Hermione didn't understand why Professor Branwen looked so shocked when she saw the manuscript of Professor Lupin's unpublished new book. . . Was it because the new book by Professor Lupin wasn't as brilliant as expected, disappointing Professor Branwen? When Hermione walked into the refreshment room through Mrs. Fat's painting, the confusion on her face hadn't completely disappeared.
Now, it was very late, and the vast rest room was quiet with almost no one around. Only Harry and Ron were curled up on the soft sofa near the fireplace, dozing off. Needless to say, they must have been waiting for her.
Life would not be lonely if...
On her way to Harry and Ron, Hermione pursed her lips slightly, a thought flickering in her mind.
"Why haven't you two gone to your dormitory to sleep yet?"
Although she knew they were waiting for her, when she walked in, Hermione raised her delicate eyebrows and looked arrogantly at them.
"Why else would that be? Of course, it's because they're worried that you'll be so absorbed in that enjoyable work that you'll forget about dinner!"
Harry and Ron, who were snoring, were awakened by the sound. They rubbed their bleary eyes and Ron grumbled as he sat up.
Hermione sat opposite them, staring at the table filled with food. A tiny smile appeared on her lips, barely noticeable. Although she wasn't hungry, she felt warm inside her heart.
At this moment, Hermione noticed that a few slices of toasted bread were pressed down by a black notebook. From its worn-out cover, it seemed that this notebook was quite old.
And Ron, who noticed Hermione's gaze, meaninglessly shrugged his shoulders and gave Harry a look, indicating for him to explain.
"--On our way back to the dormitory in the afternoon, we passed by the second floor and found Mrs. Weasley in a rage in that bathroom. Curiosity got the better of us, so we went inside and then found out... The owner of this notebook was Tom Riddle!"
Harry emphasized particularly that he thought Hermione could understand what he wanted to express, "Ron thinks this stuff may be dangerous and suggests that I throw it away."
"Throw it away?"
Hermione forgot her fatigue and excitement. She picked up the notebook from inside to outside and examined it carefully, "What nonsense are you talking about, Ron? There might be clues in it!"
"He certainly hides the clues very cleverly," Ron said, "Maybe it's shy about meeting people. I really can't figure out what you can do with it, Harry."
"I hope to know why someone wants to throw it away," Harry pondered, "In addition, I also want to know how Tom Riddle obtained the special contribution award from Hogwarts."
"Then there are plenty of possibilities, Harry," Ron said in a disinterested tone, "Perhaps he got thirty O.W.L.s, or saved a teacher from the giant squid's giant claws, or maybe he murdered Peignoir - that would be everyone's wish..."
They all knew that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened fifty years ago, a student had died, and the killer was expelled. It was no stretch of imagination to understand that there must be some connection between that and Tom Riddle receiving the special contribution award at that time.
Hermione went back and forth for the whole day, trying to scribble something on the blank pages of the notebook, but she couldn't come up with even a single word. In the end, she had no choice but to regretfully give up.
"Perhaps, we should give this notebook to Professor Branwen or Headmaster Dumbledore. Wizards like them would definitely unearth the secrets of this notebook."
Hermione suggested this with a furrowed brow.
However, this reasonable suggestion was strongly opposed by Harry.
"Now that there are fewer students talking about this in the school, Hermione, I don't want to make it a big issue... If, I mean if, that heir continues to make moves, then I will let you hand this over to Professor Branwen!"
In fact, that was just an excuse, and Harry couldn't even explain to himself why he didn't just throw away Tom Riddle's diary. The actual situation was that for the next few days, despite knowing that the diary was empty, he would still take it out thoughtfully when there were no people around, hoping to find something inside.
The new week had begun, and the second half of February had officially entered. Recently, the hot topic in the school was Professor Branwen, who suddenly took over as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher without any prior notice. No matter where you went, you could hear young wizards discussing his stunning skills in first and second-year classes and his classification of magical powers among schools in fifth, sixth and seventh-year classes. Instead, little attention was paid to Armostat's methods for dealing with dark wizards and dangerous creatures in class.
In every house, young wizards would firmly declare that their relative possessed the power of 'Court Wizard,' as if the magical world had suddenly reverted to ancient times. It was as if not having at least two court wizards in the family was too embarrassing to even greet people outside.
As for the 'Saint' level of wizards, none of those young wizards dared to claim they were related to them.
"Professor Dumbledore is a Saint, there is no doubt about it!"
Macauley of Hufflepuff declared firmly to Hanna Abbot of the same house, as if he had already confirmed it with Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Branwen.
"As for Professor Branwen, I guess he is..."
Macauley spoke confidently, "Consider this, Hanna, since Professor Branwen arrived at Hogwarts as an investigator, the Heir of Slytherin has never dared to show his face again. I guess he's not confident enough to deal with two 'Saints' at the same time!"
Macauley's words had quite a following among the young wizards, so when the third and fourth years, who had their classes rescheduled to Tuesday afternoon due to the change, walked into Professor Branwen's class, Fred and George Weasley asked with a smile,
"Professor Branwen, are you a Saint?"
Staring at the two Weasleys on the high stage with a half-smile, Armostat didn't expect to encounter such a 'revenge' opportunity so quickly!
"So, Mr. Weasleys, would you like to demonstrate to everyone how to defeat a 'Saint'?"
"Oh oh oh!"
The roar suddenly erupted in the hall, like a storm surge, especially those who loved to watch the show in the Hufflepuff's array, four year old Cedric Diggory directly jumped onto the table and shouted at the twins.
"Let everyone see your skills, Weasleys!"
"Come up and show your stuff, Fred, George. Don't let Gryffindor be embarrassed!"
There were also many people from Gryffindor who cheered up the twin brothers, who were laughing and slapping them on the shoulders with glee.
"This is definitely revenge, Fred!"
While they tremblingly climbed up the stage together, George muttered under his breath,
"Professor Branwen definitely recognized us last time in Hogsmeade!"
The duel ended much sooner than everyone had expected.
As soon as they stepped onto the stage, before Professor Branwen could even announce the start, the twin brothers exchanged a quick glance and then immediately split up, running in opposite directions to encircle Armostat.
"Ready, Fred?" George shouted.
"Ready to strike, brother!" Fred replied with a resolute look.
Smiling, Armostat watched as the two little troublemakers pulled out two large manure bags from their robes and were about to attack when they suddenly raised their wands and cast a spell!
Bang bang bang!
The sight of hundreds of manure bombs exploding simultaneously, accompanied by the pungent smell, was particularly moving. Covered in fecal juice, Fred and George 'howled' and collapsed to the ground, looking as if they had been struck by a piercing curse!
"Perish together, Professor!"
But they didn't expect that moments later, the twin brothers would simultaneously get up from the ground, staring fiercely at Professor Branwen and charging at him with unyielding courage!
If he were to be frightened by such a little trick, then all those years in the underworld for Armostat would have been in vain.
He still had a smiling expression, taking his time to shake his wrist. A red orb, as big as a Quidditch ball and carrying red electricity and tail fire, rose from the tip of his wand and flew above his head.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
Before Fred and George could even get close to ten feet from the red orb on Professor Branwen's head, it suddenly shone brilliantly, and dozens of red beams shot out in all directions. Each of the Weasley brothers, who were rapidly approaching, took at least two or three of the beams with their chest, then fell to the ground unconscious!
"Concursus Curse -- fighting version..."
Armostat looked down at the wide-eyed young wizards below and said with a smiling face,
"Excuse me, which of the students can help carry them to the infirmary?"
PS: Please ask for various tickets, investment, thank you!
