Draco said sternly, raising his glass as well.
He took a sip of butterbeer and immediately felt warm.
"This isn't the first time I've seen an arrogant, conceited pure-blood wizard and a proud, stubborn Muggle wizard fall in love and quarrel." Lupin chuckled, a strange glint in his eyes. "To be honest, your little squabbles are nothing to me."
"Really? You think this is just a minor squabble? I'm going crazy." Draco absentmindedly fiddled with the wine glass on the table. "Girls! No matter how much you worry about her, she never appreciates it."
"I smell something bitter," Lupin said with a smile. "Can you tell me what's going on?"
Draco glanced at him and suddenly remembered Harry's words.
Remus Lupin—one of the targets of Hermione's misplaced sympathy—is perhaps one of the few who understands what Hermione is thinking.
Now that he already knows his opinion of Hermione from Boggart, there's no point in hiding it anymore.
Let's give it a try.
"I told her that giants are dangerous, hoping to warn her; but not only did she disagree with my point of view, she also absurdly concluded that I looked down on Muggle wizards and on her. What kind of baseless accusation is this?" he said coldly.
"I guess you also expressed your dissatisfaction with werewolves," Lupin said casually.
Draco didn't answer. He thought, "He must be crazy!" He was in a room with a werewolf, talking to him about his emotional problems, which stemmed from his utter contempt for giants and werewolves.
A complete mess.
Lupin noticed Draco's slightly stiff expression and gave the boy a forgiving smile: "It's alright, I hate werewolves myself. I was bitten by Fenrir Greyback when I was a kid—nobody hates werewolves more than me."
"I regret this," Draco said, trying to hide his surprise.
It's Graybury's doing again!
"Hermione…in some ways, she's a lot like Lily. Intelligent, studious, and kind. She always has a knack for finding the good in others—good in people they themselves don't even realize," Lupin said with a smile.
"She really is. Very kind, always thinking the best of people," Draco said softly. "Do you know why I was willing to give you a job?"
Lupin raised his eyebrows. "I've never been able to figure this out."
"Because of Hermione."
"Oh, I see," Lupin said, a look of understanding on his face. "She knew I was here—"
"No, she doesn't know. I haven't had a chance to tell her yet."
"Then why were you willing to give me this job directly?"
"As I look at you, I suddenly remember what she said. I once asked her if she was afraid after that terrible night." A smile appeared on Draco's face. "She said, of course she was afraid. But she believed that if there was anyone more afraid than her that night, it must have been you—Professor Lupin."
Lupin showed a look of surprise, and a hint of vulnerability.
"She said you must be very afraid of hurting us. When you come to your senses, you'll be very sad if you see what you've done. So, although she's afraid, she won't blame you." Draco continued speaking to himself, staring at the fireplace in the workshop, no longer glancing at Lupin.
"She is very noble," Lupin said softly.
"I would never have such a noble thought. She was just a kind person to the point of being foolish, an idealist to the point of being naive. She awakened the good side of me—which usually lies dormant. She always tried to awaken me from my numbness, the me who was a little better than the Draco Malfoy of the past." Draco stared at a piece of brown wood in the fireplace, where warm flames danced.
Lupin cleared his throat and said in a hoarse voice, "Oh, about this feeling, I think I know it very well too..."
His choked voice puzzled Draco. He glanced at Lupin.
Staring into Lupin's moist eyes, he suddenly realized something: "You liked Lily, didn't you? Just like I liked Hermione."
Lupin didn't answer. He took a big gulp of his drink and stared at the fireplace with Draco.
Draco neither expected nor was interested in receiving any answer from him; she remained a constant thought in his mind.
They drank in silence until Draco gave a wry smile: "I've never met anyone like her before. She's completely out of place in the world I know. I'm scared. She's new, exciting, and unsafe to me. I've tried to stay far away from her, but somehow I've gotten closer and closer. I've clumsily tried to provoke her, humiliate her, scare her away, or bring out the bad side of her. Even just a little bit, as long as she and I have something in common…"
"To provoke her, to humiliate her…that's a bit of a jerk," Lupin smiled again. "A childish, arrogant little brat."
