A day at Hogwarts.

Chapter 649 It's reasonable to do this.

In the days from late September to early October, Voldemort would suddenly feel waves of panic and irritability, as if he was worried that something important was going to happen.

"What if I fail?!" Harry paced anxiously down the hallway. "The Vitality Potion requires stewed mandrake root! I think I just wrote 'mandrake' on the label. Snape will definitely deduct all my points!"

Malfoy happened to be passing by and would normally have laughed at Harry, but at this moment he suddenly froze on the spot, realizing that he couldn't even be sure whether he had filled in the blank with a whole mandrake or a stewed root.

“Alright, buddy,” Ron patted Harry hard on the back, “what’s done is done, don’t think about it anymore, just enjoy dinner tonight.”

Nave also said, "Yeah, yeah, I wonder what we'll eat tonight."

As soon as Harry heard about dinner, he remembered something and called out to Charles, who was walking ahead of Hermione, "Charles, I have something to ask you."

Charles turned around and asked, "I heard Dobby and Kreacher got into a fight at Dancing Grass?"

Hermione looked at Charles as soon as she heard this.

Charles shrugged and said, "It happened a few days ago, Blake did it."

"It seems he was a little dissatisfied with the dinner Kreacher made and wanted to learn from Dobby and the others."

"Kreacher never liked Dobby and his gang, and then somehow they got into a fight in the alley behind the Dancing Grass restaurant."

Hermione muttered after hearing this, "Black has always been mean to Kreacher..."

After this interruption, Harry stopped thinking about the monthly exam and said to Hermione, "He's given Kreacher a holiday and some pocket money, but Kreacher is very angry."

People around immediately pretended not to understand English to avoid being dragged into the topic of house-elves.

He ran into Cedric halfway there and said to Ron, "Weasley, are you free tonight? I have something to talk to you about."

Finally, he grinned and said, "It's a good thing."

Ron replied, "No problem, see you at the usual place!"

Hermione's face immediately darkened.

During dinner, she said to Ron, "Don't do things like that anymore, you'll be found out sooner or later."

Ron seemed to have ears that had turned into chicken legs, unable to hear anything, and focused intently on cutting the food on his plate, as if that piece of rib was the most difficult magical puzzle in the world.

He lowered his head, avoiding Hermione's scorching gaze, and mumbled indistinctly, "Hmm, the grilled ribs are cooked perfectly, but I haven't tried the marinade yet."

"Charles, is this the recipe you gave to the kitchen?"

Ron had vaguely heard that Charles was working with the kitchen.

Charles mumbled between bites, "It's nothing, just a little test."

Ron seemed determined not to speak to Hermione and instead asked Charles for cooking advice.

After dinner, Ron avoided the crowds and hurried along his familiar route to the prefect's office.

He pushed open the door and entered. The leaping flames in the fireplace immediately dispelled the chill that had come from the corridor, and the crackling sound of burning firewood was the only sound in the room.

Cedric was already waiting there, his back to the door. His tall figure cast a long, swaying shadow on the floor in the flickering firelight, and his usually gentle profile now appeared somewhat deep and unfathomable.

“The situation is even more optimistic than we expected.” He turned around after hearing the door open, and without exchanging pleasantries, went straight to the point: “The news spread faster than anticipated.”

“Now, those who come to us are no longer just people who want to resolve disputes privately. More and more students have heard of the ‘octagon’ and their demand for watching and seeking excitement is increasing.”

His voice was steady, but his eyes gleamed with excitement.

Ron's eyes lit up instantly, like a fireplace that had been lit.

He strode to the small coffee table in the center of the room and asked eagerly, "Does that mean we can expand now?" "Exactly." Cedric gestured for him and Hermione to sit down, then drew his wand and waved it gently. A blank parchment and a quill appeared silently on the polished coffee table.

He waved his wand again, and the pen tip drew neatly on the paper as he said, "In order to be more organized and to reduce risks, we have decided after preliminary discussion to form groups, namely men's and women's groups."

"There are more men in the group, so the competition frequency can be higher, such as every Wednesday night."

"Because there are fewer women, the women's group will be held every two weeks on Sunday evenings."

"This way, we can distract ourselves and avoid arousing the professors' suspicion too frequently."

A clear framework diagram quickly appeared on the parchment, marked with time, grouping, and a simple summary of rules.

Ron rubbed his hands excitedly, looking at the blueprints and saying, "Great! Let's do it!"

"I will take care of the specific tasks, such as registration, venue arrangement, and notifying contestants and audiences."

"You just need to..."

He didn't finish speaking, but looked at Cedric, the meaning of which was self-evident—the more prestigious and well-connected male student council president needed to use his influence to coordinate and maintain order.

"I object!" Hermione shouted.

Her chest heaved slightly from excitement and anger, her face was covered in frost, and her eyes, which always shone with wisdom, were now filled with only anger and disappointment.

This was the first time Hermione had publicly spoken out against wizarding duels in the octagon.

Cedric was not surprised by Hermione's objection, as Ron had mentioned it several times before.

He sat up straight, his expression still calm.

“Granger,” his voice remained calm, with the patience of someone trying to reason with someone, “I understand your concerns.”

"However, please face the reality: the students' private, unregulated conflicts and fights have never stopped."

“In the corners of corridors and abandoned classrooms, people are injured almost every week, and sometimes even innocent people are affected.”

"Rather than letting this dangerous chaos fester in the shadows, it is better to bring it under control."

“What we provide is a relatively safe platform with clear rules, magical contracts, and supervision from prefects. Isn’t that better than completely out-of-control private brawls?”

"Sophistry!" Hermione's voice trembled with agitation and anger. "You are legitimizing violence!"

"They are using a set of seemingly reasonable rules to package an inherently wrong behavior. School rules clearly prohibit students from fighting privately, and this is an indisputable bottom line!"

"If it's discovered that the prefectural head led the way in violating the rules, have you thought about the consequences? Points deduction? Solitary confinement? Or even more severe punishment?"

“The worst consequences of violating school rules are nothing more than curfew violations and private fights,” Cedric replied calmly. “But compared to conflicts that occur without supervision or protection, our approach minimizes the harm.”

“We have rules and restrictions, contracts to ensure participants adhere to the principles of confidentiality and moderation, and we supervise on-site to ensure no irreparable situation arises.”

"When faced with two evils, I believe we have chosen the lesser one and are trying to guide it in a safer direction."

Ron, who had been staring at his shoes with his head down ever since Hermione entered, suddenly looked up. When he looked at Hermione, the hesitation and evasion in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a light Hermione had never seen before, a light that was a mixture of determination and stubbornness.

“Hermione,” Ron’s voice was soft, yet unusually firm, each word striking Hermione’s heart clearly, “we’ve made up our minds. We’re not creating trouble; we’re trying to minimize it.”

Hermione looked at Cedric, then at the unwavering resolve in Ron's eyes, and finally understood that words had lost their power at this moment.

“Besides,” Ron concluded, “why do you think our behavior violated school rules?”

(End of this chapter)