Harry returns from Hogwarts Legacy

Chapter 448 Beating McCragan
Harry didn't intend to interfere in his friends' affairs.

He's never been interested in who likes whom or who doesn't—well, not that he's uninterested, he just doesn't want to get involved. But when it comes to gossip, he, Potter, is quite interested.

Gossiping is a natural human instinct.

“But this is a good thing.” Ron seemed to see everything as a good thing. “Anyway, Malfoy is definitely better than that Thomas. I really dislike him—the last person I disliked this much was that guy in seventh grade… what was his name again? That big guy.”

“Cormac McLagan,” Harry reminded Ron. “That’s his name, if I remember correctly.”

“Yes, McClagan.” Ron nodded. “That bastard not only has his eye on my Quidditch goalkeeper position, but he’s also got a thing for Hermione. He’s really gone mad, isn’t he?”

"So you mean you want to beat him up?" Harry asked, never one to miss a chance for a good show.

“Ha.” Ron chuckled. “If he were standing in front of me right now, I’d definitely give him a good curse, I mean it.”

Before he finished speaking, Harry pointed to the stands not far in front of him.

“Look, Cormac McClargan is sitting right there…hey, he seems to be looking for Hermione, trying to strike up a conversation with her…”

Ron looked in the direction Harry was pointing and saw MacLagan scurrying awkwardly toward Hermione, while Hermione kept dodging him with a look of utter disdain.

He suddenly became extremely angry.

Hey, you're wearing a straw hat with frills and a urea bag over your body, cosplaying as a One Piece character. You think you're worthy of competing with me for a girl?
He rode his broomstick and snatched the bat from Katie's hand—Katie wasn't a batter, she was just borrowing it to take a look—then Ron swung the bat and hit the runner at McLagan, who was flirting with Hermione.

"Oh!"

The ball struck McLagan on the back of the head, and he passed out instantly.

"I'm sorry," Ron said apologetically, "I didn't mean to—"

In fact, anyone could see that he did it on purpose.

After McLagan was taken to the school hospital by his classmates, Ron was taken into the auditorium by Professor McGonagall.

"The impact is extremely bad!" she stammered. "Gryffindor will deduct fifty points because of your actions!"

Ron looked indifferent; he was the kind of person who always acted swiftly and decisively.

I don't care who you are, MacArthur, McGregor, or any of those people. If you dare to mess with me, you'll be finished.

A significant number of the seventh-year boys in Gryffindor made some trash talk to Ron, but almost everyone except for the seventh-year students at McLagan gave Ron a thumbs up.

Ginny was the same; she would praise her brother to everyone she met, saying he was "a real man."

He's definitely become more manly; after all, he's the first person to deliberately use a baseball bat to hit a classmate in the head with a stray ball.

Of course, it must be emphasized here that it was intentional, because quite a few unlucky students were still hit by the moving ball.

Ron will not only lose fifty points, but he will also be put in solitary confinement—not in Professor Snape's office, but in Filch's.

"Do you want to come with me?" Ron asked Harry tentatively, his eyes full of anticipation.

“I won’t be going with you, bro.” Harry patted Ron on the shoulder. “Hope you and Filch have a nice night—goodnight.”

After saying that, Harry turned over and went to sleep, leaving Ron sighing beside the bed before turning and leaving the dormitory.

Around midnight, Ron returned.

He showed no signs of drowsiness, still clutching many cards in his hand, and the first thing he did upon returning to his dormitory was to shake Harry awake.

Harry vaguely felt someone shaking him, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Ron's smirking face.

“You’d better have something to do,” Harry said expressionlessly.

“Sure, something’s up. You need to take a look at this, buddy.” Ron picked up the stack of papers and handed it to Harry. “Look, it’s full of things about your dad—I saw it in Filch’s office… Of course, be prepared, it’s not good news.”

"Really?" Harry asked suspiciously. "What does it say?"

"Are you sure you want me to read it aloud?" Ron asked tentatively.

“Read it, I just woke up and my eyes are a little blurry,” Harry said, yawning.

Ron took a deep breath, glanced at Seamus and Neville who were still fast asleep, and gave them a "close your ears" spell.

“James Potter and Sirius Black used an illegal curse on Bertram Aubrey, causing Aubrey’s head to double in size. Both of them are in solitary confinement,” he said. “You see, I told you, it wasn’t a good thing written there…”

Harry: ...

He reached out and took the cards, flipping through them carefully. They were mostly records of his father James and his best friend Sirius Black’s various misdeeds, but none of them were too serious—at least not as serious as hitting a classmate on the head with a baseball bat. Sometimes Lupin and Peter Pettigrew were also mentioned.

“I can tell,” Harry said, his tone complicated. “My dad was pretty mischievous back in Hogwarts.”

“More than just skin?” Ron glanced at Harry sideways. “He hung his classmate up and publicly displayed his bitter tea seeds—the kind that are so dirty they’re practically black. Just think how awful that is…”

“Of course.” Ron added before Harry could speak, “This guy holds grudges; he even remembered them when his enemy’s son started school…”

“Stop talking, stop talking…” Harry waved his hand.

Ron chuckled and didn't continue the topic.

"So, can you not let me participate in the trial?" he suddenly pleaded. "Please, Harry, if I participate in that trial, I might be scared to death by the spiders. You don't want a brother who's scared to death, do you?"

“No way, brother,” Harry said with a chuckle. “You’d better get cleaned up and get ready to feed the giant spider—”

Ron plopped down on the bed, looking utterly dejected, muttering to himself.

When Ron woke up the next morning, he was still somewhat absent-minded.

He was extremely reluctant to face the eight-eyed giant spiders—especially the swarms of them, which were simply not something a human should be able to face.

Just as he was lost in thought, Hermione suddenly walked up to him.