"Yes, I've always acted like a jerk. All the choices I made were wrong. Do you think I wanted this? Nobody told me what was right. By the time I realized it… I'd messed everything up. But then I had a chance, and I finally didn't want to run away anymore. I tried to start over. I tried so hard, so very hard, but I still don't understand her… I don't understand what she's angry with me for." Draco's cold mask cracked, and strands of distress seeped through.
He tapped his glass, cast a full-charge spell, and silently drank his second glass of butterbeer.
"I didn't quite understand most of what you just said," Lupin said, scratching his head in a strange tone. "But I do understand one thing. I understand what she's concerned about. She's probably insecure about her Muggle identity."
"Absolutely not," Draco said firmly. "I've never met a more confident girl, and I've rarely seen her so upset about something like this…"
"Listen to me, I've been one of your teachers, and I know Hermione is a confident little wizard—" Lupin looked at Draco's obedient nod and suddenly found it a little funny. "Although she didn't care about this matter at first, she still hears some negative feedback about bloodlines from time to time in her daily life."
"You mean someone said something to her?" Draco gave him a sharp look.
"It's not that simple. The hurt doesn't just come from direct words, but perhaps from indirect attitudes. You probably don't feel it because you're a pure-blood wizard, one of those people Merlin favors. For us—Muggle wizards, half-blood wizards, even werewolves—this feeling of being treated differently is subtle. We are constantly affected by the subtle emotions around us," Lupin said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Oh, I never thought of it that way. I thought Gryffindor would be more open-minded," Draco said. "At least they wouldn't say or do anything to Muggle-born wizards."
"Every house has enlightened and unenlightened people, pure-blood wizards and non-pure-blood wizards. To judge black and white, superior and inferior, solely by the house is naive and childish. It wasn't until many years later that I understood this." Lupin laughed sarcastically. "Dark wizards aren't just from Slytherin. Didn't Gryffindor produce Peter Pedyru?"
"Oh, that's unbelievable," Draco muttered. "I thought you'd be more biased."
"Leaving aside whether I am prejudiced or not, what we need to consider today is whether you yourself harbor prejudice, or even arrogance. I don't think that the words of those around you would anger a witch as resolute as Hermione. Rather, it is you, the self-righteous prejudice inherent in your pure-blood wizarding nature, the habitual arrogance that you inadvertently reveal, will it hurt the heart of a Muggle-born little witch?" Lupin scrutinized Draco's face.
"But I'm stating the truth—"
"Even if what you say is true, such as werewolves being dangerous or giants being ferocious, this attitude still makes people uncomfortable. Especially since she is a sensitive, intelligent, and empathetic little witch—she will care about this. Perhaps she will wonder if your avoidance attitude will one day be projected onto her."
"Oh—" he said dryly, "She's just being stubborn."
"She might not be so angry if it were a stranger; the more important the person is to her, the more intense her reaction will be."
"Listen to what you're saying! Is there any reason left in your body?" Draco's resolve softened, but his words remained sharp. "She should know that's not what I meant!"
"I don't believe you're the only one at Hogwarts who's wary of giants. Why is she only angry with you?" Lupin coaxed patiently—as if they were back in a Hogwarts classroom—the boy in front of him was his only student at the moment. "She craves your support; she values your understanding. Of course, you don't look down on her, but this can't be resolved by tacit agreement. You need to clearly tell her your thoughts."
"I told her long ago—"
"That's not enough. You need to reassure her again and again when she's doubting you, and emphasize your thoughts again and again, until she stops doubting," Lupin said gently.
Draco secretly took Lupin's words to heart, muttering under his breath, "The way you're talking, like a love guru. You haven't even—have you ever been in love?"
"I can't say I understand love very well. But for a time, Harry's mother, Lily, treated Harry's father, James, almost every day with anxiety and anger because of the arrogance he inadvertently displayed when he spoke…" Lupin smiled and said, "They were blinded by their own involvement, but we on the sidelines saw it very clearly. She treated him differently from others. She cared about him too much."
"Really? She's angry with me because she cares about me?" Draco finally smiled.
