51-55

*Chapter 51: Grades Announced *

In the end, Harry and Draco came to an agreement to keep their distance until the rumors faded.

However, this didn’t dampen the enthusiasm of fangirls crafting their own stories. One explicit fanfic even made its way into Snape’s Potions class, where he confiscated it with a look of utter disdain.

The culprit was a senior Ravenclaw student, who was promptly docked 50 points by Snape, unflinchingly.

Thank goodness the wizarding world isn’t plagued by political correctness.

Finally, Friday’s Potions class arrived—grading day.

As usual, Professor Snape stormed into the classroom, slamming the door with a resounding bang. The students were long accustomed to this spectacle; in fact, if he didn’t make such an entrance, they’d probably feel something was off.

“Lately... it seems we have two stars in the spotlight,” Snape drawled in his signature greasy tone. “Let me see. Ah, Mr. Malfoy, daring to challenge societal norms by publicly confessing his love to Mr. Potter in front of everyone. I’m sure your father must be so proud of your bravery.”

Draco opened his mouth to retort but found himself thoroughly shut down by Snape’s biting sarcasm.

Not that he had the courage to argue with Snape anyway.

“I’d like to see you all channel the same passion you show for gossip into your studies. But it seems you’re no different from mosquitoes sniffing out the scent of blood,” Snape sneered, glancing disdainfully at the grade sheets in his hand. “Sometimes, you truly make me question whether I’m teaching students or a pack of trolls.”

“Luke Mountbatten,” he called out suddenly. As Luke stood, a rare, unsettling smile crept across Snape’s face. “Students whose names I call do not need to stand up. Sit down, Mr. Mountbatten. You scored 100.”

Luke internally rolled his eyes. Professor Snape, you’re definitely doing this on purpose...  

Ron, who’d been waiting to enjoy someone else’s misfortune, felt his spirits crumble at the perfect score.

What? Weren’t we all in this together, not studying? Didn’t you say you’d do terribly? How could you secretly ace the test?  

“Harry Potter... Our dear Savior, and recently the leading lady of the drama... 99 points. You lost a point for misspelling a word on a short-answer question.”

“Hermione Granger,” Snape’s smile vanished, replaced by a cold expression that cast a shadow over his face. “Ah, our little know-it-all. 98 points.”

“Draco Malfoy... 98 points.”

“Daphne Greengrass... 98 points.”

“Millicent Bulstrode... 98 points.”

“Pansy Parkinson... 96 points.”

“Blaise Zabini... 95 points.”

“Lavender Brown... 95 points.”

“Theodore Nott... 94 points.”

“Eloise Midgen... 93 points.”

“Vincent Crabbe... 90 points.”

“Gregory Goyle... 88 points.”

...

“Now then, let’s move on to Gryffindor’s trio of trolls.”

“Ronald Weasley...” Snape’s death glare fixed on Ron’s face. After a long pause, he announced coldly and deliberately, “62 points.”

Not bad... I passed.  

Ron let out a sigh of relief. As long as he wasn’t last, he could accept it. But Luke... oh, he’d definitely have a word with Luke later!

“Seamus Finnigan,” Snape glanced up briefly, then back down. “Hmm, 54 points. Mr. Finnigan, perhaps you could channel your talent for causing explosions into Potions instead.”

“Well, well,” Snape dragged out the words, his eyes narrowing as he turned to a terrified Neville Longbottom. In a slow, deliberate tone, he said, “Gryffindor’s shining star, Neville Longbottom... 5 points.”

The entire class, including the Gryffindors, turned to Neville with expressions of awe and respect.

To be fair, Snape was relatively lenient toward first-years. The test consisted of 40 multiple-choice questions worth 80 points, plus 4 short-answer questions worth 5 points each.

“I must admit, while grading, I wondered if you deliberately avoided every correct answer,” Snape said with a sneer. “Forty multiple-choice questions, not a single one correct. Tell me, Mr. Longbottom, were you sent by Merlin to test the patience of professors?”

Neville’s head spun as he sat there, his mind blank. Snape’s words were drowned out by the buzzing in his ears. All he could think about was the Howler his grandmother would send in a few days.

