Harry returns from Hogwarts Legacy

Chapter 361 Extra: Sweetheart's Flower - Miss Malfoy's Admonition

The workload in the third year is not too heavy. At least in their spare time, the students at Hogwarts have plenty of free time to engage in extracurricular activities.

The four colleges in the same year all took the Magical Creatures Conservation course together, and Professor Hao Ying, who claimed to be from "Ming Kingdom," was everyone's favorite professor.

There's no other reason than that Professor Haoying is very kind and approachable, and most importantly, she also cooks delicious meals for the students.

It's easy to imagine just how adored Professor Haoying would be by her students in the British Empire, a place where even eating was like torture.

At that time, the British Empire was a true empire on which the sun never sets, not the little Britain of 1995 that almost lost Northern Ireland and whose monarchy was largely powerless.

Even the most bloodline-obsessed wizards in the magical world, who look down on Muggles, can't help but puff out their chests when they mention the British Empire.

But this has nothing to do with Professor Hao Ying of the Ming Dynasty. Firstly, wizards in the magical world are not very interested in the changes of foreign Muggle forces. Secondly, the wizards of the 404 land did not follow suit and shave their heads and change their clothes. Even when invaded by barbarians, they still retained the oldest traditions, and the magical forces of that land were still very powerful.

Harry also really likes Professor Whitebeard. Apart from Professor Garrick, the big sister who often took care of him in Herbology, and Vice Principal Weasley who looked after him, Professor Whitebeard is his favorite professor.

After the Magical Creatures Protection class, Harry was asked to stay behind by Professor Whitebeard, along with Pappy from Hufflepuff and some other classmates.

Pappy is a very pretty little girl, lively, innocent, kind-hearted, and a bit of a social butterfly—that's Harry's impression of her.

"Harry!"

Papiyas skipped over to Harry—she knew the Gryffindor boy well, or at least that's what she thought.

“Oh, Pappy.” Harry greeted Pappy in a very natural and friendly manner.

After attending Hogwarts for more than two years, Harry was no longer the timid orphan living with the Dursleys. With the care of his friends, he was growing up healthily and robustly.

Of course, this was also inseparable from the Malfoy family's upbringing.

Despite having no connection to the Malfoy family and being nominally Miss Malfoy's "servant," Harry felt much happier at the Malfoys' house than at the Dursleys'.

While he was the Dursleys' "nephew," he was actually a "servant," doing all sorts of chores like washing dishes and weeding. In the Malfoy household, although he was nominally a "servant," Harry's treatment was no worse than that of Cassandra's brother Ignisius Malfoy when he was in school; the only difference was the title of "Young Master Potter."

A hundred years ago, Hogwarts was not like it was when Dumbledore was headmaster. The wizarding world in that era was fraught with danger. You could run into nine dark wizards with bloodstained wands while you were out buying a pack of cigarettes. Naturally, Hogwarts' education became much more rigorous.

Harry is a person who changes with his environment. If he were at Hogwarts in 1991, he would most likely be influenced by those around him, becoming obsessed with Quidditch, Wizard's Chess, or Gobblestone—it's hard to say when he would take learning spells seriously.

But at Hogwarts, under the pressure of his surroundings, he became more serious about his studies.

In addition, his talent for spellcasting was top-notch, and he quickly stood out among his peers. Perhaps this was one of the reasons why Mr. Septimus recognized him, although it was not a major factor.

"It seems Professor Haoying will be cooking lots of delicious dishes again today," Papby said, standing on tiptoe with her hands behind her back.

Harry sniffed; he could smell the fragrance wafting from Professor Whitebeard's cottage.

"Are all the professors of magical creatures at Hogwarts so exceptionally talented in cooking?"

Of course, he quickly retracted that statement when he later met Hagrid.

Rock crust biscuits are delicious, but they are giant's biscuits and are not suitable for young wizards.

“I think so,” Papbi said with a smile. “My sister’s father-in-law—that is, Mr. Scamander—is very good at cooking Italian food.”