"You idiot, that's not the point!" Lupin looked at his foolish behavior with a half-smile, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes, and said something he had said years ago, "The point is, you have to apologize right away—for your hurtful arrogance—you have to show your stance, understand her, support her, and never make the same mistake again!"
"I will! I'll go right away!" Draco said, a little embarrassed and annoyed. "How could you call me an idiot? This idiot has to brew your medicine every month!"
He downed his butterbeer in one gulp, slammed the empty glass on the workbench, glared at Lupin who was looking on with amusement, and stormed down the stairs to find his Hermione Granger.
George, who happened to be walking upstairs, stared in surprise at Draco's retreating figure and asked in disbelief, "Remus, what's wrong? Did you two have a fight?"
"Quite the opposite. We get along perfectly—I've even discovered some very interesting things." Lupin rubbed his eyes and said to George with a grin, "The frozen snake of Slytherin, warmed by the lionheart of Gryffindor..."
[Gao Er's Diary (Part Two)]
Weather on January 1, 1995: Snow
The Christmas holidays are my favorite time of the year!
At this time of year, I can perform my best feat—"devouring a roast turkey in three bites"—at the dining table at home! My parents always have a look of joy that makes them want to cry (actually, they're both amused and exasperated). I guess they're very proud of me!
At this time of year, the dining table at home is usually piled high with roasted meat and boiled potatoes, but unfortunately I don't have much of an appetite today—because the holiday ends today—I was full after eating just one bowl!
My parents seemed relieved. Little did they know that I had secretly eaten a large plate of delicious mini sausages and a big bowl of peas with butter before dinner.
Complete 300 hits on a wandering ball at home.
Soon we'll be heading to King's Cross Station to catch the Express back to Hogwarts.
I'm not writing anymore. Before I leave, I need to figure out how to mix some braised meat and cranberry sauce with my rice!
Weather on January 2, 1995: Cloudy and unpredictable.
Yesterday evening, when Vincent and I were eating flaming Christmas pudding at the school table, we heard a Christmas horror story: we actually had to do homework during the holidays!
Nott, who happened to be passing by, saw that we looked worried and, for the first time ever, gave us a suggestion.
That night, we cried our eyes out in the common room in front of Draco.
He didn't speak for a long time.
I peeked at him through my fingers and saw that his face was pale, and he was glaring at us fiercely before ordering us to start writing immediately.
We wrote from 9 pm last night until 5 am this morning. Finally finished!
While Draco was still catching up on sleep and too tired to get out of bed, Vincent and I secretly ate 20 shiny, fragrant chicken drumsticks at the breakfast table to celebrate that we had handed in our assignment on time.
Draco probably found out about this.
After he finished his arithmetic and divination class, he suddenly coldly demanded that we run twenty-five laps around the Quidditch training ground.
Why are there five more laps than before?
But neither Vincent nor I dared to refute him—we were both a little guilty.
He ran twenty-five laps honestly and completed three hundred hits on the ball.
Weather on January 3, 1995: Light snow
I've discovered a big secret: Draco didn't notice at all that we ate so many chicken legs yesterday!
He was in a bad mood because Granger was ignoring him!
Today, he ran into Granger in the hallway. Granger held up the book in his hand, covered his face, and walked away!
Draco asked me, "She's avoiding me, isn't she?"
Of course I couldn't say anything, I still had a snotty jelly bug in my mouth!
I could only mumble, "Well...maybe she didn't see you..."
While Draco was in a daze, I quickly swallowed the snot jelly.
His face was terrifying.
Complete 25 laps of running and 300 hits on the ball on time.
Weather on January 5, 1995: Sunny
Today, Granger was carrying his books when he almost got knocked over by a clumsy first-year student as he walked around the corner.
However, she didn't fall—because Draco, who was passing by, reached out and caught her.
This coincidence is simply unbelievable!
Vincent said she deliberately fell into Draco's arms, but I don't think so.
Because the next second, her face turned red, she yelled for Draco to let her go, and then she ran away with the book in her arms.
Draco looked smug.
He stared intently at her retreating figure, his platinum blonde hair appearing noticeably shinier.