It’s over. I’m doomed.  

As panic consumed him, Neville fainted with a thud, prompting a burst of laughter from the class.

“Silence,” Snape barked, restoring order with a frosty glare. Surveying the room, he announced, “Mr. Mountbatten, 10 points to Slytherin for your outstanding performance.”

“In addition, Mr. Potter and Miss Granger, 5 points each to Gryffindor.” Snape’s face visibly twitched as he said this.

Giving points to Gryffindor was clearly his least favorite task.

“For the two failing trolls, Gryffindor will lose 5 points each due to your abysmal scores.”

As expected, Snape’s point deductions balanced out any gains.

The Gryffindors collectively sighed in relief. At least they hadn’t lost more points.

“Additionally, Slytherin achieved the highest first-year average score of 92 points, earning an extra 10 points.”

“Unfortunately, Gryffindor ranked third and receives no bonus points,” Snape added with a shrug, feigning sympathy.

“Professor, will you deduct points from us?”

This bold question came from Seamus, ever the genius at putting his foot in his mouth.

“If you wish, I can deduct 5 points from Gryffindor just because you asked,” Snape said, his eyes narrowing into slits.

Seamus shook his head vigorously, knowing that if his careless words cost Gryffindor points, his housemates would never forgive him—even Percy wouldn’t be able to save him.

At this point, Gryffindors in Snape’s class had learned to pray for no deductions; not losing points was as good as earning them.

“If there are no objections to your grades, report cards will be sent to your parents tomorrow morning,” Snape drawled. “I wish you all... a pleasant weekend.”

After class, Luke found an irate Ron waiting for him outside the door.

Say what you will, Luke had to admit that the upperclassman was right—Ron did look a bit like an angry red squirrel.

“Luke! You said you didn’t study! How could you lie to me?” Ron demanded, his voice tinged with both frustration and betrayal. “We agreed to enjoy ourselves and not study, but you secretly aced the test! That’s so unfair!”

Cue squirrel puffing up in outrage.  

“Oh, that?” Luke scratched his head. “I really didn’t study. If you don’t believe me, ask Catherine. I’ve been practicing spells with her every evening.”

In truth, it had been two weeks since he last practiced spells with Ron and the others.

Guess I misjudged him, Ron thought bitterly.

There was no way Ron would dare ask Catherine. Hesitantly, he asked, “You’re not lying, are you? Oh, of course you’re not.” He started to rationalize, “We’re friends. You wouldn’t lie to me. Maybe I should start studying seriously. Ugh, Mom’s going to be so mad when she sees my grades...”

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 52: Serpent Spirit *

Ron finally came to terms with his pain and began spending time with Harry and Hermione investigating Professor Snape.

Yes, their suspicion of Snape had not been dispelled; in fact, it had grown even stronger.

Following Professor Snape’s lead, Professor McGonagall made a splash of her own—she announced that there would be a Transfiguration preliminary exam at the end of January.

The reason it wasn’t scheduled in December? To at least let the students enjoy their New Year’s holiday.

Professor McGonagall was, after all, too kind. The next Potions exam, on the other hand, was scheduled for mid-January, right after the students returned from their break.

Snape must have been a giant panda in his past life, taking all the bamboo shoots within a ten-mile radius of Hogwarts.

With the addition of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students, self-study sessions were moved from the respective house common rooms to the Great Hall.

The sessions were supervised by the professors: Professor Sprout on Mondays, Professor McGonagall on Tuesdays, Professor Flitwick on Wednesdays, Professor Snape on Thursdays, and all four professors on Fridays.

Thanks to Luke’ suggestion, Hogwarts adopted a study hall rule inspired by Hengshui High School's “silent, head-down focus.” Professor McGonagall, in particular, fully supported the idea. When Luke proposed it, Professor Sprout’s plump face was filled with reluctance.

She hesitated several times, as if wanting to stop Luke from enforcing such a strict regime, but she ultimately couldn’t bring herself to interrupt McGonagall’s enthusiasm.

Professor McGonagall now found Luke increasingly pleasing to the eye. She even began considering whether she should discuss with Snape the idea of trading the trouble-prone trio of Potter, Weasley, and Granger for the charming Mr. Mountbatten.