Oh yes, Italian food, mamomi!

As long as it's not British food, it's fine.

Harry was about to say something when a small whirlpool suddenly swept past him.

It is Taran, the house-elf of the Malfoy family.

“Young Master Potter,” the house-elf Taran bowed respectfully to Harry, “Miss Malfoy asked Taran to inform the esteemed Young Master Potter that she will be waiting for you in the Great Hall.”

Harry didn't know whose idea it was, but the house-elves in the house all called him "Master," and even many other families that the Malfoys had dealings with called him "Master Potter," instead of the aloof "Potter."

Harry gave a slight smirk.

“I understand, Taran.” He was somewhat reluctant to part with Professor Haoying’s delicious food. “Miss Malfoy should know that Professor Haoying asked me to stay behind for some business.”

As the most powerful family of the century, the Malfoys' children naturally had the privilege of bringing house-elves to Hogwarts.

rule?

The word "Malfoy" is a rule in the wizarding world.

Having received Harry's reply, Taran said nothing, bowed respectfully again, and disappeared from the spot.

“A house-elf…” Papi said with a hint of envy. “My mom also wants to have a house-elf, but she’s never had a way to get one… I think the Malfoys are really amazing; they can actually let their kids bring a house-elf to school…”

Harry smiled but didn't reply.

Regardless of the purpose, it is never something a proper servant should do to gossip about the Lord's house to others.

He's pretty damn clear about his own position.

"So, are you planning to leave?" Papbi asked.

“Oh, after all, Professor Malfoy herself told me to stay.” Harry shrugged, somewhat regretfully. “Miss Malfoy’s orders are important, but I can’t disobey the professor.”

“Let’s go, we can talk as we walk,” he said to Papiyas.

The two walked toward Professor Haoying's cottage, Pappy skipping along, occasionally reaching out to pick wildflowers by the roadside.

“By the way, Harry,” Pappy picked a cluster of anemones, waved away the bumblebees that were resting and sleeping on them, and asked Harry, “Do you like the Niffler? You know, the little creature we learn about in class. I think they’re quite cute.”

“I quite like them,” Harry said. “These little guys can find treasure, and I really need their abilities.”

There was no other way. Old Potter's family was terrified of poverty. They came here all alone, and most people wouldn't understand the kind of life they had to live on, relying on others for food and shelter.

"Heh, looks like you're still a little miser." Papiyas waved the flowers in his hand, giving half to Harry. "Here, take these—these flowers are for you..."

Harry accepted the cluster of anemones that Pappy had given him, and a breeze carried their faint fragrance.

At this moment, they arrived at the door of Professor Haoying's cottage.

“Let’s go in,” Pappy said to Harry. “Everyone must be getting impatient.”

Sure enough, as soon as Harry entered the room, he heard Gareth complaining that Harry was late, and his stomach had been protesting for a while.

If Harry had arrived even a little later, he would have insisted on not waiting for him.

“You really are a friend over friends when it comes to good food.” Harry plopped down next to Gareth and placed the cluster of anemones on the table in front of them. “Oh, anemones?” Gareth glanced at the still-fresh flowers. “They smell pretty good…freshly picked? I don’t remember you having that kind of hobby.”

“Guess.” Harry made a face at Gareth.

“I’m just a kid, I don’t know how to guess!” Gareth rolled his eyes. “If you don’t want to say, fine, I don’t care anyway—Professor, what are you waiting for? Hurry up and bring it up!”

Harry found this sentence awkward no matter how he listened to it, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why.

After enjoying a delicious meal from a foreign land at Professor Whitebird's cottage, Harry, with a full belly, returned to the Great Hall with Gareth.

At this time, the Great Hall of Hogwarts had just started serving food, and the students readily accepted whatever was offered, gulping down the food in front of them.

“I think,” Gareth said, rubbing his stomach and smacking his lips as he sucked on a piece of meat stuck between his teeth, “that eating a meal in Professor Haoying’s cottage is much better than eating this swill in the auditorium.”

