Harry returns from Hogwarts Legacy

Chapter 414 The Divine Edge is Shadowless
During the second week of Potions class, Snape and the other students noticed that Ron seemed like a different person.

Ron seemed to have gained motivation to study, and he would always take the textbook of the Half-Blood Prince to preview before each class.

His explanation was that he wanted to avoid being criticized by Professor Snape for simply copying other people's textbooks.

But Professor Snape didn't complain; Hermione betrayed him first.

Potions class ended under Professor Snape's somewhat resentful gaze—because he pinched his nose and gave Ron five points.

Although the points were quickly deducted from others, it was clearly unacceptable to give points to the silly little giant Ron.

After class, the Gryffindor students packed up their things and headed out.

"How did you suddenly become so gifted?" Hermione stared at Ron for a long time. "I never thought you had such talent in Potions class—I don't think Professor Snape's tutoring was that useful."

"I'll tell you later," Ron said mysteriously in a low voice.

They gathered together and sat down at the Gryffindor dining table.

As they were getting ready for lunch, Ron noticed Hermione was still staring at him, so he told her the truth.

Hermione's face grew increasingly grim as she listened to his account.

You probably think I cheated, right?

Ron was annoyed by the expression on her face, and after he finished speaking, he asked her a question.

For some reason, he always felt that being suspected by Hermione was a betrayal that was extremely difficult for him to accept!

“Yes, you didn’t do it all by yourself, did you?” Hermione said curtly.

“I just did it the way you guys do,” Ron said, “and it could have been a disaster, right? I took the risk, so I got my compensation—which is fair, considering I risked being poisoned by Professor Snape…”

He originally wanted to make a sarcastic remark about Snape's sharp tongue, but he held back in the end.

"Wait—" a voice suddenly rang out, "Did I hear that right, Weasley? You've been following instructions written in a book all this time?"

Ron turned around and saw Draco.

“This is none of your business, Malfoy,” Ron said expressionlessly. He didn’t want Draco to know that he was using the Half-Blood Prince’s notebook.

Draco grinned and leaned closer, putting his arm around Neville's shoulder: "I'm really curious..."

“That’s not the notebook you found in your first year, Malfoy,” Hermione retorted sarcastically. “At least in Gryffindor, there isn’t a Voldemort disguised as a woman trying to drain our life force!”

Hearing Hermione's words, Draco admitted that he had broken down a bit.

“What notebook? Don’t slander me!” Draco protested, but his body language betrayed him as he stood up from his chair. “Don’t talk nonsense, I don’t have one, I’ve never heard of any notebook—”

Having said that, he fled in panic.

After Draco left, O'Ron muttered, "There's really nothing to be surprised about, Hermione. It's just an old textbook that's been scribbled on."

“But you did exactly what it said,” Hermione said sternly. “Even though I just told Malfoy that, I actually have my doubts about this thing…”

“I just tried a few tips written in the margins of the book, and frankly, Hermione, there’s nothing strange about it—” Ron argued.

“I think my guess is correct, or at least we should confirm it,” Hermione said, placing her wand on the table. “We should check if there’s anything wrong with it. I mean, all those weird instructions, who knows what they’re all about?”

“Hey!” Ron protested angrily, and Hermione pulled the book “Advanced Potions Making” from his bag and raised her wand.

"Revelio!"

She tapped the cover decisively and read aloud.

There was no sound at all; the textbooks were still textbooks, old, dirty, and with the corners curled up.

"Is it done?" Ron asked irritably. "Are you waiting to see if it'll do a few backflips? Or do you think it'll bite like Jack?"

“It seems fine,” Hermione said, still staring at the textbook with skepticism. “I mean, it does look like… just a textbook.”

“Very well, then I’ll take it back.” Ron said, snatching the textbook from the table.

He carefully placed the textbook back into his schoolbag, then said angrily, "You just think I'm not worthy of studying well, right? All the grades I got in Potions class were due to cheating..."

“I didn’t,” Hermione retorted.

“But your actions prove that’s exactly what you think!” Ron said angrily. “You just don’t trust me, you don’t believe me!”

Hermione was about to say something when Harry subtly tugged at her sleeve.

"Don't pull me!" Hermione yelled at Harry, turning her head away.

Harry was left looking completely bewildered by the shout.

No? Girl?

Why are you yelling at me?
Perhaps Hermione realized her mistake, for she quickly apologized to her best friend: "I'm sorry, Harry—I was a little impatient. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that..."

“You should apologize to Ron,” Harry sighed. “Honestly, Hermione, your attitude just now was really hurtful. You really don’t trust Ron at all.”

Hermione's lips trembled slightly, but she didn't say anything.

Ron was truly hurt by Hermione; this distrust made him feel betrayed by his best friend.

He stood up, made an excuse that he wasn't feeling well, and left with his schoolbag.

“I think you’re going a bit too far, sister,” Harry said to Hermione, shaking his head.

In the following lessons, Ron followed the Half-Blood Prince's advice exactly—even when it differed greatly from the textbook, Ron trusted the Half-Blood Prince's judgment.

As it turns out, textbooks aren't always right. Ron always manages to find advanced solutions to problems, while Hermione, who follows the textbooks verbatim, produces potions that are far less satisfying than those Ron makes by following the instructions in the Half-Blood Prince series.

Hermione's temper has gotten worse and worse, and it's hard to say why.

In the end, it was Anne who quietly answered Harry's question.

“She felt surpassed in Potions, a subject where she had always been far superior to Ron, and she felt insecure,” she said. “Women crave security, and she was in a state of extreme insecurity. Do you think she could be in a good mood?”

As expected, it's only women who truly understand women. Harry felt enlightened upon hearing this.