Additionally, Nearly Headless Nick volunteered to supervise the students. He floated above the Great Hall, his perspective akin to a security camera.

Peeves wanted to join in but was sternly rejected by Professor McGonagall.

She even enlisted the Bloody Baron as the Hall’s security guard to prevent Peeves from disturbing the young wizards’ studies.

Peeves was furious and spent the next few days pulling pranks on the students, though his enthusiasm for mischief soon waned, and he eventually forgot about it.

While reading in the common room and waiting for Katherine, Luke caught sight of Draco walking toward him with a piece of paper in hand.

“Luke,” Draco greeted, handing him the paper.

Luke took it and found that it was a list.

“What’s this?” he asked curiously, noticing two coiled serpents drawn at the top, both menacing and majestic.

“I’ve recently teamed up with Lestrange and Flint to form a small group within Slytherin—of course, with you as our leader,” Draco said, his expression a mix of apprehension and anticipation.

“Hmm.” Luke gave a noncommittal response, scanning the list. Under Draco’s nervous gaze, he nodded slightly in approval. “The snake drawing is quite good... Does this little group of yours have a name?”

Draco, relieved by Luke’ approval, replied proudly, “Serpent Spirit.”

“The abbreviation of your group sounds... intriguing,” Luke remarked cryptically, finding the name oddly unsettling.

Why does it sound so familiar? As the thought struck him, a realization hit him like a lightning bolt.

No way—translated into Chinese, doesn’t that mean Snake Spirit?

You’ve been watching Detective Di Renjie, haven’t you?

“Huh? Oh,” Draco replied belatedly. “Lestrange suggested we use code names. He picked ‘Demon Spirit’ for himself, shortened to ‘Demon.’”

“Demon?” Luke smacked his lips. Honestly, with Samir’s thick skin, the name “Demon Spirit” suited him well.

Big sister, is this demon spirit gravely injured?

What should my code name be? Considering my luck, it should probably be something like “Hanging Spirit.”

“And what about you?” Luke asked.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Draco admitted, scratching his head. “I don’t know what kind of cool code name would suit my vibe.”

“Viper,” Luke suggested with a grin.

The Netherworld Asian dragon Jaycee Chan, huh? You just need a Venomancer like Kai Ko to make a duo.

“Cool!” Draco said excitedly, adopting the suggestion immediately.

“What are you two whispering about?” Katherine’s voice cut in from nearby. Luke turned to see her approaching, her face tinged with disdain.

“What’s this silly ferret doing? Why aren’t you off chasing your prince charming? Why are you pestering my little deer?”

Draco fled in embarrassment, not daring to look back.

Luke, baffled, thought, Your little deer? When did I become yours? I clearly belong to all the girls... all the beautiful girls.  

“Hmph.” Watching Draco’s retreating figure, Katherine let out a cold snort, then turned to Luke. “What, is this a love letter from the ferret?”

Luke handed her the list.

“So childish—‘Serpent Spirit,’ seriously?” Katherine said, her flawless face etched with disdain.

“Apparently, they consider me their leader...”

“So, you’re playing along with this little kids’ game?” Katherine asked, sitting beside him.

“Every towering tree starts as an unremarkable sapling,” Luke said instinctively, patting Katherine’s soft thigh. “You know, Katie, this could actually be considered an investment.”

Katie was a nickname for Katherine, similar to Ron for Ronald or Charlie for Charles.

Of course, only close friends would use it, and Luke had casually closed the distance between them again.

Katherine shot Luke a cold look, her frosty tone carrying a biting chill. “Do you want to lose your deer hooves?”

“So, would you like to join me and move forward together?”

Luke didn’t remove his “Lushan claws.” Instead, he looked at Katherine with a seriousness that caught her off guard.

Generally speaking, white girls’ skin doesn’t hold up well to close scrutiny, as imperfections are common. But Katherine was different. Even under a close gaze, her skin was flawless and radiant. As Luke stared, a faint blush spread across Katherine’s alabaster cheeks.