“You can’t say that. How can you call it swill?” Harry said without hesitation. “Actually, British food has many advantages.”

"For example?" Gareth asked, tilting his head.

"Uh..." Harry thought for a long time but couldn't answer.

"Alright, alright," Gareth chuckled, patting Harry on the shoulder. "Stop thinking about the merits of English food. You should go back to the long table in Slytherin. Look—Miss Malfoy's face is covered in ice thicker than an Arctic glacier!"

Harry glanced at the Slytherin bench and immediately sensed that something was wrong.

not good!

This was his first thought.

He strode over to Cassandra and stood behind her.

“Miss Malfoy,” Harry called out somewhat nervously.

Cassandra wasn't eating; instead, she was flipping through a book of spells.

Upon hearing Harry's words, she simply gave a soft "hmm" and slightly raised her delicate chin to her side.

Harry, who knew Cassandra well, knew that Cassandra was "offering a seat".

He didn't refuse, and despite the envious glances from the other male classmates, he sat down next to Miss Malfoy.

Unlike in the 20th century, it's not that everyone goes to Gryffindor to have dinner with Harry. Instead, Harry needs to stand behind Miss Malfoy or sit next to her during the meal.

That is to say, go to the long bench in Slytherin.

At first, the Slytherins complained about it behind people's backs, but after seeing it so often, they became too lazy to discuss it in private.

What a big deal.

It would be nine-tenths inappropriate to offend Miss Malfoy over such a trivial matter.

Cassandra remained silent, quietly browsing through the book in her hands, occasionally jotting down her thoughts and notes somewhere in the pages.

Half an hour later, she glanced at the clock and finally spoke slowly.

"It seems you had a good chat with your good friend?"

“Ah.” Harry nodded. “Yes, I was just discussing the merits of British cuisine with Gareth.”

Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud when he said this.

"And then?" Cassandra didn't look up, but raised an eyebrow and naturally handed the book to Harry.

Harry reached out and took the book; this was his task for the evening—to read it carefully and to understand what Cassandra had written down.

"The result was that I thought about it for a long time but couldn't find it," he said.

“Oh, just like you,” Cassandra said indifferently.

what?
Harry scratched his head, wondering what was going on.
“You know I’m not talking about Weasley,” Cassandra said again.

Harry would definitely not agree now. Besides Gareth, do I have any other good friends at Hogwarts?
At this time, he wasn't very familiar with Sebastian and Orminis.

"Huh?" He could only express his confusion with one sound.

“Sweetine of Hufflepuff,” Cassandra tilted her beautiful head, a hint of mockery in her voice, “isn’t that your new best friend?”

“She and I are just ordinary classmates, Miss Malfoy,” Harry quickly explained—he didn’t know why he had to explain it this way, but his killer instinct told him he had to.

If we don't say it this way, someone could easily die.

"Oh……"

Cassandra nodded as if she understood, then glanced at his pocket.

Anemones, Flora's jealousy...

The mockery in her eyes intensified.

"These flowers are so beautiful. Remember to put them in a bottle and add some water when you get back to your dorm," she said. "Don't let them die too quickly."

Harry was straightforward and didn't think much of it.

"I understand, Miss Malfoy."

“Hmm.” Cassandra nodded. “Remember to read today’s book carefully. If you still can’t beat me this summer, then… I’ll have to consider whether you’re worthy of the Malfoy family’s training.”

Harry felt a chill run down his spine.

"I understand, Miss Malfoy."

Harry was initially a little relaxed, but Cassandra's words immediately put him on edge.

Yes, if you can't prove that you're worth being trained, then... what if the Malfoy family abandons you?
He was a grateful person and understood the Malfoy family, a large family. He didn't object to Cassandra's words; rather, he felt it was the proper thing to do.

If you can't demonstrate value, then being abandoned is only natural.

Harry felt an even greater sense of urgency. He made up his mind that his top priority should be to practice his spells properly, rather than spending his time eating, drinking, and having fun.

He was just a helpless orphan with nothing but magic.

(End of this chapter)