Chapter 247. The Great Chief and the Twins Who Caused Trouble
"No, Bart," Adrian Wesson said earnestly. "You've grown stronger."
"Really?"
Hearing his master's words, Bart blinked again and again.
It truly didn't feel anything at all.
However, Adrian had already analysed Bart's current condition through the Tree of Wisdom.
[Name: Bart]
[Species: Beech Tree]
[Level: 3]
[Trait: Great Chief]
[Status: Growing (0%)]
Bart's "Chief" trait had upgraded to "Great Chief."
Although Adrian had absolutely no idea what this trait was good for, something special must have changed in Bart.
"Truly nothing different?" Adrian looked up at Bart. "Feel carefully."
Bart put on a thoughtful expression.
A few seconds later, it said, embarrassed, "Master, Bart is hungry."
Adrian had no choice but to feed Bart some of his magic again.
The first Tuesday of December.
It had been more than a week since Bart obtained the "Great Chief" trait.
Even so, progress remained small.
Bart's dopey look couldn't be further from the word "Great Chief."
Apart from that, Sirius Black still hadn't shown himself. Aurors from the Ministry of Magic were still stationed near Hogwarts and occasionally patrolled the castle.
Morning, in the Great Hall.
Harry was absent-mindedly eating breakfast with his friends.
Though nearly a month had passed, he still felt a bit down whenever he thought of that Quidditch match they'd lost.
"Chin up, Harry," Ron said around a mouthful of sausage. "It's just one match. We've still got a shot at the Cup. Who are we up against next?"
"Slytherin," Hermione replied, lifting her head from her book.
"Ah, right." Ron nodded. "We won't lose to Slytherin. They've got Malfoy—that's a weak link on their team."
Harry forced a smile.
Indeed, although he had lost to Cedric, when it came to Malfoy he was completely confident he could take him easily.
Thinking of this, Harry felt a little lighter.
In fact, he also thought he'd been taking that match too much to heart—Adrian had comforted him as well, telling him not to mind a momentary defeat.
"Have you finished your Potions homework?" Hermione suddenly set her book down. "It's due tomorrow!"
"Haven't started," Ron said, utterly unconcerned. "You'll help us, won't you?"
Harry looked to Hermione hopefully as well.
Lately he'd spent most of his free time on Quidditch practice—ever since that loss to Hufflepuff, Wood had increased their weekly training sessions.
However, Hermione, unusually, shook her head, a troubled look on her face. "I'm afraid not this time. I haven't finished mine either… I'm still quite a way off."
Harry and Ron both widened their eyes; Ron's fork dropped into his plate with a clatter.
Clearly, the fact that Hermione hadn't finished her homework had dealt a huge blow to their worldview.
"You didn't finish?" Ron repeated in disbelief. "Hermione Granger didn't finish her homework?"
Hermione frowned in frustration. "Since I took more electives, I never have enough time. And the work Snape's set isn't even in our textbook."
Harry nodded in deep agreement.
Indeed—whatever had got into Snape lately—he had suddenly started lecturing in class about a potion called the Wolfsbane Potion, and that simply wasn't material for third-years.
Worse still, Snape had demanded a twelve-inch essay.
"So what are we going to do, Harry?" Ron stirred his mashed potatoes miserably. "I don't even know what that potion is for."
Harry spread his hands, helpless.
He could only hope he might work a miracle with a quill tonight.
Just then, while the three were fretting over their Potions assignment, a commotion broke out at the far end of the Gryffindor table.
An angry voice rose above the bustle of the Hall and reached their ears: "A full fifty points! Do you have any idea what that means?"
Harry looked over and saw Percy bellowing. He was standing in front of George and Fred, scolding them.
"Gryffindor had only just caught up to Slytherin's score! And now you've ruined it!" Percy's ears had turned red—plainly, he was furious.
Surprisingly, George and Fred kept their heads down, unusually not talking back to Percy's lecturing.
Though they didn't like taking orders from their elder brother,
still—
with the points deduction for Gryffindor staring them in the face, they had no choice but to bow their heads and admit fault.
Seeing his two younger brothers silent, Percy sighed, some of his anger ebbing.
"I'll go speak to Professor McGonagall."
He tossed this over his shoulder and strode out of the Hall, not even bothering with breakfast.
The three of them exchanged a look at once and hurried over to the twins.
"So… what exactly did you do?" Harry asked in a low voice.
"You really lost fifty points?!" Hermione followed up straightaway.
George raked a hand through his red hair in irritation. "Don't ask. It was last night. Professor McGonagall docked us fifty in total."
"Last night?" Hermione pounced on the key word. "What did you do last night?"
"Just an ordinary bit of night-wandering…"
George hadn't finished when Ron leapt to his feet. "Hold on! Night-wandering? You consider that ordinary?"
"Calm down, little Ronnie," Fred said, shooting Ron a glance, helpless. "We haven't been caught for ages. It's our speciality. We were just a bit careless last night."
"You ought to be far more ashamed," Ron said angrily. "Fifty points isn't a small number."
"We'll think of something," Fred said, patting Ron's shoulder. "No need to fret, Ronnie-kins."
"Don't call me that here!" Ron got even angrier.
"I think it sounds rather nice," Hermione said at the worst possible moment.
For some reason, when she heard the twins had lost fifty points, she didn't feel very angry.
Even she found that a little inexplicable.
If she herself had lost fifty points, she would never forgive herself easily.
But the twins… honestly, when she heard they'd lost points, it just felt… perfectly reasonable.
As if they existed to lose points.
After Harry and the others left, George and Fred collapsed onto the table as if their strength had gone.
Though they acted like they didn't care, fifty points wasn't a small number for them. It might take a long time to make up for this mistake.
And there was something even worse…
"What are we going to do?" George looked at his brother.
"Nothing for it," Fred said, standing up. "We go to the one person who can help us."
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