“I want to talk to you, Ron,” she said.

"What are you going to talk about?" Ron asked, puzzled.

However, he didn't take it seriously. After all, Hermione had just praised him yesterday, but she disapproved of his behavior. In short, she was happy that Ron had protected her, but advised him not to act impulsively against his classmates, in case he got expelled.
In Hermione's opinion, being expelled from school was worse than death.

“That so-called half-blood prince,” Hermione whispered.

“Oh, here we go again,” Harry muttered under his breath. “Can’t you change the subject?”

“I’m not changing the subject,” Hermione said firmly, “until you finish. I’ve been trying to find out who made inventing the Dark Arts a hobby—” “This guy didn’t make it a hobby—” Ron said seriously.

Hermione opened her mouth.

"This brother, this brother—you're saying he's a man?"

“We’ve already said it,” Ron said impatiently, “Prince, Hermione, Prince!”

“Okay!” Hermione said, her cheeks flushing, and pulled an old newspaper from her pocket, throwing it slammed onto Ron’s desk. “Look at this! Look at the picture on it!”

Ron picked up the tattered newspaper and stared at the yellowed photos of the event; curious Harry also came over to look.

He was also curious to know who this half-blood prince was.

The photo shows a thin girl who is about fifteen years old.

She wasn't pretty; she looked somewhat eccentric and sullen. She had thick, bushy eyebrows, a long face, and a pale complexion. The caption below the photograph read: Erin Prince, Captain of the Gobstone Team at Hogwarts.

"What's wrong?" Ron said, glancing at the relevant article, which was just a mundane news item about an inter-school competition.

"Her name is Eileen Prince. Prince, Ron."

They exchanged a glance, and Ron realized what Hermione was about to say. He suddenly burst into laughter.

"impossible."

"What?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"You think she's mixed race...?" Ron said, shaking his head with a laugh. "Oh, don't be silly."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Why not? Ron, there are no real princes in the wizarding world! The word is either a nickname, a self-proclaimed title, or just a name. Impossible? Listen to me! If she has a wizard father named 'Prince' and her mother is a Muggle, then she could be a 'Half-Blood Prince'!"

Ron couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes, she's a genius, Hermione..."

Hermione still didn't give up on her point of view: "But that's very possible! Maybe she's proud to be a 'half-blood prince'!"

“Listen, Hermione, I know it’s not a woman, I can sense it.” Ron sighed, maintaining his stance, “I don’t believe the Half-Blood Prince is a woman—”

"You just think girls can't be that smart," Hermione said angrily.

broken.

We've started discussing our positions.

Ron sighed again.

"We've known each other for so many years, how could I still think girls aren't smart?" he said helplessly. "Look, you're the smartest girl I've ever met. I don't think I have even half your intelligence... But you have to understand, the mixed-race prince's handwriting doesn't look like a woman's handwriting at all... messy and sloppy, that's clearly a characteristic of male handwriting—if you don't believe me, look at the handwriting of other classmates, no matter which girl it is, see whose handwriting is as messy as a clump of straw?"

Hermione opened her mouth.

She wanted to argue, but she had to admit that Ron was right.

Starting with the handwriting was something she hadn't expected.

“Fine.” Hermione gave up her insistence and put away the newspaper. “You wait, Ron, I have to find out her true identity! I won’t give up until I find out the truth!”

Ron didn't say anything; he knew that nothing he said could change Hermione's mind.

This girl... once she's made up her mind about something, not even eight Thestrals could pull her back.

"I'm actually quite curious."

After Hermione left, Ron whispered to Harry, "Why is Hermione so obsessed with finding out the Half-Blood Prince's true identity? Is there some kind of consequence? Or is the Half-Blood Prince a dark wizard as evil as the mysterious... Voldemort?"

Ron has changed a lot. He no longer turns pale at the mention of Voldemort like before. In fact, all the students in the Duel Hut dare to face Voldemort's name directly, instead of referring to him as "Mysterio."

“I don’t know.” Harry thought for a moment, then said to Ron, “What I’m certain of is that he’s definitely not Voldemort, because…”

Before he could finish speaking, he was interrupted by a deep, muffled voice.

"Ronald Weasley!"

Harry and Ron looked up together and saw McLagan's burly body.

"Is there something you need?" Ron asked innocently.

McClagan's face flushed red, and he angrily demanded, "Why did you hit me with the ball!"

“Oh, I was about to ask you that too. Why did you catch my ball with your face?” Ron retorted. “You made me lose fifty points and get time off. You’ve got some nerve, McClargan.”

“Bullshit!” McClagan gasped. “You did it on purpose, Weasley—”

“So what if it was intentional?” Ron laughed. “Professor McGonagall has already punished me. Do you even realize the seriousness of the matter? You were flirting with my girlfriend Hermione, and she clearly doesn’t like you. I was just doing what a man should do.”

McLagan immediately pulled out his wand from his pocket.

Ron's words just now caused him further harm.

If Ron's nonchalant attitude earlier had angered him, then the fact that Ron said Hermione was his girlfriend was a devastating blow to McCragan.

"You want to duel me?" Ron shook his head with a smile. "What a boring trick—what do you think this is? A dueling arena? This is Gryffindor's common room!"

“Pull out your wand, you coward!” McLagan roared.

Although Ron was Harry's best friend, McLagan was not afraid at all, believing he was in the right.

“You seem to have a problem here.” Ron bent his index finger and tapped his temple, making a universally recognized gesture.

McClagan roared angrily and pointed his wand at Ron.

"Stupefy!"

However, Ron was prepared. He swiftly drew his wand and deflected the incoming spell.

Then, the wand was aimed at McLagan, and a silent disarming charm was launched, causing the wand in McLagan's hand to spin and fly into Ron's hand.

(End of this chapter)