I guess he's in a good mood today.
In the afternoon, he even had us practice riding flying broomsticks, saying that we could run five fewer laps in the future!
Run five fewer laps!
Merlin, you must have heard my devout calls every night.
It's no wonder I've been offering you sweet honey and licorice wands every day!
May you soon ascend to paradise!
Complete 20 laps of running, 300 hits on a ball, and 30 minutes of flight training.
—Wait a minute, even though I ran fewer laps, why do I feel even more tired?
Weather on January 6, 1995: Gloomy
Actually, the weather was alright today, but Vincent and I felt a chilly atmosphere at the dinner table.
Looking back, Draco was glaring fiercely in the direction of the Gryffindor dining table.
"Too close," he muttered, tearing his ham sandwich, plate and all, apart with his fork.
I asked Vincent why Draco was taking his anger out on something as lovely as a ham sandwich—was the ham sandwich at the Gryffindor table more delicious?
Vincent told me it was because a senior Gryffindor boy was talking to Granger and showing him his eight teeth.
While Vincent was talking, I grabbed an extra sandwich from the bread basket.
Snatched food always tastes better!
Complete 20 laps of running, 300 hits on a ball, and 30 minutes of flight training.
Weather on January 7, 1995: Sunny
Today is Saturday.
Vincent and I finished running twenty laps, hitting the ball three hundred times, and completing thirty minutes of flight training early in the morning.
Strangely enough, from Monday to Friday, I always feel sleepy and dozing off during morning classes.
I get all energized when I don't have classes on Saturdays and Sundays!
Seriously, I woke up very early this morning and I'm not sleepy at all!
When we returned to Hogwarts Castle in high spirits, Vincent and I heard Draco talking to the Weasley twins in the corridor.
"…Big Foam looks pretty good. I think you should find a few people to test the effect…like…" Draco's voice was very low, and I didn't hear it clearly.
"…Oh, we've been thinking about doing this since last year…" the twins said to Draco with a grin.
Weather on January 8, 1995: Sunny
While eating our tenth baked flatbread at the breakfast table today, Vincent and I heard that a boy in Gryffindor had boils all over his body and had been rushed to the school hospital.
Parkinson and Zabini, having nothing better to do than visit the school hospital, returned and laughed hysterically for half an hour in the common room.
"Kenneth Toller is so ugly even his parents wouldn't recognize him!" Parkinson shouted. "I heard him crying and taking off his pajamas in the school hospital! I bet what you see next is quite something!"
Upon hearing this, Vincent covered his clothes in horror.
Oh, by the way, Kenneth Toller is the Gryffindor boy who spoke to Granger and smiled at him earlier.
I don't know why I brought this up.
Granger seemed completely unaware of this, still glaring at Draco with a defiant air, like a newborn calf unafraid of tigers.
She probably didn't do this, right?
Complete 20 laps of running, 300 hits on a ball, and 30 minutes of flight training.
Weather on January 9, 1995: Cloudy
Complete 20 laps of running, 300 hits on a ball, and 30 minutes of flight training.
By the way, Gryffindor's Cormac McClargan was also admitted to the school hospital this evening because of boils all over his body.
I asked Vincent who that was, and Vincent said it was the boy who sat across from Granger this morning and made faces at him.
Weather on January 10, 1995: Strange
Patricia Stinson of Gryffindor was the third person to go to the school hospital because of a boil.
This happened so suddenly!
She was perfectly fine at noon today when she loudly proclaimed in the hallway, "Granger is probably a master at making aphrodisiacs!"
Parkinson didn't dare go to the school hospital to join the commotion.
She earnestly told us that there might be fleas in the Gryffindor common room, and that we should stay away from those Gryffindors.
Fleas are quite scary.
Complete 20 laps of running, hit the ball 300 times, and complete 30 minutes of flight training.
Wait! I just brushed past Patricia Stinson at noon today! Could I have caught fleas from her?
I went back to my dorm and took a huge shower.
Weather on January 11, 1995: Cloudy
Thank goodness I didn't get any boils!