Is he... is he confessing to me? Katherine’s mind was a chaotic whirlpool, and her typically cool demeanor began to crack.

Luke was only an eleven-year-old boy, but Katherine herself had just turned fourteen. The age gap between them wasn’t significant. Moreover, Luke’ mature personality often made it hard to see him as a child.

Except for the height difference.

Katherine had always regarded him as a peer and never looked down on him because of his age.

The cold beauty sat on the couch, her face calm while her mind spun into disarray.

How should I respond? she wondered. It has to be dignified but not come off as overly eager.  

She was utterly flustered.

“Katie?” Luke waved a hand in front of her face, trying to pull her out of her spiraling thoughts.

(End of Chapter)  

 Chapter 53: Embracing All, What Comes Next?

"Your words are very misleading," Catherine snapped out of her daze, her face frozen in an icy expression as she retorted coldly.

Luke shrugged nonchalantly. "Interpret it however you like."

"Even if I’m not a zoologist, I know fall isn’t the mating season for deer," Catherine squinted her eyes and scoffed. "Are you... out of season?"

"The road to the peak is always lonely. The higher you climb, the fewer people you’ll find by your side." Luke shifted into a more comfortable position, leaning sideways on the sofa, his elbow propped against the armrest. He looked at Catherine. "I don’t want to reach the top and have no friends around me, so..."

Since it was a chilly autumn day, Catherine wore over-the-knee stockings. When she sat, a small section of her thigh was exposed between her skirt and the stockings, the contrast against the black fabric making her pale skin appear even more radiant.

"Friends?" Catherine's voice rose sharply. The chaotic thoughts in her mind miraculously vanished, replaced by an inexplicable anger.

"Yeah, aren’t we friends now?" Luke had no idea what he said to upset Catherine.

Catherine abruptly stood up and stomped on Luke’ foot before storming out of the lounge in a huff, leaving Luke sitting there, utterly perplexed.

"Women are so troublesome..." he muttered to himself.

He genuinely couldn’t figure out what he had said wrong.

On the way to the Room of Requirement that evening, Catherine didn’t say a single word. Even during magic practice, she remained silent, though her spellcasting speed rivaled that of an MG42 machine gun. Her eyes flashed with cold light, as if she were ready to blast Luke with a frost spell.

She really should have pursued being an Ice Death Knight with those eyes.

---

*You’ve gained 50 points in Shield Charm mastery. Your skill level has increased to Level 10+2.*

When Catherine finally stopped, the Shield Charm had just reached its maximum level. With the bonus from the Spirit Sword, it surpassed Level 10, reaching Level 12.

A notification chime followed.

*Mastery Achieved (10):*

Max out the level of a spell through practice.

Luke speculated that the Avada Kedavra Curse didn’t trigger the achievement because it wasn’t technically "practiced." The system sure was meticulous about wording.

The achievement rewarded him with a wand—not the typical chopstick-length wand but a proper staff, about a meter long and extendable. It resembled a ceremonial cane, with a dark gold lion’s head at the top. Inside, there was an 11-inch wand that could be drawn out, much like Lucius Malfoy’s snake-head staff in the movies.

"This thing must’ve been designed for Gryffindor students," Luke thought, gazing at the lion-headed staff. A strange feeling crept over him, making him wonder if the Sorting Hat had placed him in the wrong house.

*Lion-Headed Staff (Common)*

- *Indestructible*

- *Damage:* 21–45

- *+30% Faster Casting Speed*

- *+3 Transformation Magic Talent*

- *Socketed (4)*

The three extra points in Transformation Magic somewhat redeemed its appearance.

But what rune combinations could be crafted with these four sockets? Staffs probably couldn’t be used for Spirit Runes, right?

"Your wand is... quite unique," Catherine finally spoke, her tone laced with sarcasm as she glanced at Luke’ staff. "I always knew you were trouble. Do you think Slytherin is too small for you? Planning to join Beaver Girl’s embrace?"

Why bring up Hermione? What did she ever do to you?

Far away in Gryffindor Tower, Hermione sneezed seven times in her sleep.

"How did this involve Granger?" Luke discreetly stashed the staff and cleared his throat. "Why would I transfer to Gryffindor? Gryffindor doesn’t have Catherine Worey."

