Harry disappeared with Professor McGonagall in front of everyone.
Since there were no classes that evening and some time before dinner, everyone headed back to the common room first.
Hermione was distracted and dazed, leaning against Basil's thigh.
Last month, on the 19th, was her birthday. She had just turned 12.
As the oldest student in their year, she felt she should have stepped up to advise everyone for the sake of the House Cup.
But no one bought it.
Yet when Basil said the same things, everyone accepted it.
She felt so wronged.
Tilting her head, she couldn't help asking, "I don't understand. Harry and Malfoy clearly broke school rules. Why are Madam Hooch and Professor McGonagall indifferent?"
Basil stroked Hermione's bushy head. "Silly girl."
Hermione (╬￣皿￣): "I'm not silly!"
Basil: "You say you're not silly, but you've been in this House for over a month. Don't you understand what Gryffindor students are like? Let me ask you this: who is the most popular in Gryffindor?"
Hermione frowned. "Fred and George."
Basil nodded. "Exactly! Gryffindors value courage above all else. So, in the eyes of the majority, the Weasley twins, who dare to break rules and bring joy, are undoubtedly true Gryffindors. Points deducted or the House Cup are secondary to that."
Hermione sat up, leaning back against the sofa, confused. "But Professor McGonagall said the House Cup is the embodiment of House honor."
"No," Basil quickly denied. "Silly girl, think about the lyrics of the school song and combine them with reality. Re-evaluate what each House values most."
"Hufflepuff: Food, unity. Ravenclaw: Wisdom, knowledge. Slytherin: Bloodline, power. Gryffindor: Courage, adventure," Hermione answered gloomily.
Knowing the answer made her mood plummet again.
So what she did before... wasn't she just being a clown?
As she thought this, she suddenly felt a large hand on her head again.
It was Basil!
Her heart leaped with joy.
"However, Hermione, Gryffindor needs people like you. Among the hot-headed Gryffindors, someone needs to be the one to pour cold water. That's why Percy is a Prefect. In Harry's father's year, it was Lupin. But you also need to remember: when facing those who don't appreciate it, a verbal reminder is enough."
"Abandon the helper complex; respect the fate of others."
"You are just a student, not a Prefect or a Professor."
"Others won't submit to admonishments from someone they see as an equal."
"Besides, some of them view strict rule-following as lacking courage—not very Gryffindor," Basil comforted.
Hermione didn't ask who Lupin was.
She smiled and nodded. "I understand! From now on, I won't bother with other people's business. Only when you, um, Harry, and Ron make mistakes will I remind you."
"Don't be mad if I tell the teacher in the future!"
You understand nothing!
Basil just wanted to say that.
An 11-year-old kid really doesn't get it.
Unless she hits the wall herself, she probably never will.
At dinner time, everyone gathered in the Great Hall.
Harry finally returned, excitement written all over his face.
He brought back two pieces of news.
One was that he had become the youngest House player in a century.
"You two weren't joking just now?" Ron said, pulling a steak and kidney pie halfway out of his mouth.
Actually, after the Flying Lesson, Basil had shared his guess.
Hermione, not understanding Quidditch (specifically the unwritten rules not in the books), had nodded along.
"What's the other news?" Ron looked at Harry.
Harry was frantically stuffing pie into his mouth.
After taking a big gulp of iced pumpkin juice, he said, "Draco Malfoy. He joined the House team too. Luckily his birthday is in June, otherwise I wouldn't be the youngest player."
"How is that possible?! That's unfair!" Ron slammed the table.
He racked his brains thinking it must be Malfoy's family connections.
But Malfoy's recent pathetic state made it hard to say that.
Did that mean Malfoy got in on his own merit?
Thinking of this, Ron felt worse than death.
Harry gave Ron an understanding look.
He continued eating and talking. "I don't know why, but Snape was there too. Beside him was a troll-like Slytherin upperclassman named Flint (Ron: He's the Slytherin Chaser and Captain; I suspect he has troll blood). After hearing I became a player, he decided on the spot to let Malfoy join too."
Basil began to doubt his memory.
He didn't have a photographic memory of his past life.
Did Draco Malfoy join the team in the first year?
Or was the movie adapted?
Or maybe the duel between Harry and Malfoy, permitted by Madam Hooch, turned into a legitimate Slytherin vs. Gryffindor match...
Which attracted the attention of Snape and Flint?
But that didn't make sense. Snape didn't like Quidditch, did he? He didn't value it.
Basil was scratching his head now.
Suddenly, a large crowd of Slytherin students walked towards them.
Judging by the direction, they had just come from outside the castle.
Leading them was Malfoy and a burly guy who looked like he had muscles for brains.
Malfoy using a Jinx well in first year was impressive.
But surely not this impressive.
Basil was speechless.
He coughed lightly and gripped his wand.
Then he saw them walking towards Harry.
"Are they crazy? Not looking for me?"
Looking at the Draco Echo in his mind, which was turning so blue it was almost purple...
Basil had nothing to say.
If Harry had a System, would his Draco Echo turn Gold immediately?
"Well, well. You must be Harry Potter?" The troll-like Flint opened with a taunt. "Thank you for gifting us such a good Seeker."
"While you were chatting with that idiot Wood, our new player Draco Malfoy was training, adjusting his grip."
"You should understand. Before the adjustment, you were evenly matched. After the adjustment... mph!"
The Slytherin students behind him let out a coordinated sneer.
"Hmph hmph hmph, hahaha, hmph hmph haha."
"Harry Potter." Malfoy said Harry's name slowly and rhythmically, like saying a lover's name.
That Basil's magic was wandless and silent—something even upperclassmen couldn't do.
Even, perhaps, his father...
For now, I'll start by cutting down this scar-head!!!
"When the official match starts, you'll understand who the truly superior Seeker is!"
At that moment, Fred and George Weasley walked into the Great Hall. Seeing Harry surrounded, they strode over quickly.
Vaulting over the table with one hand, they landed in front of Harry in a cool pose, flanking him left and right.
The two pressed forward, getting so close to Flint they were almost touching.
Overflowing with bromance!
"Get lost! Step away from our new player!"
"Marcus Flint, is this all your troll brain can come up with?"
Flint sneered coldly and sniffed the top of Fred's head lightly. "A first-year freshman? Why would we be afraid of him? Ours is far superior!"
Hermione covered her eyes, leaving huge gaps between her fingers. "Is that Flint a pervert?"
Basil: "Don't look at everything through fujoshi lenses. He's just insulting Fred's height with his actions."
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