It was worth it for me to offer Merlin even more sizzling honey and licorice wands all night!
May Merlin bless you!
Complete 20 laps of running, hit the ball 300 times, and complete 30 minutes of flight training.
Weather on January 12, 1995: Quite bad.
Draco confiscated all the sweet honey and licorice wands I offered to Merlin this morning!
He wouldn't even listen to my explanation of what they were for!
I looked at the candies being poured out with a "whoosh" and felt like crying.
They were so beautiful, flowing away like a waterfall.
well!
Complete 20 laps of running, 300 hits on a ball, and 30 minutes of flight training.
Weather on January 13, 1995: Cloudy
The flea problem is getting more and more serious.
They have already left Gryffindor.
Eddie Cammitchell of Ravenclaw—the guy who went to the Gryffindor table yesterday to introduce Granger to "Buffet"—was the first to suffer.
Hufflepuff's Zacharys Smith—who this morning loudly praised Krum for "how wise it was not to choose a Muggle as a dance partner"—followed closely behind.
The fleas are outrageously rampant!
How did they get from the Gryffindor common room on the eighth floor to the Hufflepuff common room on the ground floor?
The Slytherin common room is probably the last sanctuary of Hogwarts.
Draco seems completely unafraid of being infected with fleas by Gryffindor.
He stubbornly sat next to Granger in the History of Magic class, staring at her intently with his side profile for the entire lesson, even though she didn't say a word to him or give him a single glance.
Complete 20 laps of running, hit the ball 300 times, and complete 30 minutes of flight training.
Weather on January 14, 1995: Cloudy
Slytherin has fallen too!
It wasn't Draco, but Malcolm Bardock, a first-year student.
That Bardock, all he does is run around recklessly all day, now he's really in big trouble, isn't he?
Come to think of it, he seems to be the same student who almost hit Granger at the corner last time.
What should have been a joyous Saturday turned into a day of fear and unease in the Slytherin common room.
Everyone kept their distance from each other, afraid of catching fleas!
I was a little scared, so I took a shower like crazy.
Complete 20 laps of running, hit the ball 300 times, and complete 30 minutes of flight training.
I took another crazy shower.
He got up in the middle of the night and, without Draco's knowledge, started offering Merlin tsizzling honey candy and the licorice wand again!
Weather on January 15, 1995: I don't remember.
Complete 20 laps of running, hit the ball 300 times, and complete 30 minutes of flight training.
When Parkinson passed by the training field today, he joked that Vincent's hairstyle looked like a pot lid.
Vincent was so angry that his face turned red.
He couldn't stop in time and accidentally crashed into the stands, breaking his arm.
Draco appeared very agitated when he came to check on Vincent's injury.
He scolded Parkinson so badly that Parkinson cried.
Zabini came to confront Draco, wanting him to apologize to his girlfriend.
Draco said he would apologize if Zabini won his wizard chess game.
Zabini lost, of course.
No one in the entire academy has ever been able to beat Draco!
While they were busy playing chess and didn't pay attention to me, I took out a toffee that I had hidden in my pants pocket for who knows how long and quickly popped it into my mouth!
Weather on January 16, 1995: Cloudy turning sunny
Today I went with Draco to the school hospital to see how Crabbe's arm was recovering, and I found Granger there too!
She was standing indistinctly behind a curtain, seemingly leaning closer to someone.
"Be confident… I think you're very beautiful… as long as you get rid of those things—" she said with a smile.
"Hermione, who are you talking to?" Draco stormed over and yanked open the curtains.
Behind the curtain was a girl with acne on her face.
"What are you doing?" the girl said in terror, covering her face.
I know her.
She is Eloise Midgen, who lost her nose while trying to treat acne at the start of the school year.
This was mentioned by Daphne Greengrass in the common room.
Granger glared at Draco, arms crossed. "Close the curtain," she said coldly.
Draco glanced at her, said nothing, and abruptly pulled the curtain shut again.
When he turned around, I saw that he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.
As he walked briskly out of the school hospital, I quickly put a bag of nut brittle under Vincent's pillow and told him, "This is my last bag. Eat it and get better soon."
