Harry hadn't read the book and therefore didn't know what it contained.
But from Hermione's expression, he realized that the curse… was probably serious.
"Where did you find this book?!" Hermione still looked distressed, rolling her eyes. "My God, I'm afraid this book will take me straight to Azkaban…"
"I need to correct you," said Ron, raising his hand. "Now that you're a witch, God won't protect you; He'd rather see you turned into a human torch—"
Hermione glared at him with piercing eyes.
"Um, what's wrong with this book?" Harry asked cautiously.
"Do you know what the first 'minor curse' in this book is?!" Hermione growled, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention, and continued: "It's the Imperius Curse! Astral projection! Good heavens, what kind of 'harmless' curse is that?!"
Harry remembered: it was the book that Sebastian had stolen from the Gaunt house.
Hmm… that was in keeping with the Gaunt family tradition. After all, they were known for forcing their own children to use Crucio on Muggle children, so it wasn't surprising that they considered "astral projection" a 'harmless little curse'.
"This must be from the Gaunt family library," Harry said without hesitation, betraying his friend. "When I took the book, I saw a name on the side; it seemed to say 'Ominus Gaunt'."
"Ah, if it's Gaunt, then no surprise," interrupted Ron. "You know, the Gaunt family is descended from Slytherin, and Slytherin himself was a dark wizard."
"The founder of Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, astonished. "Professor Slytherin was a dark wizard? How is that possible?"
Harry didn't argue. He had seen Slytherin's manuscript in the Chamber of Secrets, and its content certainly didn't seem like something a virtuous person would write.
Ron shrugged and said nothing further.
"You can't read this book anymore!" Hermione whispered again. "I don't want to get involved with this so-called 'minor curse' and end up in Azkaban—or worse, expelled from school!"
"You really don't know what's worse, do you?" Ron said, shrugging.
He received a scathing look in return.
As November approached, the weather became extremely cold.
After all, the Scottish Highlands are a high-latitude region, and even with the North Atlantic Current, the latitude is comparable to Moscow.
The mountains surrounding Hogwarts were shrouded in mist and covered in snow, and the lakes were frozen with thick layers of ice, hard as tempered steel. Every morning, frost covered the ground.
From the upper-floor window, Hagrid could be seen, wrapped in a long mole-skin coat, wearing rabbit fur gloves and enormous beaver-skin boots, thawing his flying brooms on the Quidditch pitch.
For some reason, Hermione seemed more nervous than Harry about his first Quidditch match, just like Ron.
Ron spent his days polishing Harry's broomstick; Hermione, on the other hand, borrowed a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages from the library so Harry could quickly learn the rules of the sport.
Due to the extreme cold, Hermione even conjured several handfuls of blue flames, which could be stored in jam jars — not only Harry and Ron, but also Seamus and Neville received some.
Seamus, who had long forgotten his grudges, even felt the urge to call his mother because of those portable flames.
On Friday's Potions lesson, Harry inadvertently brought Quidditch Through the Ages to class.
Snape was beside him as usual, eyes fixed on every step of the potion-making process.
After Harry brewed a perfect Life-and-Death potion, Snape muttered a nasal "t."
It was unclear whether he was pleased or displeased, but Harry simply assumed this was a classic example of Slytherin hypocrisy.
However, Snape was quickly drawn to a book on Harry's desk. He grabbed it, and upon seeing the title, a sinister smile spread across his face.
"Well, well, Potter," Snape said, looking at Harry. "Bringing a book unrelated to Potions will cost Gryffindor two points — and you will serve detention in my office every Wednesday and Saturday night."
Harry opened his mouth, genuinely surprised. Snape would really deduct points over a Quidditch book?
This was the first time Snape had taken points from him without reason — the last time he might have deserved it.
At the end of class, Ron and Hermione approached him.
"Harry…," Ron whispered, "Did you notice that Snape seems to be limping, like he's hurt?"
"I think so," Harry replied, recalling Snape's uneven gait, sometimes appearing 1.8 meters tall, other times 1.7 meters.
"But besides that, I think I need to get that book back," Harry said again.
"You're crazy."
"You're insane," Hermione and Ron said in unison.
But Harry didn't think so. He felt that Snape quite liked him, and as for not liking… how could that be possible? How could his parents' friend dislike him? He probably just didn't like Gryffindor.
With that in mind, he continued walking, intending to try his luck in the staff room.
He knocked, but there was no answer. Pushing the door slightly, he saw only Snape and Filch inside, and Snape had lifted his robes.
"Wow," Harry thought. Now he understood why Snape was limping: his leg was covered in blood, the wound was open, and the red muscle was visible.
"Professor, this…" Filch handed him a bandage.
"Blast," Snape muttered, "How is it possible to keep an eye on three heads at once?"
Three heads?
Harry frowned. Did Snape's injury have something to do with a three-headed creature?
Before he could think further, he heard a roar.
Snape had seen him.
"Potter!"
Harry looked up and saw Snape lowering his robes, staring at him with a dark expression.
"Excuse me, professor," Harry asked hesitantly, "I was wondering if I could retrieve that book?"
"Out!" Snape roared, pointing to the door.
Harry turned and left without a word.
Fortunately, the professor seemed to have forgotten to deduct Gryffindor's points; that was a relief, he thought.But… what exactly had injured Professor Snape?
Harry decided to ask Hagrid; he seemed to know a lot about magical creatures, so perhaps he might have an idea.
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