It seems that's really the case! But he didn't know how to persuade Ron and Hermione, so he could only hope that Hermione would come to her senses.

If Hermione can't understand it, then no matter what Ron says, it's all in vain.

Are you suggesting Ron give up that notebook? Don't be ridiculous, that notebook is more dear to him than Quidditch is right now.

In the common room, Ron and Harry discussed for a long time, trying to figure out who this half-blood prince really was.

Because of too much homework, he hadn't been able to read the book "Advanced Potion Making" carefully yet, but he had already flipped through it from beginning to end and found that the prince had added notes on almost every page, and those notes were not all related to potion making.

Some of the descriptions look like spells the prince made up himself.

“Look at this spell,” Ron said to Harry. “Sectums… what are these letters after that? Can you help me figure them out? I don’t quite understand them.”

“Let me see.” Harry took the potions notebook—to be honest, the Half-Blood Prince’s handwriting was far too messy. If we were to judge by Professor Hao Ying’s definition of ‘handwriting reflects personality,’ the Half-Blood Prince was certainly not a neat and efficient person.

"He'd have to go at least a year without a bath," Harry maliciously speculated.

He examined it carefully for a while, then frowned and said, "Perhaps it's Sempra? That makes sense, right? Let me see..."

Harry said, picking up his wand.

“This is the trajectory of the wand swing,” Ron said to Harry.

Harry nodded and raised his wand.

"Sectumsempra!"

"No response?" Ron asked.

“No, no, no, no,” Harry shook his head. “I felt something fly off my wand… Oh, look!”

Just then, the table not far in front of them split in two.

"Luckily it didn't hit anyone," Ron said, looking at the table with lingering fear.

“I would never use an untested spell on a person,” Harry rolled his eyes. “That’s common sense, common sense!”

That makes sense. Ron shrugged, then exclaimed with delight, "Merlin's mustache, Harry! Is this spell really that powerful? It can cut through a table... I think it must be a very powerful offensive spell."

“Yeah, I wonder if there’s a counter-curse.” Harry glanced at the spell. “Let’s look again. I think there’s definitely a counter-curse for this spell in the book—”

"I wonder how much damage this spell will do to trolls," Ron began to speculate. "Could it cut through a troll's skin, or a fire dragon? How much damage would it do to a fire dragon?"

“We’ll have to wait and see after we use it,” Harry shrugged. “But I think it should do a lot of damage to trolls.”

“So what do you think,” Ron asked, “is the Half-Blood Prince a man or a woman? I think his handwriting is more like a man’s than a woman’s—how could a girl have such messy handwriting?”

“Maybe it’s a woman,” Hermione’s voice suddenly came from behind them. “It could also be a girl. I think the notebook doesn’t look like a boy’s; it looks more like a girl’s.”

“His name is ‘Half-Blood Prince’,” Ron corrected, disapprovingly. “How many girls call themselves princes?”

"Heh." Hermione scoffed. "When I was little, I used to call myself a prince."

Ron ignored her, thinking she was being unreasonable.

"Alright, Ron," Harry nudged Ron's arm. "Put your textbooks away for now; there's a Quidditch selection match coming up later."

“I heard there are a lot of people participating in the selection trials this year?” Ron said, standing up. “I bet, man, you’re the captain this year, they’re all here for you.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Harry smiled nonchalantly. “I’ve been on the Gryffindor team since my first year. If they were interested in me, why didn’t they sign up in the previous years?”

That's absolutely right.

They left the common room, and Hermione, standing at the back, felt like an outsider.

She felt that if she didn't do something, Ron might drift further and further away from her.

So she chased after him.

"What would you like for breakfast?" Ron asked, flipping through the menu. "Oatmeal? Or bread?"

"Eat something filling," Hermione said, sitting down next to Ron. "It's raining outside. You need to eat to keep warm, otherwise you'll feel cold and it will affect your performance."

"Thank you," Ron said, offering a convenient way out.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, subtly and without making it obvious.

Just then, the messenger owl arrived, swooping down through the rain-splashed windows and sprinkling raindrops on everyone in the auditorium, both on their heads and bodies.

“I think these owls really need to be taught a lesson,” Ron said angrily. “Look what they’re doing! They’re splashing rainwater all over the food in front of me—thankfully I managed to block it!”

Hermione pursed her lips, her face also filled with anger and dissatisfaction.

Because an owl splashed rainwater all over her face.

Just then, a third owl landed in front of her with that day's Daily Prophet, diverting her attention.

She hurriedly opened the package, took out the newspaper, and glanced at the front page.

"Is there anything interesting?" Ron asked, chewing on his fried egg.

“No,” Hermione said. “It’s just news about the Ministry of Magic. It seems like nothing’s been happening lately—oh, look here, it mentions that Minister for Magic Mr. Black has made some contact with the Muggle Prime Minister.”

"Is it necessary?" Ron asked, somewhat bewildered.

“Of course it’s necessary!” Hermione said. “There are over a hundred million Muggle people in Britain. Just think how many people are in the British wizarding world?”

"One hundred million people?" Ron exclaimed in astonishment. "Really? I remember Britain only having tens of millions of people."

“Oh, if you include the Commonwealth countries,” Hermione said, her face neither flushed nor pale.

"Then what you said is as good as nothing at all," Ron rolled his eyes and said. "Who doesn't know what the situation is like in the British Muggle world these days? Do they still think it's the mighty British Empire that once dominated the world?"

Hermione didn't refute Ron's words; for some reason, he seemed a little guilty.

"Alright, let's not dwell on that," Harry said, wiping his mouth. "Let's focus on the next thing—the Quidditch Selections are coming up soon, and we need to get ready."

(End of this chapter)