I reluctantly said goodbye to my last bag of nut brittle.
I had been hiding it in a pair of smelly socks, which is why Draco didn't find it, hehe!
He completed 20 laps of running alone, hit a ball 300 times alone, and completed 30 minutes of flight training alone.
I'm starving.
Weather on January 17, 1995: Cloudy turning to light snow.
Draco is in a bad mood again today.
During herbalism class, Granger still didn't give him the slightest bit of a friendly look.
During dinner, he stared blankly at the entrance of the auditorium, unaware that his cup was being filled by the teapot in his hand.
"She laughed too much," he said.
I peeked over and saw that Krum and a few Durmstrang students had just passed Granger, who seemed to be smiling.
For some reason, I have a vague but bold guess: Krum might be the next one to get fleas.
He completed 20 laps of running alone, hit a ball 300 times alone, and completed 30 minutes of flight training alone.
Weather on January 18, 1995: Snow
Krum didn't have fleas; I was wrong.
This matter probably has nothing to do with Granger or Draco.
However, I no longer care about this!
Good news today: Vincent has fully recovered!
I no longer have to train alone, enduring the bitter cold!
Vincent was in good spirits. I quickly pulled him downstairs to see what was going on—someone had sailed Durmstrang's boat into the middle of Black Lake and frozen it over.
The Durmstrang students spent half an hour walking on the ice, slipping and sliding the whole way, before finally reaching the shore. The Beauxbatons girls on the shore were all laughing heartily.
Some of the girls at Hogwarts laughed, but most of them expressed their sympathy for Krum.
Draco seemed to be in a good mood today—I guess it's because Vincent has recovered—and he started teaching us how to play "counter-runaway ball".
We studied it twenty times, but we still couldn't quite grasp it.
Complete 20 laps of running, 300 hits on a ball, and 30 minutes of flight training.
Weather on January 19, 1995: Snow
Complete 20 laps of running, hit the ball 300 times, complete 30 minutes of flight training, and practice "counter-attack ball movement" for 30 minutes.
It was so cold in astronomy class tonight! Vincent and I almost froze to death.
Draco doesn't seem to be afraid of the cold.
He even took off his own robe and casually draped it over Granger's shoulders.
Granger didn't speak. She kept a straight face, took off his robe, and stuffed it back into his hands.
Draco draped it back over her shoulders.
We turned our heads left and right to watch them play this "two-person musical chairs" game for the entire class period.
Wait, what was this lesson about again?
Wait, why are these two still able to hand in the classwork assigned by Professor Sinister when get out of class is over?
Why were only Vincent and I punished with detention?
Weather on January 20, 1995: Extreme blizzard
Draco gave us a day off today.
He said the weather was too bad today, the ground was too slippery, and the wind was too strong, so he couldn't train.
Vincent and I were overjoyed.
But in the middle of the night, I couldn't sleep, so I went to the auditorium to secretly practice running laps—and ran into the sneaky Vincent.
We huffed and puffed as we ran twenty laps around the auditorium before going back to sleep.
A toffee before bed is better than being a god.
Weather on January 21, 1995: Cloudy and unpredictable.
Today is Hogsmeade Village Open Day!
I saw a joke product called "Big Bubble" at the Weasleys' Magic Tricks shop that could make people grow boils all over their bodies.
I didn't have a chance to look closely; there were so many students crowding around to buy things that Vincent and I were almost squeezed out of shape.
So Vincent and I went to Honeydukes candy store and quickly forgot about those joke items.
What a wonderful day!
We spent the whole day battling it out in the candy store, stuffing all our pockets full.
Even better, Draco, who was with us, didn't even notice that we had bought candy.
On the way back to Hogwarts Castle, he had a long face the whole time, just like Vincent was struggling with "what to eat tonight".
Vincent said that Draco and Granger had probably had another fight.
I nodded vigorously at him while sneaking a taste of a freshly baked pink coconut ice cream. It was delicious!
Complete 20 laps of running, hit the ball 300 times, complete 30 minutes of flight training, and practice "counter-attack ball movement" for 30 minutes.
"Counter-attack ball movement" is really hard to learn