"Hmph... Take a break. Then we’ll continue." Catherine spoke with a cold face, but the faint smile at the corners of her mouth betrayed her mood.

She was genuinely pleased.

Luke took the opportunity to check his Shield Charm.

*Shield Charm: Current Level 10+2 (MAX)*

- *Mana Cost:* Scales with the strength of the attack or spell resisted. Lower-level spells consume less mana and stamina.

- *Casting Time:* 0.01 seconds.

- *Description:* Summons a magical shield to block spells or physical attacks.

- *Resistance Strength:* 1270% (30% from Tal Rasha’s Horadric Crest, 40% from Spirit Sword, 100% per level).

- *Damage Immunity:* 20% elemental damage immunity.

- *Magic Absorption:* Converts 10% of spell power absorbed into shield strength.

When he first met Catherine, his Shield Charm could only block two or three of her spells before shattering. Now, it could withstand a full minute of her spell bombardment.

Unless she used Fiendfyre, Luke believed he could defeat her now.

After all, it was a Level 12 Shield Charm against a "frail" senior. The advantage was his!

As Luke indulged in his thoughts, Catherine cast a Levicorpus, leaving him dangling upside down in mid-air.

Indeed, a frail senior with double-S ratings in power and speed.

"Could someone explain who’s actually overpowered here?" Luke thought.

For now, it seemed Catherine was the real cheat character.

He suddenly remembered her Level 16 Explosive Curse, which had effortlessly shattered his defenses before.

"So, could you let me down now?" Luke asked helplessly. "Do you really enjoy hanging me like this?"

"This is just a small punishment for you," Catherine leaned forward, bringing her face level with Luke. "Mischievous little deer deserve my discipline."

Since the Room of Requirement was slightly warm, Catherine had unbuttoned the top of her shirt. As she leaned forward, Luke found himself with an unintentional view of a rather generous sight.

He swore by Merlin he wasn’t trying to look.

It all made sense now. Catherine must be the type who couldn’t see her own feet when she looked down. If she had a Cerys-style name, "Generous" would suit her perfectly.

"Cathy, you’re showing," Luke kindly pointed at her collar.

Catherine quickly buttoned up her shirt, waved her wand to release Luke, and demanded angrily, "Tell me, what did you see?"

"Something I shouldn’t have," Luke replied honestly, offering a genuine suggestion. "If you want me to take responsibility, I’m open to it."

Admittedly, he was at fault. As an honest man, Luke thought it wise to turn the situation to his advantage, hoping to unsettle Catherine enough to make her forget the incident.

The main thing was that if Catherine agreed, he’d complete his mission. If she changed the subject, then the incident would be over.

It was a win-win.

Sure enough, Catherine blushed, turned her face away, and stammered, "Who wants you to take responsibility, you shameless little deer? I must’ve misjudged you. I actually thought you were an honest kid."

(Chapter Ends)

Chapter 54: Her Hits Must Hurt

"You call me insincere and yet don’t want me to take responsibility. That really puts me in a tough spot," Luke said, spreading his hands with a helpless expression.

Catherine was fuming. She turned her back, refusing to deal with him.

What a headache. If it were someone else, she would have already thrown a ferocious fire spell at them.

Now she finally understood—Luke was her destined nemesis. She couldn’t bring herself to hit him, and scolding him? Normally sharp-tongued, she somehow became utterly inept in front of Luke, as if her IQ had taken a nosedive.

He always managed to back her into a corner with just a few words.

"Are you mad?" Luke chuckled and leaned closer, asking her.

Catherine ignored him—she just didn’t want to talk to him.

Answering him would mean she was a fool, she thought to herself. So, she kept silent, staring up at the ceiling instead.

Suddenly, she felt herself tilt backward, falling into a lean but firm embrace. Thin arms wrapped around her slender waist.

Luke held Catherine close, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Hmm... he was standing on a stool conjured by a temporary transfiguration spell.

After all, without the stool, anyone seeing them from behind would assume this child was snuggling up to his mom.

