Although the rain and wind have stopped, the first day of school was far from pleasant for Harry.
The herbology class with Gryffindor in the morning was relatively calm, and Professor Sprout merely had them squeeze the pus from the root of a plant that resembled a nose-tickler, as it had high medical value. However, the magical creature protection class in the morning took a drastic turn.
Hagrid, as expected, gave them another surprise; he brought out a creature even more 'entertaining' than the Hippogriff—the bombardier beetle, a small creature that could shoot fire at people, sting with spines on its shell, and had a particular fondness for biting. In short, no one left Hagrid's class unscathed.
The divination class in the afternoon did not give Harry any useful knowledge; the only thing he gained was the after-school assignment that would consume him for the whole weekend.
"I was just about to go find you, Harry!"
It is time for school to let out, and the foyer is packed with people queuing for dinner. Harry and Ron are both in a gloomy mood as they stand in line, while Hermione is coming down the steps from the other side, carrying a pile of thick books. She spots Harry and Ron, looking unhappy at the end of the crowd.
"What's going on? Are you going to eat first?"
Hermione looks somewhat surprised at Harry.
" Aren't we usually supposed to do Professor Brain's running drill before dinner?"
Perhaps it is because of the exercise that has made Hermione more robust and able to bear heavier loads. Harry found that since the beginning of school, Hermione had more books with her, not just in her arms, but also stuffed into her backpack. As Harry casually looked, these books seemed to be not those needed for fourth-grade classes.
Harry was just about to respond to Hermione's question when Ron beat him to it.
"Harry needs some rest, Hermione, to recover from the exhaustion of this trying day and to mourn our weekend that started and ended before it even began..."
Harry nodded sincerely.
"That's all."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with Ron's excuse, but considering that 'normal' wizards also need to adjust gradually, she didn't say anything and joined the queue along with them.
"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!"
As the teaching assistant for Physical Education, Hermione was just about to remind Harry that after lunch he was not allowed to find excuses to avoid daily training, but then a piercing voice suddenly sounded behind her.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned to see Malfoy coming into the foyer with Crabbe and Goyle, clearly fresh from the Quidditch pitch. Malfoy was out of breath, with a few strands of hair stuck to his forehead, indicating that he had just returned from there.
Normally, Malfoy and his cronies would pick on Harry, but this time, he had even ignored Harry and directly targeted Ron, which was a bit strange.
Harry and Hermione both quickly glanced at Ron, then locked eyes with Malfoy's newspaper in his hand. Their intuition told them that there was something unfavorable about Ron in the paper.
"Why?" Ron asked, clearly sensing something, his tone guarded.
"There's something interesting!"
Malfoy's lips curved into a triumphant smile, and he cleared his throat loudly, raising his voice to be as loud as possible so that everyone in the foyer could hear him.
"The Ministry of Magic is facing another mess -- as reported by our special correspondent Rita Skeeter, due to the bizarre behavior of Arnold Weasley from the Office of the Prohibition of Muggle Property, which has once again plunged the Ministry into an embarrassing new taboo zone following a Quidditch match assault and the mysterious disappearance of a female employee..."
The name Arnold Weasley flashed through Harry's mind and was gone. What he remembered was 'the disappearance of the female employee.' Had Mr. Weasley and Professor Brain not informed the Ministry about Bertha Jorkins' death at the hands of Voldemort?
A fair number of staff and students at Hogwarts subscribed to The Daily Prophet, including Hermione. As Malfoy began, she tugged at Ron's sleeve and whispered softly.
"Come on, Ron, don't pay attention to Malfoy. He's just an annoying little tramp--"
But Ron was reluctant to leave, staring intently at the ground, determined to hear Malfoy's reading. With no other choice, Hermione had to turn to Harry for help, only to find that Harry was listening intently as well.
Half a minute later, Malfoy folded the newspaper and showed it to the half-silent, half-pointing crowd of young wizards in the foyer, grinning widely with his white teeth.
"Take a look at this, a picture of your parents standing in front of your house -- you actually call that a house? Your mother's figure could use some toning down, wouldn't you say?"
Ron was shaking with anger, and everyone in the foyer was watching him.
"Get lost, Malfoy," Harry finally snapped to attention, noting the look Hermione was giving him, "There's no need to be angry, Ron."
"Hey, Potter, you looked like a real brainiac on the Quidditch World Cup, which was quite entertaining. It's a shame the Prophet didn't get a chance to show off your mug."
"That so?" Harry said coldly, "And what about your parents, Malfoy? Should they also make an appearance in the Prophet for the silly little pranks they planned during the Quidditch Final? If they did report it, what would the background be? Your house wouldn't be suitable, I think Azkaban would be much better!"
The noisy foyer fell silent all at once as everyone, without speaking, turned their attention to Harry. It took several seconds for them to react and understand what Potter was saying.
"Shut up, Harry --" Hermione noticed the stunned looks from the others and said nervously, "This is not the place to discuss this. There's no evidence, and --"
"You dare to slander my parents, Potter!"
Malfoy's pale face flushed slightly, and he obviously understood what Harry was saying, but his eyes were filled with disbelief, as if he really had no idea.
"So, you didn't tell your parents about your little pranks during the Quidditch Final, did you?"
The crowd's attention quickly shifted from 'Arnold Weasley' to the insinuation Harry was making. Even Ron sensed the unusual tension in the foyer, and Hermione walked up behind the two boys who were standing there like idiots, grabbed one arm with one hand and pulled them away without saying a word.
"Wait, clear this up, Potter!" Malfoy screamed.
"Shut up, Malfoy!" Hermione shouted angrily, pulling Harry and Ron along with her.
BANG!
Several people let out screams--Harry felt something white-hot brush against his cheek--he quickly reached into his robes to pull out his wand, but before he could touch it, a roar echoed through the foyer.
"Oh, no, you're not allowed to do that, kid!"
Harry, Hermione, and Ron spun around to see Professor Moody limping down the marble stairs, holding his wand and staring at the door with both his big and small eyes, looking slightly surprised.
"Not bad, kid, but I want to see how far you can hide!"
Harry immediately directed his gaze towards the door and saw that the marble floor where Malfoy had been standing a moment ago was smoking, Crabbe and Goyle were frozen in place, and Malfoy was sprinting towards the front door in fear!
"Did he hurt you?"
As he passed Harry, Moody said irritably, his voice deep and husky.
"No --" Harry said blankly, "It didn't hit."
So, Moody quickly moved away from Harry, pushing past the bewildered Crabbe and Goyle whose legs had gone weak with fear, glaring angrily as he raised his wand and stepped out of the doorway, bringing his wand down again!
CRACK!
A strong gust of wind surged into the foyer, blowing Harry's eyes shut, and the crowd of young wizards queuing for dinner made a collective gasp behind him.
"What's happening?"
Once she could stand steady, Hermione immediately voiced her question.
Moody was standing motionless outside the castle, his wand pointed towards the marble steps outside.
"What are you doing,"
Under the steps, Amortens glanced at Draco, who seemed to be quite startled and hiding behind him, raised an eyebrow, put down his wand, and calmly looked towards the doorway.
"Professor Moody?"
(The end of this chapter)