"What are you doing...?" Catherine sensed something was off. Overcome with awkwardness, she asked, "Wait, how did you... grow taller?"

"I’m standing on a stool," Luke sheepishly whispered near her ear.

Her ears were delicate and translucent, incredibly pleasing to the eye.

Catherine pried his arms from around her waist and turned to face him. Seeing his embarrassed expression, she couldn’t help but burst out laughing. "Haha!"

She covered her mouth, her eyes curving into crescent moons with laughter.

"Go ahead, laugh it up..." This time it was Luke who felt defeated. Still standing on the stool, he grumbled, "Mock me all you want. Sure, I’m young now, but just wait a couple of years. I’ll make sure you’re not laughing then..."

"Silly little deer," Catherine said as she watched him. No matter how she looked, Luke seemed utterly adorable. Seeing his mix of frustration and indignation made her wonder.

Could it be... this little deer hated being treated like a child?

To test her theory, Catherine hesitated but ultimately suppressed her own shyness. She reached out and hugged Luke.

This was a gamble—a bold one.

Luke felt a surge of joy. Could it be that his senior had finally fallen for him?

But her next actions and words quickly made him realize he had been too naïve.

Catherine lifted him down from the stool, setting him on the ground. Looking at him from above with a hint of pity, she said, "For now, you’re still more suited to serving Snow White than waking her with a kiss."

Luke was crushed once again.

So you’re saying I’m a dwarf, huh?

"Good little deer," Catherine teased as she ruffled Luke’s hair. Her guess had been right... and she had to admit, the silky, soft feeling of his hair was oddly addictive.

Now it was Luke’s turn to be on the losing side.

Never had he wanted to grow up more than he did at this moment.

One day, he vowed, she would realize he was a true man.

Meanwhile, Catherine had discovered the ultimate way to handle Luke—treat him like a kid.

"Let’s go," she said, smiling softly as she took his hand and led him outside. "It’s about time we returned to the lounge."

The two walked together, looking for all the world like an older sister taking her little brother out for a stroll.

Luke was fuming inside. Catherine had found the perfect cheat code to keep him in check.

The next morning at breakfast, Luke sat silently, full of frustration, chewing with a blank expression on his face.

Even Tom’s meticulously crafted Panda-Style Eight Treasures Noodle Soup couldn’t ease his emo mood.

He set a small goal for himself: to improve his skills as quickly as possible and to make sure he could easily defeat the senior before his second year.

"I'll smack her butt until it's in four pieces!" Luke thought viciously, slurping down the last bite of noodles.

"Still angry?" Catherine's teasing voice came from beside him. Luke didn't even turn his head; he didn't want to talk to her.

The Weasley twins, who had been sitting next to Luke, awkwardly stood up to leave, but Luke stopped them.

"This is your personal business, Luke. It's not appropriate for us to get involved," George said awkwardly, glancing at Catherine.

"No, I mean I want to leave with you two." Luke subtly slid a sticky charm into his hand, patted Catherine's back, and said, "George, Fred, and I have some business to attend to. We'll leave first. If there's anything, we’ll talk later in the common room."

Catherine pursed her lips and smiled, replying, "Alright."

Luke looked at the "fool" charm stuck to her back, clapped his hands in satisfaction, and slipped away with the red-haired twins.

Catherine chuckled softly and curled her finger. The sticky charm flew back into her hand.

"I’ll let you save face for now, but just wait until we’re back…”

Catherine stared at the "fool" sticker in her hand, determined to teach him a lesson later.

---

"I'm curious. With your fearless personalities, why do you act like mice around Catherine?" Luke asked the twins as they walked.

"You’ve probably never been hung upside down by her for over an hour," Fred said with a shiver. "Oh, the horror. I never want to relive the feeling of all that blood rushing to my head."

"That’s not even the worst part," George added. "There was this one guy who confessed to her and ended up turned into a dog."

"That guy transferred to Beauxbatons afterward," Fred chimed in.

"Really?" Luke laughed in disbelief.

"Yeah, he apparently said something like…”

George began, and Fred quickly finished, "‘Miss Vorey, I want to be your dog.’"

"Too bad Catherine doesn’t like dogs, huh?"

"Exactly." The Weasley twins flanked Luke, each throwing an arm over his shoulder. "Honestly, we’re kind of envious of you. You’ve got the guts to stand up to someone like Queen Vorey."

"Ha, it’s not a big deal," Luke laughed, a little smug.

He seemed to forget that he was still the one at a disadvantage and far from achieving his goal.

---

"Honestly, I think the girls in Slytherin are all pretty great," Luke said.

"Better than the ones in Gryffindor," the twins chimed in.

"Why’s that?" Luke asked, puzzled.

"Look at the Slytherin girls. They’ve got all kinds of flair, plus they show some leg," Fred said, pointing at a passing Slytherin senior.

"Now look at Gryffindor. One big robe, covers everything," George added, gesturing toward a black-haired senior sitting at the Gryffindor table.

The black-haired senior seemed to overhear them. She turned around, fuming, her fists cracking as she flexed her knuckles.

The three of them took off in a hurry.

"Are you crazy, George?" Fred whispered. "That’s Hestia. Oh my God, you’re brave."

"From what I can tell, that Hestia lady…" Luke glanced back at the twins and thought for a moment. "She probably hits pretty hard."

"Absolutely. Gryffindor girls hit like trucks. Not to brag, but Hestia, our cousin, has these apocalyptic iron fists—"

Before George could finish, he was interrupted by a heavy smack on the shoulder.

It was Hestia, the black-haired senior from before, standing behind them with a not-so-friendly smile.

"Who’s my little brother talking about, hmm?" Hestia asked.

"George, Fred, are you badmouthing me to the freshmen again?" she said, cracking her knuckles menacingly.

---

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 55: Christmas (Part 1) *

George and Fred ended up with bruised and swollen faces, forcing them to detour to the hospital wing to seek treatment from Madam Pomfrey.

"Uppercut! You could’ve dodged that, you destructive maniac!"

**Terrifying, absolutely terrifying.**

Luke swallowed hard. As expected of a woman from the Prewett family—on one side, there’s Aunt Molly who can tear apart lunatics, and on the other, Hestia who can knock out the Weasley twins with a single punch. That apocalyptic iron fist could probably make even a troll submit.

Hestia gave Luke a deep look, but since they weren’t in the same house and he was too young, she didn’t lay a hand on him.

The main reason, though, was that Luke was simply too adorable. Hestia, fierce as she was, couldn’t bring herself to crush such a delicate flower.

“Poor twins…” Luke silently mourned for the red-haired brothers in his heart.

“They’re decent kids. Don’t let those two redheads lead you astray.”

Hestia left behind this one sentence, then turned and walked away with style and flair, leaving no trace behind.

It seemed true that when Gryffindor girls hit, they hit hard. Hermione was also quite skilled at shutting Malfoy up with a straight punch.

Even Angelina, who was great at Quidditch, wasn’t one to be trifled with.

Come to think of it, Hestia was actually a gentle and elegant young lady—provided she wasn’t hitting anyone.

The busy days passed one by one, and soon it was the season of white snow and festive cheer.

Unfortunately, Luke received a letter delivered by Amaryllis, sent by his grandfather, instructing him to stay at school for Christmas.

The old man had gone on vacation again. This time, he seemed to be visiting a country known for its cigars and rum—a business trip turned leisurely getaway.

Diana wasn’t around either. According to her letter, she’d gone to Africa for some kind of charity campaign, planning to walk through minefields to promote anti-landmine efforts.

She was certainly bold.

Worried, Luke wrote her a long, heartfelt letter and asked Amaryllis to deliver it as quickly as possible.

When Amaryllis returned, she brought back a letter from his uncle and aunt. It said something along the lines of, “The daffodils back home are blooming. We miss you very much and hope you can visit the palace soon.”

However, the Hogwarts Express had already departed, so Luke could only regretfully promise to visit during the summer holidays.

In the days leading up to Christmas, the entire school was brimming with holiday spirit. After all, more than half of the students had stayed at Hogwarts instead of going home, and Dumbledore made sure to prioritize their well-being.

Luke sat at the table, absentmindedly nibbling on gingerbread, his mind in a whirl as he worried about Diana.

She’s already thirty years old, yet she’s wandering around a minefield like it’s nothing. Honestly, what is she thinking?  

“Luke! Luke!” Ron’s voice called out from behind him.

Turning around, Luke saw the two goofballs, Harry and Ron. One was wearing a blue sweater with an “H” knitted on it, while the other wore a maroon sweater with an “R.”

“I thought you went home?” Luke asked Ron.

“Plans changed. Mom and Dad decided to visit Charlie in Romania at the last minute,” Ron said, shrugging as he plopped down next to Luke. “My brother Charlie works with dragons in Romania. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s awesome,” Luke nodded.

"By the way, my mom told me to give this to you." Ron said awkwardly as he pulled out a package.

Luke took it, quickly unwrapping it in a few swift motions. Inside was a navy-blue sweater.

This reflected the cultural differences here and abroad. In another place, opening a gift in front of the giver might be considered impolite, but in Britain, unwrapping a gift on the spot is often the best way to show appreciation and bring joy to the giver.

"When in Rome," Luke thought.

He unfolded the sweater and noticed the letter "L" stitched on the front.

"Thank you, thank you, Aunt Molly. I really like it." Luke genuinely liked the sweater. In his previous life, he'd envied Harry when he saw him receive a sweater in the movies.

"Excuse me for a moment." Luke stepped away under the puzzled gazes of Ron and Harry. He quickly returned, now wearing the sweater.

"Luke..." Ron's eyes turned red with emotion.

He hadn't expected someone like Luke, who came from such a privileged background, to not only accept his mom's gift but to happily put it on immediately.

"It's really warm. Haha, do I look handsome?" Luke spun around playfully.

"You look like a fool," came a voice from behind him.

It was his senior. Today, she was dressed in a thick robe, a green-and-silver Slytherin scarf wrapped around her neck. Tall and elegant, she stood there with a soft expression that lacked her usual icy demeanor. She looked more like the approachable older sister next door.

Of course, this was Luke's filtered perspective. From Harry and Ron's point of view, Katherine's smile was as terrifying as the smile of a fallen angel from the depths of hell.

"Kathy?" Luke asked curiously, "Why didn't you go home?"

"To keep you company," Katherine replied, ruffling Luke's hair with a cheerful smile, much to Harry and Ron's horror. "How could I bear to let my adorable little brother spend Christmas alone here?"

Luke's defenses crumbled instantly.

Harry and Ron straightened up, leaning back slightly as they looked at Luke with newfound reverence, as though he were a deity.

A surge of anger rose in Luke's chest. He mustered his courage and dove forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Katherine's slender waist. "Sister..."

His voice was filled with admiration and gratitude.

He was putting on an incredible act.

Diana: So love really can fade, huh?

She truly didn’t understand why Luke, usually so gentlemanly, always acted so shamelessly around her.

If this continued, the "big sister" persona Katherine had just established was going to crumble.

Luke, too, found himself in a bit of a bind.

At this critical moment, it was Ron who came to his rescue.

"By the way, Luke, Harry said he saw a strange mirror."

"But I don’t think that mirror is right. Harry seems so obsessed with it. Could you come with me to check it out and maybe talk some sense into him?"

Ron’s face was full of worry. He was genuinely afraid that his best friend might lose himself to that eerie mirror.

"Huh? Oh." Luke pulled his head out of Katherine's soft embrace and belatedly asked, "What mirror?"

He hadn’t fully caught what Ron was saying, only the word "mirror."

"Yeah, Harry came across this mirror in a corridor. He said he could see his parents in it, but when I looked into it, I saw myself as the student council president and the Quidditch champion..."

"Isn’t that ridiculous?" Ron clicked his tongue. "I think that mirror must be some sort of illusion. We can’t let Harry get obsessed with it."

Luke understood. Ron must be talking about the Mirror of Erised, the one Dumbledore had used to test Harry in the original story.

Seriously, does Dumbledore have too much free time or what?

At least, that’s what Luke thought.

He said to Ron and a very reluctant Harry, "Let’s go. We’ll check it out together."

(End of Chapter)